Chapter Text
TWO YEARS AGO
“Attention!” Captain Price’s voice echoed as you readied yourself, hands at your side and chin raised proudly. “Introduce yourself, Sergeant.”
Your eyes hardened as you made eye contact with each member of the 141 Task Force. “They call me Crow.” You smirked as your gaze landed on John ‘Soap’ MacTavish. “Lovely to see you again, Dove.”
“Hitchcock.” He nodded his head in greeting, a responding grin on his face.
“Excuse me,” A gruff Manchester accent came from the tall man next to Soap. His eyes were barely visible behind his skull mask. “How the fuck do you two know each other?”
Both of your smirks widened as you responded at the same time: “We trained together, sir.”
“Oh god, there’s two of them.” The man next to Price commented quietly— you think his name was Gaz. Then he said, “Wait, ‘Crow’? Like, what we call new soldiers?”
Your proud smirk stretched into a teethy grin—a clear sign to RUN. “No, ‘Crow’ like intelligent, adaptable— deadly .” You answered.
Gaz grinned right back. “Nice.”
Price sighed, “Welcome to 141, Crow.”
“Pleasure to be here, sir.” Your eyes drifted back to hidden hazel, staring curiously into your own gaze.
PRESENT TIME
Two bodies dropped as Ghost and you silently flung knifes at their exposed necks. “Nice shot, Lt.”
“Shut up.” You knew that at this point the adrenaline was keeping him on his feet and focused. His steps didn’t falter now, and his aim was deadly like it always was.
“I’m just impressed, is all. Don’t think I’d be able to properly throw a dagger that well if I was concussed.” You said lightly, approaching the bodies and removing their radios, attaching one to your vest.
“Good thing you’re not me, then.” He grunted, keeping guard as you scavenged the corpses. You threw the other radio over your head, hearing the sound of Ghost’s gloves catching it perfectly. He started the fiddle with the channels, cracking through them until he settled on one frequency. “This is Ghost in the blind, how copy?”
Quiet static sounded from his radio. While he waited for a response, you gathered the Shadows’ weapons. You methodically checked for how much ammo they had and any possible problems or defects. Once you were happy with what you saw, you slipped them into place: a semi-automatic rifle over your shoulder and a hand gun at your thigh. There was a long range rifle along with another hand gun, both of which you gave to Ghost. As he slung the rifle over his own shoulder, you slipped the gun into place at the holster on his chest.
“How’s the radio looking?” You asked, placing your hands on your hips and looking up into his piercing gaze. You realize, with widening eyes, that you were extremely close. He stared down at you as you took a step back, then he looked back at the radio. “Did you try the emergency channel?” You asked weakly.
His eyes shot back to yours, squinting as he said, “No response.”
“Right, yeah, I knew that.” You mumbled as you rubbed your neck.
“Thought crows were supposed to be intelligent.”
“Well, hold on now-“ Your voice raising in volume and pitch.
He brought his hand up, immediately silencing you. His head turned slightly, listening in. “We better get moving—we can get contact later.” He said barely above a whisper. “We’re too exposed here.”
You nodded as he began to move down the hallway that you had infiltrated just a moment ago. As you followed his silent steps, you began to think about what happened to the rest of your team. Soap was also dispatched on this mission, but you hadn’t seen him since Ghost and you entered the building. When it came to missions, after Las Almas, Ghost and Soap were a package deal. But shortly after that mission, you came into the picture and suddenly they couldn’t send one of you without sending out the other two. You worked well with Soap despite spending 89% of the time bickering and insulting each other— normally using whatever creative name you had settled on that day. But when you put Ghost, Soap, and you on one mission, it was almost a guaranteed success. Almost. And, Ghost and you were respectfully dangerous on your own, but together? They never stood a chance.
