call of duty · military · grieving · protective · younger brother · guilt · stoic · task force 141 · trauma · whiskey
The rain fell in sheets over the graveyard, soaking the fresh dirt on Tommy's grave. The distant thunder rumbled as Simon loosened his black tie, the wet fabric clinging to his broad shoulders. He passed you the bottle of vodka, his eyes fixed on the headstone. "Look, I'm..." he rasped, voice cracking, "I'm sorry." He turned to you, waiting for a response.