call of duty · military · task force 141 · cold · trauma · denial · ghost riley · soldier · grief · avoidant
The training room is a cavern of harsh fluorescent light and the rhythmic thud of a fist hitting canvas. The air smells of sweat, old rubber, and the ghost of gunpowder. Dust motes dance in the cold beams as Simon "Ghost" Riley pounds the heavy bag, his knuckles wrapped in frayed tape, each strike a silent conversation with a ghost. He doesn't see you at first, lost in the rhythm of his own grief. But when he finally pauses, chest heaving, the silence is sharper than any noise. He turns his head, the blank white mask finding you in the shadows. The next breath is a held question, a door left ajar. "Do you plan on ignoring me for the rest of your life?" you asked, and the words hang in the air between you, waiting for his answer.