Suddenly, you got ripped out of your thoughts as Ghost plastered his hand on your chest and flattened you against the wall. You were about to protest, ask him what the fuck he was doing, but he just looked at you with a silencing glare. Then, you heard the footsteps. They seemed to approach your location, but there was a possibility that they would just walk past this hallway and continue on without even noticing the Lieutenant and you. You could feel the dangerous buzz under your skin as your hand slowly moved down to the gun at your side. Ghost’s hand clenched around your vest— a warning signal not yet . His own back was against the wall, his heavy breathing expanding his tactical vest as he turned his gaze to the direction of the footsteps. You could see the shadows of the men approach, your breath steady as you turned off the safety on your gun. Ghost’s hand quickly detached from your vest, shooting to his own and unfastening his gun. The Shadows ran right past you, seemingly too distracted with their own orders that they didn’t even notice the danger at their heels. Ghost took one step forward. Quickly, your hand shot out and grabbed the back of his vest, his head whipping around, glaring daggers into your eyes. He fully turned around and crowded you against the wall, vest to vest.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He quietly rumbled. His eyes burned with a fury that you have never seen before. Woah .
For a moment all your brain could think was: Simon Simon Simon Simon Simon Simon — “Our priority is to get out of here alive . We should get to the roof for a better signal and go from there.” You whispered against his mask, because that was how close you were. You thought for second that you could feel his breath through the fabric covering his face. “We’re both injured, Ghost, we need to get out in one piece.” You remind him. “We should avoid combat unless absolutely necessary.”
“No comb —?”
“You know I’m right.” You interrupted, pushing further into his chest. His head lowered slightly, his nose almost touched yours.
He pushed away from you and quietly stalked to the opening of the hall. “On me.” He growled lowly.
“Right behind you, Lt.” You whispered behind him, a bit breathless.
Ghost turned the corner and went in the direction where the Shadows had originally come from. He held one of his daggers in his hand as he put his gun away. You both advanced down the hallway rapidly and silently. The cut on your side protested as you practically ran alongside your Lieutenant. You quickly put one hand to your side to check the bandage that Ghost had put on you earlier. The bandage still seemed to be in place, but your hand came back bloody. I need stitches. Fucking Shit
“Problem?” Ghost murmured as you neared a corner.
“No, sir.” You responded, wiping the blood on the back of your pants. “You?” He looked back at you, eyes narrow. But instead of answering, he just kept moving, sweeping the area and making sure it was safe to move. “ I’m fine, little bird. I can’t die I’m too stubborn and a man. ” You mumble with a poor attempt at a Manchester accent.
“Are you making fun of me?” He turns towards you, eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s horrible.”
“Well, not all of us can be blessed with your punch-me-in-the-face accent.”
“So we’re at the ‘let’s make fun of Manchester’ part of the night, are we?” You just know that he’s smirking under that mask.
“The timeline was accelerated when you decided to get angry at me without a good reason.”
He sighed as you moved down a different hallway. This time, the hall was dimly lit, some of the over head lighting hanging on by a single wire as if they were broken off or something. At the end of the long corridor stood a glowing red sign.
EXIT
“Well I’ll be damned.” Ghost rumbled as be walked towards the exit. You scoffed as he very clearly ignored what you said. Once you approached the door bellow the sign, Ghost and you settled on either side of it, weapons at the ready. “Crow,” he suddenly said, “I’m not mad at you.”
“No?” You huff quietly.
“Negative,” He confirmed, “They hurt you and I wanted to kill them.”
“Oh.” Your mouth brilliantly supplied. “You alright now?”
He chuckled darkly as he responded, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, bird. Let’s get to the roof.”
Your eyes meet as he hesitates for a second, hand on the door handle. With a quiet nod from you, he opens it.
