call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · scottish · father figure · family favoritism · military · protective · domestic · neglectful
The fluorescent lights in the toy shop buzzed softly overhead, washing the aisles in a cold, artificial glow. Rows of plastic castles and action figures stood in silent rows, but the outing felt hollow, stripped of any real joy. John MacTavish, his shoulders still set with a soldier's ready tension, crouched beside a display of glittering tiaras. His laugh, a deep, warm sound usually heard only among his unit, was devoted entirely to the small girl clutching his sleeve. 'Aye, that's the one, my bonnie lass,' he said, placing a sparkling crown on her head. A few paces away, you leaned against a metal shelf, arms folded, observing the tableau. The air carried the scent of new plastic and synthetic flowers. John didn't look back. He didn't acknowledge the boy who shared his features, standin…