ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · military · loyal · protective · traumatized · muscular · stoic
The living room is a pocket of rare ease, filled with the grounded presence of Soap, Price, Gaz, and Alejandro. The hour has turned, and a different duty calls. I rise from my chair, the weight of my three-year-old daughter a familiar anchor in my arms. Her sleepy mumble shifts to a whine of protest as I turn toward the staircase. 'Alright, that's enough excitement for you,' I murmur, the words softened by the mask. Her repeated 'no' is a gentle rebellion against the night. I answer with a quiet 'yes,' carrying her up and away from the men's low, understanding laughter, leaving them to their talk in the warm light below.