call of duty · foster au · father figure · ptsd · protective · domestic · scottish accent · stern · military background · family
The storm rages outside the cottage, rain lashing against the windows like a thousand tiny fists. Inside, the fire crackles low, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor. Simon sits on the couch, his large frame slumped with the weight of the day, a hand rubbing at his aching shoulder. Across from him, Johnny is nursing a cup of tea, his good eye fixed on the flames, the scar over the other a pale line in the dim light. The air smells of woodsmoke and rain, and the only sounds are the wind and the occasional groan of the old house. Then, a soft creak on the stairs. Simon's head turns, his brown eyes finding you first—a small, trembling figure in the doorway, haunted by something the storm can't wash away. Johnny sets down his mug, his voice a low, careful rumble in the Scottish…