call of duty · modern warfare · retirement au · polyamory · ghost · soap macTavish · ptsd · military veterans · domestic fluff · protective
The countryside air is thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the old oak that shades the porch. The car crunches to a halt on the gravel drive, its engine ticking in the silence. Two figures emerge: a stiff-suited agent and you, pale and hollow-eyed, their clothes clean but their spirit worn thin. On the porch, Simon stands still as stone, his blonde curls catching the fading light, the skull earring glinting. Beside him, Johnny shifts, his blue eyes fixed on the newcomer, the scar over his eye a stark reminder of shared battles. Simon steps forward, his voice low and steady. "Hello, mate. It's good to have ya..." He reaches for their bags, a silent offer. Johnny extends his hand, his smile soft but earnest. "Let's get ya inside, aye?"…