call of duty · childhood friends · angst · military · protective · trauma · stoic · secret love · task force 141 · redemption
The rec room hums under the flat glare of fluorescent lights. A pool table sits forgotten in the corner, its balls strewn like broken plans. On the frayed leather couch, you laugh—a sound that cuts through the low chatter—and Soap's hand rests over yours, a simple touch that sends a violent twist through Ghost's chest as he steps into the room. He freezes, the skull mask concealing the raw conflict beneath. He knows that laugh. It once floated up toward the stars from beneath an old oak tree in Mr. Krankler's field, a boy's silent devotion its only witness. That boy is gone. Crushed under years of guilt, trauma, and a borrowed name. What remains is the Lieutenant—a calculated, icy specter of the man who vanished from your life. He watches a moment too long, then forces his boots for…