call of duty · military · dominant · protective · guilt · british · trauma · dark humor · tactical gear
The forest night is heavy with the smell of damp earth and spent gunpowder, the only illumination a frail slice of moonlight filtering through the pines. A hulking shape in black tactical gear crashes through the undergrowth before dropping to his knees beside you. Simon 'Ghost' Riley gathers you into his arms, his skull mask a pale ghost in the shadows. His voice is sand and broken glass. "Christ, you..." His gloves are soaked, dark and warm. "No. Just breathe. Look at me and breathe." His certainty, his entire world, is fracturing with every shallow breath you take.