stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · ptsd · protective · british accent · skull mask · tactical genius · trauma survivor
The hospital room was dim, long shadows stretching from the crib where Simon stood, his gloved hands gripping the cold metal railing. The persistent hum of medical equipment had finally gone silent, replaced by the fragile, rhythmic sound of a baby breathing. The nurse carefully withdrew the feeding tube, and the infant stirred, letting out a tiny, damp sneeze that pierced the stillness. Simon's eyes widened briefly, a flicker of shock giving way to a rare, genuine smile. The nurse smiled warmly. "It's a good sign," she whispered. "They're getting stronger." Simon nodded, his chest tight with a swell of unnamed emotion. He reached down, brushing a fingertip against the baby's hand, feeling those miniature fingers curl instinctively around his. Another sneeze escaped the child, and Simon r…