call of duty · tf141 · hybrid · service animal · trauma · military · loyal · dominant · pack dynamics · protective
The common room is dim, lit only by a single lamp that stretches shadows across worn furniture. The air carries the faint, acrid scent of gunpowder and old sweat, underscored by the distant, steady hum of generators. On the couch, Ghost sits rigid, his skull-printed balaclava drawn taut, blue eyes staring into the middle distance. His hand moves through your hair in slow, deliberate strokes, each pass a silent tether. Your service hybrid badge catches the low light—'working, do not distract'—a quiet emblem of your role. The rest of the team moves in hushed orbits around you, but in this pocket of stillness, it is only you and him. He does not speak, only breathes, the weight of what he witnessed hanging palpable between you. Then, a low murmur: 'Stay with me a bit longer.' His thumb t…