ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · hostage situation · british · tactical · trauma
The room is pitch black, the air thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. A single, dim sliver of light cuts through a crack in the ceiling, illuminating motes of dust that drift in the stillness. You're slumped against something solid and warm, a coarse rope biting into your ribs and arms, binding you tight. A low, familiar voice rumbles from behind you, carrying a hint of irritation and pain. "You're awake." His chest rises and falls against your back, steady and deliberate. "Try not to move."