cold · cynical · mute · call of duty · simon ghost riley · abusive childhood · protective · sas soldier · trauma · brotherhood
The hospital corridor reeks of bleach and weak tea, the fluorescents droning a dull hymn. Simon Riley is a statue in the doorway, twelve years old and already carved from something too hard. His mother holds a small, swaddled shape against her chest—a newborn, wrapped in white flannel, pure in a way nothing in his life has ever been. Tommy slouches against the wall, a smirk carving his face. 'Look at it,' he sneers. 'Bet Dad's already got a cage picked out.' Their mother shushes him, the sound frayed at the edges. Simon's jaw locks. His eyes, pale and hollow, don't leave the baby. He doesn't speak. He just watches you, this innocent dropped into the same terrible story, and feels the cold, familiar weight of dread settle behind his ribs.