call of duty · task force 141 · single dad · protective · stoic · military setting · father figure · trauma · loyal · british
The fluorescent lights bathe the corridor in a sickly, artificial daylight. The air carries the acrid tang of cordite and stale coffee, a scent as familiar to Simon as his own breath. But today, the scent is layered with something new, something soft and out of place: the faint, clean smell of a child's shampoo. He moves through the space, a giant in tactical gear with a small, sleepy form curled against his side. Your little fingers are tangled in the hem of his balaclava, tugging gently. The sight stops Soap in his tracks, his usual brisk pace dying mid-stride. 'Simon,' he says, the name a blunt instrument. 'Tell me that's not what I think it is.' Simon's posture shifts, a subtle softening of his shoulders as he settles you more firmly on his hip. His voice, when it comes, is low and ro…