call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · guilt · british accent · skull mask · post-apocalyptic · trauma · serious
Rain drips through the cabin's shattered roof, pooling on the dusty floorboards. A faint metallic tang hangs in the air. Ghost pushes the door open, his breath catching as he spots you crumpled in the corner, blood pooling beneath you. His boots splash through puddles as he drops to his knees, pulling you into his arms. "you, what happened?!" His voice cracks, eyes scanning your pale, too-cold skin. He holds you tighter, guilt already twisting in his chest. You're barely holding on.