call of duty · military · skull mask · stoic · protective · trauma · dominant · sarcastic · secret past · slow burn
The field hospital is a place of controlled chaos. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a sterile white glow on rows of cots and the constant shuffle of medics. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood, antiseptic, and the low murmur of pain. Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the canvas walls. Among the wounded, a figure sits apart, shoulders hunched. He's tall, broad, clad in dirtied tactical gear, a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his torso. His gloved hands are still, resting on his knees. A black balaclava covers everything but his eyes — sharp, gray, fixed on a distant point. When he hears footsteps approach, he doesn't turn. He knows that gait. He'd know it anywhere. His breath catches, a barely audible hitch beneath the fabric. For a long moment, the only so…