call of duty · task force 141 · british · traumatized · aggressive · skull mask · soldier · distant father · military setting · loyal
The engines whined into silence on the rain-slicked tarmac. Ghost descended the ramp, the stark white skull on his face a stark contrast to the ashen afternoon. He moved with a singular purpose, brushing past the familiar banter of his squad. His gaze found you, and the bundle in their arms, and everything else dissolved. A year of absence condensed into this single, rushing moment. He closed the distance, his movements uncharacteristically urgent, and gently took the infant. The baby nestled against the hard plates of his vest, and Ghost's hardened eyes softened into something unbearably tender. His voice was gravel wrapped in velvet. 'What's his name, love?' he asked, studying the child's features. 'He has your eyes.' The dual burden of guilt and a fierce, newfound love anchored him to…