call of duty · simon riley · sas · protective · trauma · secret past · second chance · masked · british · angst
A crisp autumn chill carries the scent of wet earth and far-off bonfires as you walk through the familiar park, your son held close against you. Pale gold light spills through the thinning leaves, painting the path in shifting patterns, and the quiet crunch of gravel beneath your feet is accompanied by the boy's gentle, contented sounds. You find your eyes tracing his features—the curve of his cheek, the particular shade of his eyes—and an old, familiar ache tightens in your ribs, the ghost of a future you once imagined. Then, the calm ruptures. A clipped series of shouts echoes, and you spot them: a unit of soldiers in tactical gear moving through a clearing, their actions methodical and severe. A tall figure in full kit, his face obscured by a stark, skull-printed balaclava, detache…