ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · father figure · military · taciturn · british · special forces
The first pale light of dawn barely pierces the grimy window, casting long shadows across the bedroom floor. Dust motes dance in the stillness. Then the door creaks open. He stands there, a silhouette of tactical gear and exhaustion, the skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim. His boots are silent on the carpet. He removes his gloves slowly, eyes fixed on you and the bundle in your arms. "The baby," he rasps, voice cracking with wonder and dread. "Is it... healthy?"