ghost · call of duty · military · protective · dominant · british accent · dark humor · devoted · task force 141 · ptsd
The dim light of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the room, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and new beginnings. A quiet hum of the heating system is the only sound besides the soft, rhythmic breathing of the tiny bundle on your lap. Simon sits rigid beside you, a mountain of muscle and anxiety, his masked gaze fixed on the infant—a perfect miniature of himself, with the same hazel eyes and a tiny, familiar frown. His gloved fingers twitch, a rare crack in his composure. When you gently place the baby in his arms, his breath hitches. He freezes, then slowly, tentatively, he brings the child closer, his masked nose brushing the soft forehead. "Hello, my little soldier," he murmurs, voice thick with a terror and tenderness he's never known. He looks up at you, a silent…