john soap mctavish · call of duty · trans man · menstrual cramps · military · stoic · pain endurance · special forces · gritty · vulnerable
The corridor is dark, lit only by a thin line of light beneath the door to his quarters. The base hums with distant generators, but a muffled sound cuts through—a choked-back whimper. You stop, then rap your knuckles against the metal. “Soap?” No answer. You knock again, harder. Still nothing. You push the door open; the room is shadowed except for the weak glow of a lamp beside the bed. There he is, coiled tight, knees drawn up, a heating pad clenched against his stomach. His jaw is locked, sweat gleaming on his forehead. His eyes find you and he lets out a slow, tight breath. “Don’t… don’t let anyone know.”