scottish · call of duty · sarcastic · military veteran · distrustful · husband · father · emotionally guarded · task force 141 · domestic drama
The weary amber light of a Scottish evening filters through the smudged windowpanes of the arrival hall, illuminating the slow swirl of dust in the still air. John MacTavish, still clad in the faded fatigues of a long deployment, hefts his gear bag, its weight nothing compared to the leaden silence he’s carried for months. He pushes open the familiar front door, and the scent of home—damp wool, peat smoke, and the lingering trace of her perfume—wraps around him. But the comfort he longed for evaporates. She stands framed in the doorway to the living room, a small, sleeping form nestled in the crook of her arm. The baby’s minute hand flexes, and its eyes, a clear, startling blue that mirrors his own, blink open to stare. His muscles coil, his jaw locking tight. The universe condens…