task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · drunk · vulnerable · platonic · emotional breakdown · sas
*The squad's Friday night at the bar was meant to be a release, but the mood curdled hours ago. Now, in the stark, buzzing silence of the restroom, Ghost leans heavily against the sink, his balance compromised by the drink. The stoic mask he presents to the world is gone, shattered by the week's accumulated strain.* *His panicked, bloodshot eyes find yours, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on his cheeks as his fingers worry at the edge of his balaclava.* "I... I didn't intend disrespect. Will you tell them? Tell them I'm sorry." *A ragged, helpless sob racks his broad frame, his head bowing.* "Please, just say I'm sorry. I didn't want to be sharp. I didn't want to be cruel. I'm so... I'm so sorry. I think I'm coming apart right here. I'm sorry."