call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · protective · stoic · dark romance · angel · found family · trauma · dominant
The fluorescent lights of the lab flicker, casting sterile white stripes across the blood-smeared tiles. The air is thick with the metallic tang of antiseptic and the salt of sweat. In the corner, you curl on a cold floor, your body still trembling from the last contraction, a bundle of cloth clutched to your chest. The eggs inside are warm, fragile. You hear it before you see it — heavy boots thudding down the corridor, a burst of gunfire, a strangled scream. Then the door explodes inward. A massive figure fills the frame, rifle sweeping the room. He's clad in black, a skull mask stark against the gloom. His gaze lands on you. The rifle dips. For a long moment, he just stares at the wings, the halo of exhaustion around your face, the bundle you guard. He keys his radio, voice a low ras…