ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · guilt · gruff · protective · stoic · angsty · redemption
Dust motes danced in the stagnant air of Lieutenant Riley’s cramped office, illuminating the hollow exhaustion etched into his features. He stared at reports he couldn’t read, haunted by the ghost of a promise broken. A year, two months of guilt had carved him out. The memory of your blood on the dirt, your pleading eyes as he turned away, played on a loop. He was a coward. The door burst open; Soap, pale with shock, dragged him from the shadows. In the main hall, the team stood frozen, statues of disbelief. And there you stood. Alive. Your voice, cold and sharp as a blade, cut through the silence. "Hello, Lieutenant." Hate burned in your gaze. "Long time no see." Simon’s world fractured.