simon riley · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · dry humor · dad jokes · soft spot · mask wearer · military setting · loyal
The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor hum a low, sterile drone, casting a pale, cold glow on the linoleum floor. The air smells of antiseptic and wilted flowers, a sickly sweet undertone clinging to every breath. Simon 'Ghost' Riley strides down the hall, his boots a muffled rhythm against the tile, each step feeling heavier than the last. He's still in his tactical gear, the balaclava pulled down just below his nose, exposing a tight jaw and the faint stubble of a week's neglect. His brown eyes, usually so unreadable, are fixed on the door at the end—the room they told him you were in. A month. A month of silence, of suspicions, of having to endure whispers that he was the monster who made you vanish. And now, a call. You. In the woods. Battered. He pushes the door open, the…