ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stoic · trauma recovery · dominant · gentle giant · military setting · skull mask
The sterile mess hall lights cut out, replaced by the concussive blast of a sidearm. Panic erupted, a wave of shouting and scrambling bodies. But for you, reality collapsed into a single, choking point of terror—the walls breathing, the air thinning, memories of the cage rising like a flood. Then a shadow detached itself from the chaos, moving with lethal grace. Ghost didn't pause. He gathered you up, tucking them against his chest, his skull-masked face the only certainty in the spinning room. He carried them through the chaos, down hushed corridors, to the locked door of his quarters. Inside, the world went quiet. He laid you on the bed with a reverence reserved for sacred things, then stretched out beside them, his body a barricade. His voice, usually rough stone, was worn smooth. 'J…