𝐄𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

                                    

                                          
The sterile brightness of fluorescent white lights blurred your vision as you slowly opened your eyes. The surroundings gradually came into focus, revealing the clean, clinical environment of a medical facility. An older-looking Spanish nurse approached you with a warm smile. "Good to see you awake," she informed you in a gentle tone. "Ugh, my head," you groaned, feeling the dull ache as you struggled to sit up. The nurse kindly brought you a pill and a cup of water, providing some relief to your dry mouth. As you took the medication, she explained the nature of your injury. "You had a gunshot wound to your lower abdomen. The surgery went well, and we removed the bullet. You're in recovery now, but you'll need some time to heal. Take it easy, and don't rush things," she advised, her words carrying a soothing reassurance.


You glanced down and noticed you were in fresh clothes, though the scent of gunpowder and death still lingered. The nurse caught your gaze, and with a warm smile, she explained, "The soldado in the white mask brought these clothes for you. He insisted on making sure you had something clean to wear." You rolled your eyes and remarked, "He wants to be nice now after what he said to me? Men are confusing." The nurse chuckled and nodded in agreement, "Oh, you have no idea, mija. They often are." 


A soft knock resonated through the room, prompting the nurse to answer it. The door opened, revealing Soap standing there with a turkey sandwich in hand. His eyes met yours as he entered, offering a sheepish smile. "I know it's not much," he began, glancing at the sandwich, "but, you know, I'm not much of a cook like you." "Thanks, Soap. It's perfect," you expressed gratitude as you took the sandwich. He settled on the couch, his posture reflecting a mix of exhaustion and curiosity. Leaning forward, Soap asked, "Why did you do that back there, Serpent? You didn't have to take that hit for me." The question lingered in the air, inviting an explanation for your impulsive act during the mission.



You took a moment, considering how much to reveal. "My dad taught me to be selfless," you began cautiously, almost slipping up and mentioning Price. "It's always been about the mission over yourself, the team over yourself. In the heat of the moment, instincts just kicked in, I guess."  Soap looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. "You're making me feel real bad about how I treated you at first. You saved my life, and one day, I'll save yours in return. That's a promise, Serpent." The weight of his words lingered, a silent understanding forming between you. 



You leaned forward, your expression eager yet cautious. "Is there any hope in the intel? Did we find anything useful?" you asked. Soap sighed, his demeanor becoming more serious. "Laswell believes a lot of it was meant to mislead us. But there were a few documents that revealed where his next location may be." You couldn't help but express your frustration. "Dammit. I got shot for bad intel? Maybe Ghost was right," you muttered, a tinge of annoyance in your voice. "No, don't say that. It was in the moment, and you're alive, and so am I. We didn't know it was gonna be an ambush, nor did we know it was a trap. But it leaves the question: How did they know we were coming and when?" 



 "I'm not sure," you admitted with a sigh, your gaze wandering to the sterile ceiling. "I just hope we find him soon." Soap nodded in understanding, his expression a mirror of shared frustration. As the topic changed, you couldn't shake the curiosity about Ghost's recent actions. "Why did Ghost bring me clothes?" you wondered aloud, confusion evident in your voice. "He's confusing. One minute he's saying he shouldn't have saved me, the next he's bringing clothes." Soap leaned back, his eyes focused on a distant point. "It's just what he does," he explained a hint of understanding in his tone. "Try not to take what he says or does too personally, especially right now. Roach and him were close, and he feels like his death is his fault." 


"Why would he think that?" You asked with genuine curiosity. Soap hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Roach and Ghost were like brothers. They went through a lot together, and when Roach died, Ghost blamed himself. He believes he could've done something differently, saved him somehow." As Soap spoke, you could sense the weight of Ghost's guilt and the pain he carried for losing a comrade. It painted a more human picture of the mysterious soldier who wore a stoic mask. "He's been carrying that burden ever since," Soap continued. "Sometimes, his actions might seem harsh, but it's his way of coping. Bringing you clothes, in his own way, is his attempt at making things right, even if he won't admit it openly."


As you hummed in understanding, Soap mentioned that he had some paperwork to attend to, bidding you goodbye before leaving the room. You were left alone, finishing up the sandwich that Soap had brought. Just as you were wiping your hands, the door creaked open, and in walked Price. His entrance was nothing short of assertive, and his gravelly voice filled the room. "Heard you were awake," he stated matter-of-factly, his expression unreadable. Price, with his distinctively grizzled appearance, surveyed the room before focusing on you. "How are you feeling, Y/N?" You met Price's gaze and managed a faint smile, "As good as one can be after a run-in with a bullet."


He pulled up a chair, its legs scraping against the linoleum, and sat down beside your bed. The worn leather of his gloves creaked as he clasped his hands together, his eyes still fixed on you. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice low and steady, "You did well back there. Taking a hit to save Soap." You nodded, appreciating the acknowledgment. "Just part of the job, like you taught me." Price studied you for a moment, his eyes betraying a depth of experience. "You grew up into such a fine soldier Y/N. I couldn't have wished for a better daughter." The words hung in the air,  your heart grew heavy at the mention of you being his daughter, a heavy silence enveloping the room. Price's expression softened, realizing the weight his statement carried. You felt tears streaming down your cheeks and Price pulled you into a warm embrace. "Was that too much?" He asked and you giggled as you wiped your eyes. "No, it was perfect. I owe you my life Price, you saved me. The only reason I'm here right now is because of you."


"You owe me nothing Y/N. It's enough that I got to see you grow up into the young woman you are today." He gave you a small peck on your forehead and stood up. "Sacrifices are inevitable, but they don't go unnoticed. Soap and the others owe you their lives today. Don't forget that." You nodded and gave a soft smile. 


However, outside the door Ghost stood in the shadows, the dim light casting an eerie glow on his distinctive skull mask. He grappled with the internal conflict of eavesdropping on the private conversation between you and his captain. His instincts, honed through years of covert operations, drove him to seek answers. The knowledge that everything in your files was redacted before five years ago, even your last name, had intrigued Ghost. In the world of covert ops, transparency was a luxury, and hidden motives could be as dangerous as a loaded gun. The nagging suspicion that someone on the inside was leaking information to the enemy lingered in Ghost's mind like a relentless ghost of its own.


"So when can I get out of here? I haven't even slept in my own bed yet." Price returned a wry smile, his mustache twitching ever so slightly. "Tomorrow, but only if you promise to follow the doctor's orders. We can't afford to have one of our best assets compromised because she wanted to sleep in her bed." You chuckled, appreciating the mix of concern and pragmatism in Price's demeanor. "Fair enough. I'll be a model patient." His gaze held a stern yet caring expression. "Good. We can't afford any more setbacks." As he made his way towards the door, he paused and looked back at you. "Get some rest, Serpent. We'll need you in top shape for what comes next." With that, the door closed, leaving you alone in the sterile hospital room with a mix of gratitude for the concern shown and a sense of anticipation for the challenges ahead.


1463 words