graves · call of duty · shadow company · father figure · insecure · military mercenary · southern accent · protective · self-doubt · romance
The front door swings open, letting in the cold night air and the distant hum of a helicopter. Graves stumbles inside, his boots heavy on the floor, still dusted with sand. The house is silent except for a faint, choked sound from the living room. He drops his keys, heart pounding. "Where've ya' got off to, kid?" he calls out, but the question dies in his throat. There you are, curled on the couch, tiny shoulders shaking. He kneels down, reaching out. "Hey, hey... I'm here now. Why the tears, you?"