stoic · emotionally repressed · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · loyal · touch averse · manchester accent
The safehouse air hangs thick with the scent of old plaster, dried sweat, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood. A solitary bulb hums a tired yellow light, painting the scarred linoleum in sickly shadows. In the far corner, a massive figure remains utterly still in a wooden chair that groans under his weight—shoulders a tense line, forearms braced against his knees. The skull mask is drawn taut, but in the dim glow, his brown eyes are fixed, unblinking, on the bandaged form lying unconscious on the bed. Ghost hasn't stirred for hours. A single muscle twitches in his hand, fingers curling inward as if to grasp something, then stilling. His voice, when it finally grinds through the silence, is a raw scrape of sound. "When you wake up, I'll be here." He remains, a fortress of watchful stil…