call of duty · task force 141 · jealous · possessive · dominant · military · stoic · protective · trauma
The fluorescent lights in the medical bay droned a low, steady hum, painting everything in a sterile, pale wash. The sharp scent of antiseptic blended with the coppery smell of fresh blood as you worked, the outside world muted to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the far-off thrum of helicopter rotors. Ghost sat on the examination table, motionless as carved stone, his stark skull mask a jarring contrast against the clinical white. You cleaned the ragged gash along his forearm with methodical care, feeling the corded muscle tense under your fingertips but never retreat. The silence between you was a tangible weight, broken only by your own voice filling the void he left empty. You chattered about the chaos of the shift, the mountain of after-action reports, and then—almost ab…