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mlmxreader · 5 months

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Can't Let You Go | David Hesh Walker x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Pssst.... what if, hear me out here... I know "I think he's come back for his noon feeding" is from Jaws but!!! It's Y/N feeding people to their beloved that got turned into a zombie because they just CANNOT let go. Beloved in question is Hesh.

Optional but would be very funny if Logan helped capture victims because "It's not too different from hunting deer." and he also can't let Hesh go. The brother in law helps out.

Also optional, but would be interesting if Hesh could somewhat remember things even un-dead. Like Y/N tells him "I love you." and he'll sign it back because muscle memory or some shit. Establish a bit of motive for the whole "Letting my dead boyfriend murder and eat you." thing. - @tokillamockingbird427 ❞

: ̗̀➛ You're the only to blame for what happens to him, yet even still, between you and Logan, nobody can be quite sure who is less willing to part ways with him even though they know they should.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, graphic depictions of corpses, fatal injuries described in detail, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, murder, gun violence

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You blamed yourself for it, more than anything, knowing that the others had done everything that they could whilst you were over with a different task force doing some training; it was your fault that he had gotten that way. Your fault that he turned into a monster.

You should have known that the people they were after would have used the gas; infecting Hesh when he was alone in the control room.

You should have protected him, and look what you had done; he was far from the Hesh you had fallen in love with.

His beautiful, smooth skin was now covered in dried blood, the white cloth he had tried to use to protect himself was melted into his skin and had torn open to expose his fleshless jaw. Hanging on by tendons, dribbles of blood staining the once white fabric.

His skin was grey, pale and thick like a dying scab. Claw marks on his head where he had tried to fight the infection. His right eye was completely gone, melted from his skull and exposing the deep and empty socket; you could see right through to the back of his skull.

Bits of bubbled flesh stuck to his lower eyelid. A hole in the side of his neck where he had tried to kill himself in desperation, blistered flesh around the entry point. His hands were cracked and blistered, skin hanging off in thick scabs constantly, all up to his shoulders.

He could hardly speak, the words sounding more like an imitation of human speech; he sounded human in voice, but the words were just wrong. You had done this. It had all been your fault.

You and Logan knew you couldn’t let him go out on his own, knew that he couldn’t be given up to the US military; you also both knew that you needed Hesh, you needed him around. A life without Hesh… you didn’t want to imagine it, and neither did Logan.

Logan had never been without his big brother, and you had been Hesh’s significant other for so long that you just couldn’t stomach the thought of being without him anymore.

Together, you and Logan took Hesh to a cabin in the woods that you had been left in an inheritance; you put up six foot tall fences made of thick wood with a doggy door that only opened if Riley’s microchip was scanned, and ensured that the rest of the property was littered with barbed wire and traps to make absolutely sure that no one would ever find Hesh.

No cellular phones. No internet. No computers. Never anything that could ever be tracked to the location, not even burner phones.

Nobody else was ever allowed to know; Logan told Elias and Keegan that he was going to see some friends for a while whenever he came to visit Hesh, and you had no one to talk to anyway so you didn’t really need to worry about anyone finding out.

You moved into the cabin, Logan could only ever visit when he could manage to get away. It worked well enough, though, nobody in, nobody out except you and Logan.

If he ever felt like he was being followed, he would immediately drive past the cabin and head down to the local hotel; sign in under his own name, and remain there until it was time for him to go back to Elias’s house.

Never risk anything.

You were both adamant about that.

But every day, even though it always came back the same, you would always check Hesh’s state over and you would always try and clean up some of the wounds; he would sit there patiently, watching you with such softness in his eyes that it was almost hard to believe that he wasn’t fully human anymore.

No heartbeat. No respiratory rate. No reaction to being tapped on the knees or elbows. He didn’t bleed when he got paper cuts from thorns he picked up. He didn’t feel anything when he bumped into objects around the cabin. Never even flinched.

He didn’t sleep. He didn’t produce any bodily fluids like sweat, drool or mucus. He was a rotted corpse, through and through, but he didn’t seem to be rotting even more; like the gas had caused him to decompose up to a certain point and then let him be.

You almost wondered if they did it in hopes of creating soldiers, but you didn’t really care.

Hesh was still mostly himself; still pressed himself to your back when he saw you cooking, still nuzzled into you at night while you slept, still smiled and grinned when he saw you singing and dancing as you put the washing away.

He was still free to roam during the day, though, having access to everything within the six foot tall fence at least; it spanned quite a large area, but you still worried.

You checked every day to make sure that every panel was secure so that he wouldn’t get out and get caught by someone who wouldn’t understand.

Didn’t change the fact that he was always so fucking cold to the touch, though. His fingers always felt like ice, and his lips never failed to make you shiver; it took a while to get used to it when he peppered kisses along your neck like he used to when he came home from deployment.

But like every other being on the planet, Hesh still needed to feed; he still needed to eat, and you and Logan knew what you had to do; you knew that Logan was a skilled hunter, but you still felt bad about asking even though you knew he would agree - you still felt bad about asking him to do such a thing, knowing how much it would hurt you both.

But you had to keep Hesh going, you couldn’t let him fade away, you couldn’t let him leave - neither of you were ready for that, you needed him.

It started out small.

Logan would go hunting in the woods when tourism was slower and there were less people around to notice him going after whatever game there was; he would hunker down, wait for one to become separated from the herd to get lost, and then take the shot when it wasn’t looking.

He made sure to never use his car, and to always be within walking distance; leaving the prey on the small table you had made for Hesh. He would wash his hands of the blood he had spilled, watching Hesh bite chunks from the large carcass, tearing it apart with grunts and growls.

