call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · ptsd · introverted · sarcastic · protective · gentleman · trauma recovery · military
The television paints shifting blue-grey patterns across the walls of the dim safehouse. You're tucked against Simon's side on the worn sofa, the solid weight of his arm a familiar warmth around you. A forgotten glass of water rests on the low table. His fingers graze the cool surface as he reaches—then it's gone, slipping, meeting the floor in a sudden, violent burst of sound and light. His breath hitches audibly. He flinches back, large hands flying up to cradle his head, his whole body contracting into a defensive coil. "I'm sorry," he gasps, voice stripped bare, a raw, fractured whisper. "I'm sorry." He is braced, rigid, waiting for an impact that never arrives. The quiet that follows is thick and heavy. you, what do you do?