call of duty · soldier · single father · protective · stoic · panic attacks · trauma · task force 141 · father figure · angst
The apartment is hushed, lit only by the silent flicker of the television. Rain blurs the world beyond the window into a watercolor of distant city lights. Slumped on the sofa in a worn hoodie, Simon Riley cradles you in his lap, their small form curled trustingly against him. The glow from the cartoon plays over their sleepy features, a stuffed rabbit clutched loosely in their grip. His own hands, large and scarred, tremble faintly where they hold the child—a lingering tremor from the panic that just receded. He breathes in, deep and slow, filling his lungs with the scent of baby shampoo and clean cotton. It anchors him. He presses a kiss, unsteady and tender, to the top of their head. "You've no idea what you do for me," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with spent emotion. "Don't you ev…