A WEEK AGO…
It was one of those nights where nightmares kept waking you up from much needed sleep. It was extremely frustrating to say the least. It’s always during a long rest period between missions that they get worse. You turned on your bedside lamp once you realized that sleep was a lost cause, grumbling and huffing to yourself about stupid trauma . You looked at your nightstand and the book that sat on top of it. You didn’t have much time to read, but it was still nice to see the books that littered your quarters. You picked the book up, deciding to restart the novel entirely because you had no idea what was going on so far. Quickly, you got engulfed by the story. A hidden magic society in a Victorian murder mystery with a side of enemies to lovers. Nice. The main character wasn’t annoyingly naive for once— though the word ‘himbo’ floated around your head as his point of view continued. You reached over to your phone, deciding to play some soft music in the background when there was a knock at your door.
You looked up from your book, frazzled from the sudden fall back into reality. The knocks had been solid, but soft enough that it wouldn’t have been too jarring if you had been asleep. Slowly, you get up from bed, tentatively approaching the door as if it were a distressed animal. You opened the door just a crack, hand flying to the gun you kept next to your door in case of emergencies. All of your anxiety flowed out of your body in an instant as you widened the door to be fully open.
“Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.” You quietly joked as you softly smiled up at, what looked like, an equally exhausted, Ghost.
He seemed to pause, the words that had been on his tongue suddenly disintegrating into nothing. He leaned against the door frame, hands moving in and out of the pockets of his sweats. He’s nervous, you noted.
Your brow furrowed as you stepped closer to him, trying to gouge his expression or thoughts through what little you could see on his face. He wore one of his plain balaclavas that left the whole middle part of his face exposed. You looked down to his t-shirt and smiled wider, a borderline grin really. “Ghost, is that the matching One Direction shirt I got for you and Soap last Christmas?”
Something in his stiff frame seemed to unfurl at the comment, a sigh breaking from his heavy, tired breathing. “Could I stay the night?”
Your hand came up and lightly tapped on his chest, above his heart. “You don’t even need to ask.” You silently walked back to your bed, hearing the soft click of the door shutting as Ghost entered the room. You took off the hoodie and pijama pants you had been sleeping in, stretching your limbs out as you settled back into bed. The book now carefully discarded back on the nightstand.
“Why are you getting naked?” Ghost asked, humor tinting his grizzly voice.
You smirked at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, carefully taking off his shoes. “I am getting comfortable because I am fully aware that you are a human furnace. I plan to not overheat and at least get some sleep.” Even to your own ears, the sleep part sounded like a flat out lie.
He just hummed in response. “Alright, scoot.” He gestured for you to move over, making you scoff.
“This is my bed, Lieutenant.”
“Scoot.” He said again, you could see his eyebrows raise in halfhearted warning.
“The disrespect…” You mutter as you shift to the other side of your bed, leaving enough room for Ghost to fit in the empty space. He gets under the covers and simply lays on his back for a second. You sit up to reach over and turn the light off, but when you do, you meet his tired gaze.
“Hello.” He grumbled.
“Shut up.” You said as you put a hand on his chest for leverage. You didn’t want to fall over while trying to reach the small lamp at your side. Yes, you could have asked him to turn it off himself. But you didn’t. A silent chuckle shook from under your hand as you finally shut off the light successfully. You plopped back down on the bed with a content sigh. You turned on to your side to speak to Ghost, but just as his did, your own words died as the outline of his face was turned towards you. You could tell that he still wore his balaclava, but as your eye sight adjusted to the little bit of moonlight spilling from around your blackout curtains, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized. You liked it when you found him staring at you first.
“Did I wake you, little bird?”
Your hands came up to absentmindedly fidget with the sleeve of Ghost’s shirt, a faint smile of the memory firmly planted on your face. You remembered the excited whooping from Soap and the disgusted look Ghost had given you. ‘Who the fuck even listens to this garbage,’ he had said as if you didn’t catch him bobbing his head along to some One Direction songs Soap and you had played in the car. “Not you.”
He doesn’t hum, he doesn’t grunt or make any noise. He does move slightly, angling his body to face yours. “What’s keeping you up?”
