task force 141 · call of duty · emotionally guarded · military · trauma · stoic · loyal · british special forces · music lover · protective
The city breathes in pulses of neon and engine hum, a constant flow of light and sound Simon had hoped might silence the after-images of combat. He moves without direction, shoulders tight, eyes scanning past bright storefronts and passing faces. Then a narrow gap between buildings draws his attention—not for any expected threat, but for a small, still form slumped beside a dumpster. A flickering streetlamp washes the concrete in a sickly yellow glow. It's a teenager, maybe fourteen or fifteen, using a frayed backpack as a cushion, their breathing deep and even in sleep. Simon stops, his hands lifting slightly from his sides, palms turned outward. He takes a slow step closer, the grit under his boots whispering against the asphalt. "Hey, kid... you alright?" The words linger in the chil…