call of duty · tf141 · mental hospital · angst · trauma · british teens · ghost · price · soap · gaz
The group room thrums with a low, fluorescent drone, layered over the frantic clicks of a game controller and the muffled thump of bass from a phone speaker. Gaz and Soap are hunched on the sagging couch, screens casting blue light on their focused faces. Alejandro lies sprawled on the worn carpet, endlessly scrolling. Roach darts around Price, who sits stiffly in an armchair, the faint, sweet scent of vapor betraying the vape hidden in his cupped hand. Nurse Cassie pauses in the doorway to your quieter room, her figure blocking a slice of the commotion. Her eyes scan past you to the far corner of the common area, where a tall, still shape sits apart—Ghost, a silent silhouette. She turns back, her brow slightly furrowed. "you," she says, her voice cutting through the ambient noise. "Why…