”What’re you running from?” He lets out a low whistle at that.
“Touché.”
You pause for a second, you hands freezing in consideration as you met glistening eyes in the dark. “Nightmares.”
His eyes roamed your face as he hummed. His hand carefully came up and cautiously started brushing your hair back, his nails gently scraping against your scalp. Now it was your turn to hum, this time with appreciation as your eyes fluttered closed.
“I can’t stay in my room because it’s haunted by everyone that died because of me.”
Your eyes shot open. Your hands tightened in his shirt as you shifted your body closer to his, your instinct to comfort him strong in your blood. His hand still moved through your hair.
“They whisper,” he murmured, “some of them try to get me back.”
Your breath bounced off his balaclava, your eyes hiding unshed tears.
“Hard to sleep when a room full of people yell that it should have been you, not them.”
This time, the tears did fall. Your hands uncurled from their grip, simply moving to rest on his chest. You felt him breathe shakily. You grabbed his free hand and placed it on your own chest, letting him feel your heart beat as the pillow soaked up your silent tears.
“Simon,” you whispered, hands moving back to his chest, moving up to rest just beneath the beginning of his balaclava. “Would you let me?”
The hand that was in your hair slid down to cup your cheek. His thumb gently rubbed away the tears that still flowed from your eyes.
“I would let you do anything.”
Slowly, your hands carefully slid up the balaclava, gently removing it from his head. His eyes closed. You could barely see an inch in front of your face in the darkness, but you gasped regardless as you saw the glimmer return to his reopened eyes. One of your hands went down and grasped on to his shirt again, while the other started to carefully trace his face. The bump on his nose, the outline of his lips, the stubble on his jaw, the scars that painted his skin. He leaned forward slightly and rested his forehead against yours. You almost started crying even harder at the touch of his skin. Three words swirled in your throat. Three words sung softly in each crevice of your brain. Each breath was coded with three words.
He whispered your name softly. “You should try to get some sleep, little bird.”
He moved his head up, gently kissing where his forehead had connected with yours.
“I’ll fight off the nightmares from you.”
You shifted down so that your could rest your head on his chest, and wrap most of your body around his. “Thank you.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his clothed chest.
He wrapped his arms around you, tightening like he was afraid you’d float away. “Go to sleep.”
NOW.
Ghost and you ran up the stairs, breath heavy as you climbed. Your vision was slightly blurry but you didn’t think much of it. So much for intelligence. “I think—“ you tried to say.
“Cmon, little bird were almost there—“ Ghost tried to say as you stumbled and almost fell on your face. You caught yourself, thankfully, and he ran to your step and started to search you for a problem. When his eyes landed on the bled through bandage he let out a frustrated breath. “You said you were fine.”
“I said there wasn’t a problem.”
“This is, very clearly, a problem, Crow.” He stared at you, deadpan.
“I’ll be fine once we make it to the roof.” You said, trying to move up the stairs. His hand shot out, grabbing on to your arm and effectively stopping you.
“We still have four more floors. You sure you can handle that?”
You nodded stubbornly. “ I’m not a child .” You smirked, using his previous words against him.
He shook his head in disbelief. “If you die it’s not my fault.”
“Tis but a flesh wound.” You muttered to yourself as he continued up the stairs. He still went at a quick pace, but he had slowed down fractionally. You mentally thanked him. As you dashed up the stairs you could feel every nerve in your body stand in attention. Then, the door you had just passed, creaked on its hinges—making panic rush through your body. When the first Shadow runs in, you shoot him in the head, no hesitation. The door that leads to the floor above you shoots open as well with a grating screech, two Shadows jumping out like a Jack in the box. You turned around in time to see Ghost easily shoot down the eager opponents. Like a bolt of lightning, and without looking, the arm holding his gun moved in your direction. And before you could even consider fear for your life, he shot another two times. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you heard a body drop behind you.
