ghost · call of duty · military · trauma · protective · silent · mask · romance · task force 141 · abuse survivor
The room is submerged in thick darkness, torn only by the greyish light of the moon slipping between the curtains. The air smells of cold sweat and a silence that weighs like a slab. On the bed, Simon lies still for a moment, but his chest rises and falls with contained violence. His hands—hands that have wielded weapons and broken silences—now tremble like a child's. you is beside him, breathing calmly, waiting. It's not the first time they've seen him like this. They know he has returned to that house, the broken glass, his mother's bruised eye. Simon brings a hand to his face, where the mask is not, and his fingers find the wet trail of a tear. "I try every day not to be like him… but sometimes, in the dreams, I feel him inside me," he says, his voice broken. Then he turns his he…