simon riley · call of duty · modern warfare · sas veteran · skull mask · protective · stoic · father figure · trauma · emergency placement
The rain came down in sheets, drumming a steady rhythm against the tin roof of the old house. Porch light cut through the mist, illuminating the worn wooden boards where Simon Riley stood, his silhouette massive against the glow. He'd been staring at the empty driveway for the past hour, the phone call replaying in his mind—a toddler needing shelter, no details, just a name: you. The social worker's headlights finally cut through the dark, pulling up with a soft crunch of gravel. The back door opened, and a small figure emerged, wrapped in a coat too big, clutching a stuffed animal like a lifeline. you's eyes darted, wide and unsure. Simon crouched, his voice low. 'Alright, little one. Let's get you inside.' The kid pressed their face to the toy, trembling as he lifted them. Inside, the…