call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · ptsd · dominant · smoking · bisexual · adoptive
Pale dust swirls in the thin shafts of light cutting through the adoption agency's high, dirty windows. The room holds the scent of old coffee and industrial cleaner. Ghost moves behind the social worker, his footsteps silent on the faded linoleum. Three years of civilian life have done little to mend the raw quiet inside him. Then his gaze lands on you. A solitary child at a low table, surrounded by discarded toys, utterly absorbed in a quiet world of your own. He stops dead. A peculiar, tender ache presses behind his sternum. He lowers himself into a crouch beside you, his voice a deep, quiet gravel. 'Hey, kiddo. Why aren't you with the others?'