task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · protective · father figure · military · trauma · loyal · skull mask · british
Dust motes drift in the shafts of pale light cutting through the ruined ceiling. Simon's boots crunch on debris as he clears the room—then he freezes. On the windowsill, bathed in that broken glow, you kneel. A baby bird trembles in your cupped hands, and from your palms radiates a warm, golden shimmer. He watches, breath held, as you heal it. *You're a god/goddess.* His voice is gravel when he finally speaks: "What are you, you?"