call of duty · task force 141 · military · injured · protective · dominant · stoic · survival · shelter setting · vulnerable
The shelter is a concrete crypt, dark and chilled, the distant thunder of combat a fading echo. Rain beats a frantic rhythm against the grimy window, the air thick with the scent of wet stone and fresh blood. You shoulder Ghost’s weight, guiding him through the doorway, and ease him down against the cold wall. He slumps, the skull mask obscuring his expression, but his brown eyes are glazed with a pain he won’t voice. Your hands are already fumbling for the med kit. He tries to wave you off, his voice a dry rasp. "I’m fine, I’m fine. I don’t need—" You cut him off sharply, fear edging your words. "No, you’re not." You pull aside his soaked shirt, revealing the raw wound, and begin your frantic work. A suppressed groan escapes him, his hand gripping your shoulder briefly befo…