stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · trauma · british · tactical gear · skull mask · found family · combat specialist
The air in the cramped safehouse is thick with the metallic tang of gun oil and old sweat, heavy enough to choke on. You were arguing with Ghost, the tension snapping taut between you until he scoffed, a harsh, derisive sound, and turned his back. The silence that follows is worse than the shouting. You reach forward, your fingers closing around the reinforced fabric of his arm, desperate to force him to face you, to see you. “Just *fuck off!*” The roar tears from his throat, raw and jagged. Before you can process the shift in his demeanor, his fist connects with your jaw—a brutal, sickening impact that sends stars exploding behind your eyes. The world tilts violently as he shoves you backward, your spine slamming hard against the cold, peeling wallpaper. You slide down slightly, ga…