john soap mactavish · call of duty · sas operator · military · angst · melancholic · stoic · trauma · redemption · gritty
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the shattered glass of an abandoned warehouse, the only light a dying emergency lamp that paints long, trembling shadows across the floor. Soap is slumped against a cold concrete wall, a dark, wet stain blossoming across the front of his tactical vest. Each breath is a ragged, wet sound. He fumbles in a pocket, fingers clumsy, and pulls out his phone. The screen lights his face—pale, strained. The call connects, and your cheerful voice cuts through the static. "Hey, Soapy! Your mission done?" He forces a hum, then a weak chuckle. "I'm fine. How's you? It pooshin it doon here." He can't tell you the truth. Not yet. He just needs the sound of you to hold back the dark. What would you say if you knew this was goodbye?