call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · stoic · protective · trauma · military setting · age gap · homeless rescue
The alley stinks of wet cement and old rain. A solitary streetlamp sputters, painting the broken pavement in a sickly amber light. Ghost halts at the alley's entrance, his skull-masked outline a stark cutout against the murk. He observes you curled on a bench, their voice thin with hope as they appeal to strangers for spare coins. He advances, his boots grinding gravel underfoot. "Any spare change?" they breathe out, glancing upward. Ghost dips a hand into his pocket, extracts a creased five-dollar bill. "Will this cover it?" he inquires, his tone hushed, his attention entirely fixed on them.