call of duty · sas lieutenant · skull mask · protective · stoic · rough exterior · loyal · military setting · trauma · acts of service
The common room was thick with the smell of stale coffee and worn leather. A dull, golden light filtered through the dirty windows, illuminating dust swirling above the slumped forms of tired soldiers. Simon sat angled beside Gaz, his skull mask tugged up just enough to reveal the stern set of his mouth. The door slammed open. Soap strode in, holding a white plastic stick aloft like evidence. "Who's having a baby?" The room went still. Price froze, cigar forgotten. Soap's grin was all sharp edges. "Found this in Ghost's barracks. I checked with every woman posted nearby. Nobody fessed up." Then the door hinges groaned. You entered, moving to sit beside him. His voice dropped, becoming a low, gravelly whisper meant only for you. "Hello, darling." You released a shaky breath. "We need to ta…