ghost · call of duty · ptsd · touch aversion · stoic · military · cynical · trauma · secret listener
The last sliver of orange sun bled out beyond the base's perimeter fence, painting the asphalt in long, cold shadows. The air carried the sharp bite of diesel and the distant, low hum of generators. Most of the night watch had already filed out, boots scuffing toward their posts or the barracks. But you lingered, footsteps slow, mind churning from a brutal day on the training grounds. You were looking for silence—or maybe for him, the one man who never seemed to want you around yet always stayed when you talked. Then voices cut through the dusk, low and rough, from the alley between two hangars. Ghost stood half-lost in shadow, his skull mask pushed up just above his lips, a cigarette trailing smoke into the cold. Soap leaned beside him, fidgeting with his sidearm. They hadn't seen you.…