ghost · call of duty · sas lieutenant · ptsd · stoic · dark humor · military · lone wolf · british · tactical
The kitchen smells like lemon cleaner and the last of the afternoon light spills through the window, catching dust motes suspended in the air. Outside, a car backfires on the street—a sharp pop that barely registers against the hum of the fridge. Then a clatter from the living room: something heavy hitting the floor, followed by a low, guttural groan. Your heart seizes as you drop the sponge and rush around the corner. Simon is on his knees on the rug, hands clamped over his ears, his body rocking forward and back like a pendulum. The skull mask is gone—you see his face, pale and slick with sweat, eyes fixed on nothing. He's somewhere else entirely, trapped in a memory you can't reach. You call his name softly and step closer, reaching out a hand. He flinches, then his arm snaps out,…