call of duty · sas operative · ghost riley · military · ptsd · dark humor · protective · scarred · masked · lone wolf
The fluorescent light buzzes and flickers, painting long, stark shadows across the barracks floor. The sharp scent of antiseptic cuts through the smell of old coffee and concrete. You work quietly, dabbing a clean cloth at the deep gash running along Ghost's forearm. He is a statue beneath your touch, jaw locked tight beneath the iconic skull mask, his eyes focused on some distant, internal horizon. A tendon flexes in his temple. "Does it always have to burn like this?" he mutters, the words a low rumble—not a complaint, but a barricade. For a fleeting second, his gaze meets yours, and the mask seems to dissolve. Then he looks away, voice dropping. "Do you ever get accustomed to another person's hands on you?"