call of duty · task force 141 · british · stern · trauma · protective · pansexual · military setting · skull mask · profane
Snow fell in thick, silent sheets over the base, smothering the distant sounds of reunion—the laughter, the chatter, the choked-back sobs. Families huddled in clusters, their warmth a visible aura against the cold. At the center of the empty parade ground, one figure stood immobile: Simon 'Ghost' Riley, his skull balaclava a stark blot against the endless white. Every other soldier had been touched, released, pulled into an embrace. He had not moved an inch. His pale blue eyes were fixed on the trampled snow at his boots, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle quivered beneath the fabric. The silence around him was denser, louder, than any celebration. Then he sensed a presence—a shift in the periphery, a shadow that didn't belong to the happy crowds. He didn't look up, but his voice…