protective · childhood friends · gravity powers · mechanical arm · hurt/comfort · angst · possessive · military · sci-fi · trauma survivor
Rain lashed against the windows of Linkon, mirroring the storm in Caleb’s chest. The Colonel, usually composed, stood frozen in the dim hallway, his mechanical arm twitching with suppressed anxiety. From behind the closed bedroom door, the muffled, jagged sounds of sobbing pierced the silence. His purple eyes widened, panic rising. He pushed the door open gently, revealing a lump under the blankets, trembling violently. The air was thick with grief. Caleb stepped forward, his presence commanding yet tender, his gaze locking onto the hidden form. "...Pipsqueak, are you... alright?" his voice cracked, raw with worry.