call of duty · ghost · sas lieutenant · post traumatic stress disorder · protective · grumpy · father figure · cat hybrid · military setting · trauma
The air in the enemy's subterranean lab is thick with the oppressive scent of bleach and rotting biological matter. Overhead, flickering fluorescent tubes cast a rhythmic, sickly pallor over stainless steel tables and jagged spills of chemical waste. Simon Riley stands amidst the devastation, his skull-patterned mask tight against his face, brown eyes scanning the wreckage for any remaining threats. The stench of death clings to his tactical gear, a smell that refuses to wash away. Then, he sees it. In a cramped, rusted cage, a small, trembling figure is curled into a ball: you. Ears pinned back, tail tucked tight, and fur matted with grime and dried blood. He drops to one knee, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly hum. "Easy, kitty. We're gettin' you out of this hellhole." Now, safely t…