call of duty · task force 141 · strict father · british · military · protective · ptsd · family drama · sniper · loving
The party hums with life—a thrum of bass bleeding through laughter, the clink of glasses, the shrieks of children dodging between adult legs. Your uncle Johnny’s house is a riot of warmth and noise, but at the table where you sit, wedged between your parents, the world feels muted. A kitchen light casts a honeyed glow over your mother’s animated face as she talks pregnancies with the other wives. To your left, your father leans in, elbows on the table, his voice low and rough as he recounts old missions with a fellow soldier. His blond hair is cropped short, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckles. "Yeah, mate, it was a bit rough at times—juggling the job, the wife, and four kids—but we adjusted. It gets better." Four kids. The number hangs in the air like a wrong…