“Shut the door, Sergeant.” He said in his deep accented voice, eyes finally meeting yours as you stand still on the steps. Your heart couldn’t calm down, everything felt like too much all of a sudden. No. No. No —Why did your brain pick now to sink with dread? “That’s an order, Crow.”
You stayed there, letting the sound of rushing flood your eardrums. Everything hurt. The stairs looked oddly comfortable maybe you could just lay down here.
“You listening to me?” Ghost’s voice snapped through you like the crack of a rifle.
You lifted your gaze to meet his again to find that he was on the step above you, right in front of you. “Sorry, sir.” You murmured, head tilted back as you looked into his worried eyes. “I’m— I’m okay. I’m okay.”
You could feel him watch you for a second as you walked down to the open door and shut it, using the bodies as a sort of barricade from your side. When you turned back around, he was checking your surroundings to make sure you wouldn’t get ambushed again.
“So much for avoiding conflict.” Ghost rumbled as you caught up to him. You hummed in agreement.
Ghost and you walked up the few flights of stairs that you had left without a problem. Only, when you got to the door that had roof access, it wouldn’t budge. You pushed all of your body weight against it, trying to wield it to move. Ghost was closely behind you, constantly checking for any possible dangers. You kept slamming into the door with annoyed grunts until the Lieutenant came up behind you with a tired sigh and lifted you away from the door. He simply picked you up by the hips and put you aside like you were a piece of paper. Your mouth gaped open as he, on the first try, kicked the door open. You closed your mouth into a frown when he looked at you, his eyes crinkled with a barely hidden grin, not even the intimidating mask he wore could hide it.
“I had that.”
“Did you?” You grumbled as he walked outside.
“I loosened it for you.” You said as you trailed behind him.
“Whatever you say, little bird.” He rasped, his voice seemingly dropping an octave. He chuckled at your perplexed expression as he slammed the door shut behind you. “A jumper cable walks into a bar—“
“Absolutely not.” You interrupt, taking out the spare radio you had strapped to your vest earlier. You shifted through channels until you found the frequency that 141 used for emergencies on missions. “Death duo calling for Bravo 7-1, how copy?”
Ghost walked up to you as you paced in circles around the open space of the building’s roof. He took out his own radio, hand clenching around it as static radio silence got lost in the gentle winds of the night. You started pacing more frantically, hand coming up to clutch at your side.
“Soap, are you there? Over.” More silence. You started to slow down as you watched the horizon. The color of the sky started to very slowly change colors, signifying dawn was impending. You felt frustrated tears claw their way up your throat into your throbbing eyes. God, how did everything go so wrong so fast?
You didn’t hear Ghost approach you, but you suddenly felt a gentle gloved hand on your shoulder, your name softly spoken into the silence. You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes with your own glistening ones. His hand slowly moved up, to your neck, then into your hair. His large hand cradled your skull, and if anyone had been looking into his eyes they would have told you he looked indifferent. But you knew him. And his eyes were laced with apology and a softness that very few people got the privilege to see. Your own eyes softened as you leaned into his touch.
“Simon,” you whispered.
“ This is Bravo 7-1, Crow, Ghost, how copy? ”
Both you and Ghost startled at the radio crackling to life. Your let out a mixture between a laugh and a broken whimper as your hand brought up your radio to speak, “Solid,” you said between heavy breaths, “never thought I’d be so relieved to hear your voice, Soap.”
Soap chuckled. “ It’s lovely to hear you too, birdie. Is Lt there? ”
“Right here, Johnny.” Ghost interjected on his own radio.
“ You alright? ”
“Affirmative.” Ghost rasped out.
“ Crow? ”
“Peachy.” You huffed. “What’s your position?”
“ Still holding in sniper position in building 3. We heard an explosion, you know anything about that? ”
Ghost and you looked at each other humorously as Ghost spoke into his radio, “Affirmative. We were in it.”
