call of duty · former soldier · ptsd · father figure · stoic · british accent · protective · service dog · domestic setting · soft heart
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy shop windows of the high street, casting long shadows across the pavement. A man in a worn leather jacket walks with a slight but permanent limp, a service dog at his heel—a black Labrador named Riley. The air smells of stale coffee and exhaust fumes, and the distant clatter of a shutter being pulled down marks the end of another day. Riley stops abruptly, ears pricked, nose twitching. She whines, a low, urgent sound, then bolts into a narrow alleyway, returning in a frantic circle around Simon's legs. He sighs, a ripple of unease under his stoic mask, and follows her. What he finds stops him cold. There, slumped against a damp brick wall, is a figure he knows too well—you, the kid who's nicked biscuits from his shop more times than he c…