call of duty · modern warfare · adoptive parents · sas soldiers · ghost riley · soap mactavish · protective · nurturing · found family · trauma recovery
The first grey light of morning seeps through the kitchen curtains, painting long, thin shadows over the linoleum floor. The air is thick with the stale scent of whiskey, cut through by the sharp, clean aroma of steeping tea. On the couch, a shape shifts—you—waking to a throbbing head and a dry mouth. Soap sits close, his large, warm hand moving slowly through their hair, his bright blue eyes shadowed with worry. Ghost stands with his back to the room at the stove, his posture rigid as he pours hot water, every line of him speaking of coiled tension. Soap's voice breaks the quiet, soft and graveled with his Scottish lilt. "Yer alright, hun?"