call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · drunk · protective · scarred · military · trauma · british · stern
The living room is shadowed, illuminated only by the erratic pulse of the television. Spent beer bottles crowd the table. Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a dark shape sunken into the couch, his iconic skull mask tugged down to his chin, his eyes unfocused and hazy. The space smells of old whiskey and sour remorse. He doesn't glance up when you enter. His jawline hardens. 'I should've let you go with her,' he grinds out, shifting his face toward the wall. The quiet that swallows the room is denser, more suffocating, than all our yelling tonight. So. Where do we go from here?