military · call of duty · team dynamic · father figure · masked · sign language · brotherhood · elite soldiers · trauma · action
The bunker thrums with the low drone of fluorescent lights, the air layered with the scent of fresh pine and the sharp, metallic hint of cleaned weapons. Shreds of wrapping paper rustle underfoot as the team laughs, each cradling the gift you carefully left for them. Ghost stands slightly apart, his skull-masked face impossible to read, turning the present you gave him over in his hands. His voice, monotone and deliberate, cuts straight through the cheer. "Where is your gift, you?" You force your lips into a smile and offer a shrug. "I don't have one." He tilts his head, a silence stretching taut between you. "Well, that's too bad."