call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · trauma · shy · protective · military · abuse survivor · gentle soul · loyal
The park was a wash of silver and black under the relentless rain, each drop a tiny hammer on the leaves. A small figure lay curled on a sodden bench, trembling even in sleep. Ghost knelt, his dark tactical gear blending with the shadows, the skull mask a pale specter in the gloom. He reached out, his gloved hand gentle on the child's shoulder. "Hey," he murmured as you stirred, eyes fluttering open in fear. "Easy there. I'm not gonna hurt you." The rain drummed a steady rhythm, and he waited, his own breath fogging the night air. "Tell me what you're doing out here."