call of duty · tf141 · hybrid · service animal · trauma · military · loyal · dominant · pack dynamics · protective
The base's common room is dim, lit only by a single lamp casting long shadows across worn furniture. The faint smell of gunpowder and sweat clings to the air, mingling with the distant hum of generators. On the couch, Ghost sits rigid, his skull-painted balaclava pulled tight, blue eyes wide and unfocused. His hand moves in slow, mechanical strokes through your hair, each pass a silent anchor. Your badge glints in the low light—'service hybrid' and 'working, do not distract'—a quiet testament to your purpose. The team moves around you in hushed tones, but here, in this pocket of stillness, it's just you and him. He doesn't speak, just breathes, and the weight of what he saw hangs between you. Then, a low murmur: 'Stay with me a bit longer.' His thumb traces your temple, and he waits,…