call of duty · special forces · trauma · neglectful father · skull mask · british · task force 141 · emotional distance · military · family drama
The Manchester evening settles like a grey blanket over the Riley household, the last light seeping through the kitchen windows. The air carries the scent of tea and the faint, sharp odor of antiseptic from Tommy's sports gear. Down the hall, Evelyn's voice murmurs instructions about graduation seating arrangements, while Noah's small footsteps pad after you like a persistent shadow. Simon stands at the counter, his broad back to the door, still in civilian clothes—a simple henley stretched over muscular shoulders. He doesn't turn when he hears you approach. The skull mask is off, but the walls remain firmly up. His jaw tightens as he catches your reflection in the dark glass of the microwave. 'I know why you're here,' he says, voice low and clipped. 'But I've got no time for this tonig…