Chapter Text
Before they could react, it was upon them both.
It dragged Makarov under, beneath the train to be ground up like meat in a grinder.
Yet even in death that man’s grip on Charlie was strong.
Even aided by adrenaline, and whatever drug was pumped into them, they just couldn’t get out of his grip.
Like a child struggling to stay afloat in the deep end, Charlie was pulled under by their leg. They desperately clawed at the train as they tried to maintain a grip, like a cat tearing up curtains while trying not to fall.
But the pressure yanking them down relieved as a searing pain shot through them, stemming from their thigh up, and somehow, miraculously, somehow they were able to scramble back to the top, almost falling off again as the train bucked, digging their claws in deep just to keep themself alive.
Beside them, a headlight burst from the repeated random jolts of power, setting alight and making Charlie yelp as they clawed up, claws scratching and cracking glass as they tried to hold themself above the fire.
And as they gazed down at the fire, they started to realize just how they had been able to claw themself back up, and why their left leg was in so much pain.
To put it simply, it was gone. Completely torn off just above the knee, the muscle and bone exposed and expelling blood at a terrifyingly fast rate.
It must have been ground up with Makarov, the only thing keeping the rest of them from sharing the same fate was pure adrenaline and their claws.
If they weren’t screaming before, they were now.
They nearly shattered the windshield glass they were clutching onto, and they stared at a figure inside, who was looking up at them in horror, hand hovering over the emergency break.
They were losing so much blood, and absolutely panicking.
It wouldn’t stop.
It wouldn’t stop.
The metal was getting excruciatingly hot, and tears streaked down Charlie’s cheeks in rivers.
Too much blood was gone. There was so much fire. They felt helpless all over again, stuck in a long buried memory made live again.
But on that horrible day, the doctors that took them away used fire on their mangled fingertips to stop them from bleeding.
So in a last ditch, desperate attempt, Charlie pressed their oozing, bloody stump of a leg against the burning hot metal right beside the fire.
But even trying to just barely avoid the licking flames, the pain was unlike anything Charlie ever had experienced before.
Not since the days long ago, but they thought they’d grown stronger.
They hadn’t.
Poor, helpless Charlie still sobbed and screamed like a newborn, yanking their leg away when the pain became all too much, when they felt close to passing out.
They wanted to puke, they wanted to let their body go limp and shrivel. The smell of melted flesh had filled their nostrils, and they looked down.
They’d melted the wound nearly shut, but bits of blood still seeped through.
So while still sobbing, shaking beyond control, they weakly raised their leg to do it again.
Earsplitting screeches filled their ears, making all of their body shrink up, their voice now hoarse from how much they’d been crying out.
Sparks rose up around them as the train began it’s horrible, screeching halt.
And those next fifteen seconds were the longest fifteen seconds in their life.
Even when the train came to a stop, shaking them off, where they rolled down the track, their head still spun.
The train groaned and creaked, and out of terror they crawled away at an agonizing pace, barely pulling themself off of the track.
Every movement felt like hell on earth, and the blood…
Fuck, they were still bleeding.
It was much less than before, but they needed every drop of blood they could get.
Ripping off their sleeve, yanking and tearing until it was detached from their shirt, they tried to tie a tourniquet.
Their work was a lot more sloppy than normal, but Thank god it was doing it’s job for now.
They tried to stand, they tried to get up, but each attempt was only met with failure.
Their terrified sobs grew shaky and weak.
This was it, wasn’t it?
After everything, this was how their story would end.
Helpless, alone, and in pain.
Just like Mama and Papa.
Just like Soap.
Just like everyone they tried and failed to protect.
Seems a fitting end for such a useless dog.
Just give up. The voice of their master whispered.
Close your eyes. Surrender to sleep. A female voice long forgotten.
Just let go.
Oh, how wonderful sleep would feel.
Just close your eyes, let your body rest.
Such a sickeningly sweet offer.
their eyes felt heavy, drooping lower, and lower….
But no.
I refuse . Some part of their mind nearly shouted. I refuse to let myself die.
If only fueled by pure spite and tenacity, they grabbed a piece of debris.
With only a shred of their shattered hope and sanity, they moved.
They needed a hospital, they needed help. So move, just move.
For nineteen hours, they stumbled and crawled.
For nineteen hours, they stayed glued to shadows, terrified.
And in that nineteenth hour, twentieth minute and forty-third second, they saw light.
In that nineteenth hour, forty-fifth minute and fifty-sixth second, a hospital came into view.
In that nineteenth hour, fifty-sixth minute and twenty-third second, they entered the hospital, collapsing.
They could hear feet rushing, people yelling.
They could vaguely hear someone talking to them, patting their face as they were moved, but they couldn’t hear much of anything.
They were so exhausted.
“Stay awake!”
“Doctor…need…!”
“Name? What’s your name?”
They could barely hear any of it.
In their final moments of consciousness, they found their mind drifting to the final family they had known.
Simon Riley. John MacTavish.
And for what may have been their final time, Charlie fell asleep.
*~*~*
Simon fiddled with his phone case, trying to keep his mind and hands busy.
It had been twenty-four hours since he rushed Johnny here.
He was still processing everything.
None of it felt real.
But it never would, would it?
He had the evidence laid out infront of him, Johnny on the bed hooked up to machines and IV’s, and the pictures Gaz had took of the… grotesque remnants of Makarov and Charlie’s bodies.
Even though he hadn’t been the one shot, or hit by a train, Simon knew now more than ever that he was just living on borrowed time.
