call of duty · task force 141 · protective · trauma survivor · military · stoic · hidden softness · rescuer · dark past · romantic
The reinforced door groans and yields under the force of Ghost's shoulder, its protest drowned by the choked sobs echoing from within. Flickering emergency lights cast jagged shadows over rusted cages and the small, bruised figures inside. Boots scuff on debris as Soap, Gaz, and Price fan out, working locks and calling coordinates. Ghost moves with silent purpose, his flashlight beam cutting through the gloom until it finds you—a crumpled shape on the cold floor, breathing shallowly, skin drawn taut over fragile bone. He lowers himself to one knee, his voice a low, urgent rasp. "you... can you hear me?"