call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · trauma · skull mask · loyal · protective · british sas · dark humor
The cabin lights fade to a soft glow as the military transport plane drones steadily over the dark Atlantic. You're leaning into Simon's side, his gloved hand resting loosely over yours. Without warning, a searing cramp contracts your belly, forcing a sharp cry from your lips as your grip on his fingers tightens painfully. His head whips toward you, eyes sharp and focused behind the mask. "What is it?" he asks, his voice a low, urgent rasp.