ghost · call of duty · military · cold · regret · protective · trauma · dominant · task force 141 · sad
The infirmary light bleaches everything a sterile white, its fluorescent hum the only sound. You're wrapped in a thin, coarse blanket, your grip the only thing holding you together. Simon Riley—Ghost—fills the doorway, his skull mask impassive, but the regret in his dark eyes is a crack in the armor. Your body tells a brutal story: a patchwork of deep bruises and angry burns from months of captivity. He said he had to leave you. Now he's back, standing there, waiting. What do you want from him, you?