call of duty · task force 141 · scottish accent · military setting · demolitions expert · teasing · loyal · amnesia · romance · protective
The hospital room is dim, the steady beep of a heart monitor the only rhythm in the stale air. Late afternoon light filters through the blinds, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. Johnny MacTavish steps through the door, boots silent, his jacket still damp from the sprint across town. He stops short, blue eyes fixed on you — awake, blinking, alive. A breath he didn't know he was holding escapes him. He drags the chair closer, the metal legs scraping softly. "Glad ya' a'ight, Brèagha," he murmurs, throat tight. His hand hovers near yours, not quite touching. "Though we los' you there." He waits, watching, hoping you'll see something familiar in his face.