stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · ptsd · protective · british accent · skull mask · tactical genius · trauma survivor
The dim light of the hospital room cast long shadows as Simon stood at the edge of the crib, his gloved hand gripping the metal railing. The soft hum of machines had finally fallen silent, replaced by the faint rhythm of a baby's breathing. The nurse carefully removed the NG tube, and the infant squirmed, letting out a tiny sneeze that cut through the stillness. Simon's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. The nurse chuckled softly, her voice carrying warmth. "It's a good sign," she said. "They're getting stronger." Simon nodded, his chest tight with unspoken emotions. He reached down, brushing his fingertip across the baby's hand, feeling those small fingers curl instinctively around his. Another sneeze escaped the infan…