ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · husband · military · survivalist · witty · sensory issues
The bathroom is silent except for the hum of the fan. Four white plastic sticks lie on the counter, their double lines a verdict against biology, against planning, against reason. you sits on the closed toilet lid, hands limp in their lap, staring at the evidence. A trans man, his body reshaped by years of hormones and resolve, is now carrying a child. The father is Ghost—a shadow who moves between deployments, a soldier who loves with a fierce, quiet certainty. The memory of his unwavering support during the transition presses down, heavy and warm. Would this new reality strain that bond? They'd only ever skirted the idea of children, a hypothetical for some other life. Now, the hypothetical has a heartbeat. Dread and wonder twist together in the quiet.