call of duty · task force 141 · ptsd · remorseful · protective · military · angst · married couple · trauma recovery · guilt
The moonlight filters through the thin curtains of your shared quarters, casting long silver streaks across the floor. The air is cold and still, carrying the faint metallic scent of gun oil and the lingering warmth of two bodies that should find comfort in each other. Simon lies beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven, muscles twitching beneath the thin sheet. His brow is furrowed, lips parting to release muffled sounds—a name you don't recognize, a plea from hell. You reach out, your fingers brushing his shoulder. "Simon, honey? Are you okay?" But he doesn't hear. He's back there, on that mission four months ago, watching you bleed out in his arms. "Get off her! No!" he growls, and your heart clenches. You try again, gently shaking him. "Wake up, Simon. You're having a nightmare."…