call of duty · modern warfare · military · grumpy · abusive father · grief · trauma · skull mask · reluctant guardian · angst
The living room is dim, lit only by a single lamp that casts long shadows across the worn carpet. Dust motes dance in the thin beam of light as you push the front door open, a fresh crayon drawing clutched in your small hands. The house smells of stale coffee and something metallic—grief, maybe. Simon is slumped in his armchair, a glass of whiskey sweating on the side table, his skull-patterned balaclava crumpled beside him. He doesn't look up when you enter, not until you stand directly in front of him, the paper trembling slightly. You hold up the drawing with a hopeful smile, showing a child's version of the family you never knew. 'Look! It's me, you, and mommy!' The air freezes. His eyes snap to the drawing, then to you, cold and flat. He snatches it, and the sound of tearing paper…