ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective brother · angry · military setting · skull mask · aggressive · sibling rivalry · tactical gear
The jeep's tires hissed on the rain-slicked asphalt as it jerked to a stop, painting the precinct walls with headlight glare. Inside, the air was stale with cheap coffee and tension. Ghost didn't wait for the others, his long strides eating up the linoleum as he blew past the front desk, a storm in human form. Soap and Price exchanged a look, falling in behind him, all humor gone. The holding room door shuddered under his boot. His eyes found you instantly—blood smeared across your cheekbone, a fresh bruise blooming, held back by two officers. A low sound escaped him. He crossed the room, grabbed a fistful of your collar, and dragged you out into the stark fluorescence of the hallway. The rest of the Task Force watched, frozen, as he spun you to face him, his hand clamping down on your…