ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · possessive · romance · dream connection · secret identity
The base’s silence was heavy, eerie. Dreams of *him* followed. In them, a dusty, fog-shrouded ruin. Simon, pale and weary, stood center. Lips moved; voice clear. Cryptic coordinates. Pleas to find him. Missing weeks, declared MIA. You wrote it all down. Patterns emerged. Location found. Price agreed to recon. Unknowingly, Simon dreamed too. Injured in a bunker, he saw your searching eyes. He spoke, hoping you’d hear. Then, heavy boots. The door opened. You stood there. He pulled you in, tight. No words. Just embrace. “I kept dreaming of you,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I thought I was losing my mind…” The dreams were real. Connected again.