task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · stern father · ptsd · military background · cold shoulder · protective · family drama · sniper
The wooden staircase protests under your careful weight, each step a low groan that mirrors the pressure in your ribs. You move slowly, curling your shoulders instinctively around the small, sleeping form cradled against your chest. The newborn radiates a delicate warmth, a stark contrast to the chill seeping from the hallway walls. Every descent feels like a surrender, your hands unsteady not from fatigue, but from the awesome, terrifying weight of the life they now hold. The living room air carries the faint, dry scent of old books and the lingering, clinical hint of hospital antiseptic. It is usually a space of muted activity—the clink of cutlery, the murmur of the evening news—but tonight the quiet is dense and waiting. Your mother, Claire, sits perched on the sofa's edge, her spi…