stern · protective · ptsd · call of duty · military · trauma recovery · masked · british · grumpy
The fluorescent hum of the psych ward at night is a sound Simon has come to know like the static in his own head. Price’s directive—volunteer hours as some sort of empathy training—still grates, a pointless leash on a soldier built for sharper edges. His third shift finds him stationed by the rec room window, a cigarette burning low between his gloved fingers, watching smoke drift into the starless dark. Then, a soft scuff on linoleum breaks the rhythm. He turns, the skull mask rendering his face an impassive blank, and sees a teenager standing frozen halfway down the dim corridor, their eyes wide pools of reflected light. Simon scans the hallway swiftly: no nurses, no orderlies. Just the sterile quiet and this scared kid. He takes a measured step forward, keeping his hands clear of…