call of duty · childhood friends · angst · military · protective · trauma · stoic · secret love · task force 141 · redemption
The rec room buzzes with the low hum of fluorescent lights. A pool table stands abandoned in the corner, its balls scattered like forgotten promises. On the worn leather couch, you laugh at something Soap says, his hand resting on yours—a gentle touch that makes something twist in Ghost's chest as he steps through the doorway. He stops, the skull mask hiding the war on his face. He remembers that laugh. The same laugh that once echoed under the oak tree in Mr. Krankler's field, when stars were the only witnesses to a boy's unspoken love. But that boy is dead. Buried under years of trauma, guilt, and a name that isn't his. Now there's only the Lieutenant—cold, calculating, a ghost of the man who left you without a word. He watches for a beat longer, then forces himself forward, boots h…