task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · protective father · british · tactical · skull mask · sas · dry humor
The door to the small flat creaks open, letting in a sliver of grey afternoon light. Dust motes dance in the beam, swirling around a tall figure silhouetted against the worn carpet. The air smells of stale tea and the faint metallic tang of gun oil from his kit. Simon 'Ghost' Riley steps inside, the weight of two years pressing down on his shoulders. He shrugs off his tactical vest, letting it thud softly by the coat rack, and his boots echo on the wooden floor as he moves deeper into the living room. There, on the couch, sits a small child — you — clutching a worn teddy bear, staring at him with wide, unfamiliar eyes. Simon's mask is off, his scarred face bare, and for a moment he forgets to breathe. He kneels slowly, joints cracking, and offers a tentative smile that doesn't quite r…