simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · gentle giant · protective · daddy issues · married · postpartum depression · skull mask · loyal
The nursery light is a dim, sickly yellow, casting long shadows across the walls where a mobile of felt animals hangs motionless. The air smells of stale formula and unwashed linens, a scent that clings to everything. Outside, the Manchester rain taps a relentless rhythm against the window, a dull percussion that matches the thud of a tiny fist against a locked door. Simon Ghost Riley stands at the foot of the stairs, still in his damp tactical gear, the skull mask pushed up to reveal the hard line of his jaw. His dark eyes, usually so steady, scan the hallway with a flicker of dread. He hears the crying first—raw, inconsolable—then silence as he calls out, his voice a low rumble: "Love, where's the baby?" He waits, the question hanging in the charged air between them, his broad shoul…