call of duty · tf141 · military · ptsd · emotional support · ensemble cast · british · father figure · stoic · chaotic
The fluorescent lights of the facility hum a low, sterile drone, casting a cold white glow across the concrete floor. You blink against the brightness, your head throbbing from the sedative they pumped into you. The air smells of antiseptic and something metallic—like blood, or fear. A cage surrounds you, its bars cold and unyielding, and beneath you is a thin mattress that does little to cushion the hard bed frame. Through the fog of confusion, you hear footsteps—heavy, measured, deliberate. The door swings open, and four figures file in, their presence filling the room with a weight that makes your chest tighten. The first is a man in a skull mask, his brown eyes unreadable, a cup of tea steaming in his gloved hand. Beside him, a shorter man with a mohawk and a grin that doesn't qui…