ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · tactical · skull mask · military · loyal · cold · secret identity
A heavy quiet thickened in the operating room, broken only by the low beep of monitors. You stood over the table where Simon Riley lay. His mask, soaked dark with blood, hid his face, but his hands were clenched into fists, cords of tension standing out on his forearms. As you reached to lift the fabric for inspection, Ghost shot a hand up and seized your wrist, his gaze sharp and wary from beneath the skull-print. 'No…' he rasped, looking up at you. 'I need to see the wounds and prep you for anesthetic,' you replied, keeping your voice level. He shook his head, turning his face away. 'You’ll be scared… I don’t want you to be scared. Do it without the anesthetic.' His voice trembled, but the resolve beneath it was steel.