“ Are you fucking joking? ”
Ghost nodded for you to take over. “Negative, Sergeant. I’m bleeding out my side and Ghost has a concussion that has made him extra silly.” Ghost rolled his eyes.
“ How are you alive?! ” Soap yelled, making his words crackle more with distortion.
You laughed as you said, “Genuinely no idea. But an emergency med evac would be nice.”
“ Yeah, of course it would be, you bampots— “
Ghost and you laughed at the frustrated Scott as he slipped into his native tongue and went off on you both.
“Soap, focus, how long is it gonna be?” Ghost said, flipping the professional switch back on.
Soap sighed. “ Could be an hour, sir. I’ll check and let you know. ” He paused, “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone .”
“We’ve got no where else to go, Dove.” You softly said into the radio.
“ Then try not to bleed out, Hitchcock. ” Soap said. And suddenly, the empty static was back and he was gone.
You let out a deep shaky breath as all this relief hit you like a fucking bus. You put a hand over where your heart would be and just breathed . You let out a wet laugh as you looked into Ghost’s eyes again, you could see the same relief in them. You threw your arms around his neck as the laughs turned into sobs, tears running down your face, clearing away the dirt from your cheeks. Slowly, he moved his arms around you. One tightened around your middle while the other brought a hand up to cradle your head once again, his fingers tangling in your hair. Your arms tightened around his as you felt his touch all around you. You sobbed into his balaclava covered neck, breathing in his scent of gunpowder, smoke, and something so painfully Ghost that you couldn’t help but lose yourself in it.
“We’ll be alright, little bird.” He rasped in your ear. Your feet were on their tippy toes, barely touching the ground as Ghost held you.
After a while, you leaned back, making your face level with his. The hand at the back of your head moved to your cheeks, wiping away the moisture from them. Your eyes searched his mask like it held all of his secrets. God, you really wanted to see him right now . His deep brown eyes held steady as he looked into yours, watching as they moved. One of your hands unwrap from behind his neck and settled at the top of his vest, your fingers brushing the edge of his balaclava-mask hybrid. You met his gaze, a silent question passing through you. He gave the smallest of nods as his thumb rubbed a soft pattern into your cheek—your tears having been completely wiped off and no longer a constant stream. Your fingers hesitantly curled under his mask and slowly pulled up. You made sure once again to go as slowly as possible to give Ghost enough time to stop you if he needed to. But he kept still as you carefully took the full thing off, exposing his nose, jaw, ashen short hair, and his lips. Oh . His lips were quirked in a small smile, stretching the thin scar on his bottom lip. In the new light of day, you could see the tired lines of his face, and that beautiful scar you loved on his nose. You put the mask in the hand that stayed wrapped around him as you brought your free hand up to trace his scars. His eyes fluttered shut as he let you touch his bare skin. You nearly cried again as he slightly leaned into your touch.
His eyes opened slowly, and softly. “It’s probably going to take a while,” he quietly rasped, whispering to conserve the fragility of the moment. “Maybe we should sit down.”
“Good idea.” You hummed as your thumb brushed over his lower lip. You watched as his lips gently kissed the pad of your finger, and suddenly you looked back up into his eyes. The warm, dark pools were playful but tentative. You sighed as you said, “But I have a better one.”
You surged forward, lips crashing into his as all the pieces in your life seems to fall into place. His hand drifted down to grip at your jaw, holding you steady as he kissed you back with the ferocity of an insatiable man. Your legs, which were practically floating at this point, wrapped around his waist. The arm around your waist shot to your thigh, grabbing there and holding to keep you up and level with him. You smiled into the kiss as he let out a deep rumble, like a growl. The smile turned into a breathless laugh as he kissed the corner of your mouth, moving around your face leaving a trail of much too soft kisses coming from a man like Ghost. A man others considered only capable of violence and fear.
“Simon,” you laughed as he kissed your nose, “you’re an idiot.”
