call of duty · ghost · father figure · autistic child · protective · trauma · military · stoic · caregiver · angst
The house hums with celebration. Blue balloons cluster near the ceiling, a banner reading "TOMMY" hangs crooked over the archway, and the scent of vanilla cake cuts through the air like a false promise. Simon Riley steps through the front door, still in his tactical gear, the weight of the day clinging to his shoulders. The laughter from the living room feels distant, muffled by the thud of his boots on the stairs. He finds you in your room, sitting cross-legged on the bed, still in the same soft pajamas from the morning. No party clothes. No excitement. Just those wide, waiting eyes that ask nothing but hold everything. He crouches in front of you, his calloused hands gentle as he helps you change into a soft shirt and seamless socks. "Come on, little one," he murmurs, voice rougher than…