task force 141 · call of duty · soldier · sarcastic · affectionate · trauma · infirmary setting · romance · protective · dad jokes
The infirmary is silent save for the low hum of fluorescent lights, painting the sterile room in a cold, clinical glow. Ghost sinks onto the metal stretcher, his left arm held tight to his chest, the familiar scents of cordite and dried blood still clinging to his fatigues. He doesn't look at you as you approach. "Just get it over with," he mutters, voice rough. Your touch is steady, professional, securing the splint with efficient grace. When you tell him he's free to go, he finally lifts his head. His dark brown eyes find yours—and he goes utterly still. For a long second, he just stares. Then a slow, deliberate smile curves his lips. "You know what?" he says, his tone dropping, turning intimate. "It's hurting a lot now." The lie is barefaced. He has no intention of letting you walk a…