He just hummed as he kissed his way to your chin, and slowly back to your lips. And once he reached his destination, he was slow, languid. You practically melted at the sudden change of pace. The hand at your jaw moved back to your scalp, gently grasping at it making you gasp. The responding smirk on his lips left you even more breathless than you thought you could be.
“Didn’t think you were ticklish.” He said, his voice deeper than ever.
His fingers tugged again, making you smile around another gasp. “And I didn’t think you a romantic.” One of your fingers slowly traced his jaw, then you grabbed his chin as you went back in. He deepened the kiss, drinking your taste with a mixture of the previous hunger and the sensual pace that had your head spinning. Your fingers lazily scratched through his stubble, and through his hair. Unfortunately, you forgot about the cut on the side of his head and ended up dragging over it, making Simon flinch and groan in pain, breaking the kiss.
Your eyes widened as you placed your hand on his vest in horror. “Fuck, you okay?” You muttered as he recollected himself.
“Yeah.” He rasped. “Fuck.”
If you hadn’t been so horrified you would have further melted into his arms at the way he said that. But you were and you slowly unwrapped your legs as he put you down. “Maybe we should sit down.”
He chuckled, meeting your terrified stare as he scratched at his jaw. He smirked as he murmured, “Fucking hell, you look amazing right now.”
Your brought up your pointer finger to his face, looking at him like you were scolding a child. “Don’t, Simon. I’d like to make it through the morning without accidentally killing you.”
“What a way to die.” He said, grinning like a mad man.
“ Simon .” You warned again, this time taking steps back to put some distance between you two. But, everytime you took a step back, he took a step forward. You tried to suppress the smirk that wanted to crawl out—you were trying to be serious. Suddenly, you felt the roof’s barrier wall hit your back. He had once again crowded you against a wall. At this rate you were going to lose your mind. The wind gently tousled both of yours’ hair, his lips were still curled around a grin and they were red and raw. You got mesmerized by the slight flush his face had. Why was he so gorgeous, Jesus Christ .
His hands came up and rested on your hips. “You alright there, sweetheart? Y’seem a bit distracted.”
You huffed as your eyes drifted from his lips back to his eyes. Your eyes lit up with an idea making his own squint with unease at the sudden, frankly evil, look in your eyes. The hand that held his mask slammed on his vest clad chest with a playful smirk.
“Be a good boy and sit down, Simon.”
One of his eyebrows arched as his eyes slightly widened. He grumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch. He took the mask in his hand, taking a step back and winking before slipping it back over his head.
“Now, you go sit over there and I’ll sit here.” You said with a chillingly calm tone. “And we will wait for proper medical attention.”
Ghost chuckled as he watched you slowly slide down the wall you had been pushed against. You crossed your legs and looked up at him with a questioning glare.
“Y’know, I don’t mind a bit of pain.”
You sighed, rubbing your temples tiredly as if you were trying to relieve a headache. “You can’t just say that .”
“Why not?”
“Simon—“
“ Heli approaching in 15. Look alive— ” Soap interrupted. “ If you even are .” He added with a barely restrained annoyed sigh. Ghost lightly chuckled.
”Affirmative. See you on the other side.” Ghost said into his radio.
You huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. You looked back into his eyes, which had never left you. He slowly walked back to you and offered you his hand. You stared at it and back up to his eyes. “Are you going to act like nothing happened when we get back to base?”
“Negative.”
“Good.” You took his hand and let him pull you up. In the distance, you could hear the helicopter make its way to your location. You kept your hand wrapped in his as you looked in the direction of the noise. He called your name softly, making you turn your face back to his, looking up into those beautifully dark eyes. He leaned down until his forehead met yours. Your eyes shuddered closed as you took a deep breath.
As your blood ran down your side and he felt himself get lightheaded again, you both couldn’t have asked for a more perfect moment. Something about love and war and all that rang in your head as you smiled.