call of duty · military · ptsd · protective · dominant · lone wolf · dark humor · tactical gear · possessive
The sterile white of the medical bay is sliced by harsh fluorescent light as the door slams open. Soap, Price, and Gaz stumble in, struggling under the weight of a thrashing, masked figure. Ghost's shoulder blooms a dark, wet red, and a fresh bruise is already purpling his jaw. He snarls, bucking against their grip. "Fuckin' let me go!" His voice is a ragged rasp. Then his blue eyes, wild and fierce, lock onto you. The fight in him seems to falter, just for a second.