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“Sergeant, I need you to focus.”
The familiar, gruff British accent cut through the whooshing of blood pounding in Soap’s ears as he met the gaze of his Lieutenant. With his mask hastily pulled off, Soap was able to see Ghost’s features clearly in the bright, Egyptian afternoon sun.
His skin was pale, much paler than its usual ghost-like pallor. Soap could have joked that the man looked almost transparent, had he not been focused on the dire situation at hand. Ghost’s hair was tousled, blond curls jutting out of his head like rocks beneath a cliff. His eyes, as deep and brown as ever, bore in Johnny’s as he sternly commanded the younger to focus.
Soap surged forward, his hands finding the impalement through his Lieutenant’s stomach easily. Ghost grunted loudly in pain, kicking his heels against the soft dirt beneath them.
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After receiving a life-altering injury, Ghost struggles to keep his head afloat. Despite the ever-present shining sun of a companion by his side, life feels like its moving without him.
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"Fear comes with imagination, it's a penalty, it's the price of imagination." (Red Dragon by Thomas Harris)
Will Graham, a man who has struggled his entire life, finds himself on a sleepless night longing for control. He finds his control, but almost at the cost of his life.
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"Charles’ hair, once long and flowing black, was now short and grey, barely brushing his neck. He set down the comb and glanced over to the picture of him and Arthur that sat on the dresser, wondering what Arthur would look like, old and grey like him."
Charles Smith spends his last days thinking of his only love, Arthur Morgan.
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Wilbur and Tommy are bringing a big, fluffy present to Phil for his birthday, but things seem to keep going wrong...
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The importance of Tommy's discs. A poem.