A harsh kick of a reminder to love what you have, because it’ll be gone before you know it.
Now, with Johnny beside him, he could feel every horrible, wonderful moment.
A knock on the door yanked him from his thoughts, a doctor entering shortly after, holding a clipboard.
“Are you two… John MacTavish and Simon Riley?” The doctor asked to clarify, tapping the tip of his pen against the clipboard.
Confused, Simon nodded, and Johnny gave a small ‘Aye’.
After clearing his throat, the doctor started to speak again. “A patient was admitted, mumbling your names. I assume they’re your child?”
Simon and Johnny looked at each other, then back at the doctor, silently perplexed.
“…blond hair, blue eyes, around 160cm?”
Simon’s body stilled, while Johnny, still high off of the painkillers, muttered ‘i have a child?’
“Where are they?” Simon blurted. The doctor nodded his head to the side. “Follow me.”
Simon passed a worried glance to Johnny, to which Johnny nodded for Simon to go check it out.
Standing up from his seat, Simon followed the doctor out of the hospital room, walking down white corridors with blue room numbers.
And when they reached room 417, the doctor cautiously opened the door, motioning for Simon to step in.
Silently, slowly, Simon entered. Huddled in the farthest corner of the bed, shrinking away from the bright lights, was a familiar, messy blond haired, blue eyed mess.
“Bloody hell..” He muttered, taking in the state of them. They were pale, more so than usual, with heavy bags under their eyes. Their body shook slightly, hair mussed and tangled. They were covered in scratches and bruises, little bandages over various cuts, and covering their right foot.
But most of all, Simon’s eyes were drawn to their left leg. Or rather, the lack there of.
He had no idea what mental state the kid was in, he didn’t even know if they were in control of themself.
So, taking a cautious step forward, Simon made sure to keep his voice gentle. “Charlie..?”
All he got in response from them was a sniffle, tears streaming down their cheeks. They looked like a kicked dog.
And as he took another step, their arms outstretched, their breath hitching in their throat for a moment as sobs broke through.
It was a position he felt all too familiar with with a different, but similar face.
So without hesitation, he stepped forward, and hugged Charlie.
They broke down in his arms, a sobbing, gasping mess, clinging to him like he was the only thing grounding them.
They muttered out a million apologies, begging for forgiveness, choking on their own sobs.
“Hey, hey, breathe. ” He instructed, firm but not harsh. It was a routine he hadn’t used in years, but he slipped into it all the same.
“Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Simon took exaggerated deep breaths, steady as inhaled slowly, paused, and exhaled slowly, hoping they’d follow along.
They trembled and shook in his arms, but slowly, their breaths started to match his, though interrupted occasionally with an shaky breath or quiet sob.
“I’m not angry with you, you’re not in trouble. You’re okay.”
“I couldn’t do it—“ They said, voice weak and shaky. “I couldn’t protect the people I love. I watched Soap die, I—“
“Johnny’s fine.” Simon assured, and he felt them go statue-still. “He’s alive, Charlie. He’s a few rooms over. He’s okay.”
At that, they started to cry harder, but it seemed it was out of pure relief.
“…is this real? ” They muttered, voice barely more than a whisper. “Are you real? Am-am I dreaming?”
“You’re not dreaming. Everything’s okay.” He gave their arm a light pinch to demonstrate the fact, and they gave a soft ‘ow’, a weak chuckle breaking through their sob.
“Do you wanna go see him?” Simon asked, gently pulling away from the hug, and Charlie slowly let him go.
They nodded, sniffling, and wiping their tears with their forearm.
“That’s not advisable—“ the doctor, still standing in the doorway cut in.
Ghost whipped around, staring into the man’s soul, giving him a death glare. He could practically feel him shrivel under his gaze.
“We could… move them into the same room?
*~*~*
It had been a few weeks since Makarov had been confirmed KIA.
Both Johnny and Charlie’s wounds were healing nicely, and while there would be a lot to get used to, with Johnny’s hearing loss and Charlie’s missing leg, they would be okay. The hospital had them set to be discharged in a few days.
Johnny and Charlie were given as much time as they needed to heal—the military couldn’t do shit to them while they were in the hospital—and Price, being the absolute wonderful man he was, along with Laswell’s help, managed to get Simon long periods of leave to look after them.
Johnny and Simon had discussed it a lot, and both agreed on the mutual consensus that as soon as they could, they’d retire together, and settle down in some lone cottage in Scotland. They’d both had their fill of the military. And if they could, they’d drag Charlie along with them. God knows they wouldn’t let the kid loose on the battlefield anymore.
Simon had received word from Price and Gaz that Pável had opened up, and wanting to do what he could to help fix what he’d done wrong under Makarov’s control, he wanted to help fight somewhere aligned with SpecGru. Price heard that Los Vaqueros needed more men to help track down the Cartel, and Pável had been sent on his merry way.
It slipped their minds to teach him Spanish, though. He had to learn on his feet.
The future was daunting. Simon couldn’t lose anyone else.
But right now, sitting in this hospital room, he could let himself relax.
On his right lay his lover, fast asleep, a peaceful smile on his face.
On his left lay Charlie, sleepily gazing out the window and into the night, watching snowflakes lazily drift down.
In the warm, soft light of a lamp across the room, Simon let himself get comfortable in the most cushy chair he could find. He tilted his head back, and with his arms crossed, he closed his eyes, letting out a deep exhale.
And he let himself rest.