But it was only deer, that was all; it was only ones that ever became separated from the herd, and it was only ones that wouldn’t really be noticed.

“We can’t keep this up,” Logan whispered. “Someone’s gonna find out - I know it’s only… deer. But still.”

You frowned, knowing that he was right. “We need to find a new herd, that’s all… there’s an unmarked, inconspicuous trailer… it’s big enough for a deer or two… and you can attach it to the car. Just say you’re using it to help someone move.”

“And the blood?” Logan asked with a raised brow.

“I’ve got some buck fur,” you admitted. “And antler velvet, a few hooves leftover from old taxidermy - covers it up nicely.”

Logan nodded, pursing his lips as he looked over at Hesh, who was reaching into his chest; the flesh separated easily, a gaping hole of pale grey flesh hanging open like putty, when he heard a crack, Logan growled softly.

“Hesh! No!”

Hesh looked at Riley, then back at Logan, pouting. “Fetch?”

“No!” Logan commanded, huffing loudly. “Not with your own ribs!”

You whirled around, looking at what Hesh had done and sighing heavily. “Oh, baby… come here, let’s get that sorted.”

Hesh looked at you sadly as you examined the open hole. “Bad?”

You shook your head, looking up at him as you sighed and dared to gently kiss his scarred forehead. “You’re not bad, Hesh… you’re okay. You just made a little mistake ‘s all.”

He nodded slowly, sighing. “Miss. Be. Warm.”

Your breath hitched a little as you swallowed thickly. “I know… I know…”

He outstretched his arm, a loud peeling sound coming from the insides of his elbows where the flesh was full of sharp scaps; taking a step forward, he tilted his head down slightly.

Even in death, that fucker still knew how to use the puppy dog eyes with only just one eye, and you couldn’t fucking resist; wrapping your arms around him and letting him snuggle into you as you held him.

It seemed like he couldn’t get enough, trying to keep you as close as he possibly could and trying to get his hands under your clothes; yet he couldn’t feel the warmth against his hands, and he couldn’t tell if his own were getting colder or warmer.

He just knew that he missed the feeling of being warm, and that he missed being able to actually feel you; the sensation of sweating at night because you were snuggled into one another and he was overheating beneath the thick duvet.

You missed the feeling of his warm hands on your body, almost scared to touch him thanks to the ice; it made you feel like a part of you was missing, a chopped off limb. A removed organ. You sighed, your eyes thick with tears as you sniffled, letting him go and gently kissing his cold, cracked lips.

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favour,” you told him, turning away from Hesh.

Logan shrugged. “Sure.”

“Let me borrow your rifle,” you said, voice shaking. “I need to go hunting.”

Logan silently pointed over to where he had left it, and watched as you and Riley left the fenced off area, leaving him alone with his brother. He looked at him, studying his brother's features. He knew that it was still Hesh; when he looked into that sad, singular eye, he could still see his brother trapped within it.

Yet his cheeks were completely gone, the flesh sloughed off long ago during the gas attack, leaving the sides of his jaws hanging on by tendons and strings from the stained cloth. His hands were blistered and bloodied, no longer the calloused hands of his elder brother who used to ruffle his hair when he was upset.

His arms were covered in thick, long scabs just like the scratches across his hairline. His chest was agape, the skin slapping against itself dryly when it caught the slight wind. Of course Logan knew that it was still his brother, it just didn't look like him anymore.

He swallowed thickly, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket and offering one to him; Hesh took it, and put it in his mouth as Logan lit it. The smoke drifting into the hole in his skull where his eye used to be; up close, Logan could see the tunnel all the way to the back of Hesh's skull.

He could see the grey mass of lumpy muscle that should have been pumping and thumping, that should have been light pink and squishy. That should have been a brain. He watched as Hesh took a long drag, but never blew out the smoke again, and he frowned.

In every sense, it was Hesh, Logan knew that, but it was… he was wrong. He was Hesh, but he was wrong. But he was still Hesh, and Logan wasn’t ready to be without him - even if it meant having the wrong one.

He sniffled, daring to look at his brother’s remaining eye as he nodded slowly.

“Dad misses you, y’know,” he said, his voice shaking. “I wish I could bring him here, but… it’d hurt him… but he still talks about you all the time like you’re… still here.”

Hesh nodded. “Still here.”

“You were my big brother,” Logan started, tears in his eyes and his voice falling apart with every syllable that left his mouth.

He wished he could have had more time, he wished he could have even though he knew that he would never.

Still, he cleared his throat, and he dared to continue despite his voice giving out, “you protected me, you taught me how to do all the shit Dad wouldn’t - how to smoke, how to drink, how to misbehave, how to sneak into pubs without ID… and I’m lost without you. I was never… I never wanted to… to be alive without you, man. You were always meant to be there for me, you promised.”

Hesh frowned. “Still here… still brother.”

“I know,” Logan whispered, taking a shaky drag from his cigarette. “But you’re not… you’re not you… you’re not… you’re not alive anymore, and I… I can’t let you go because I can’t picture a life without my big brother.”

“Love,” Hesh growled out, his hands signing the words. Muscle memory. “Love you.”

A sob left Logan as he whimpered and did his best to steady himself. “I love you, too.”

Riley was crouched in the bush next to you, sniffing the air as you steadied Logan’s rifle, hunkered down, you used leaves to pad the gun so that it was even more silenced, and with the commotion from all the lorries nearby, nobody would ever hear a thing.

You had your eyes on the prey, and so did the dog beside you, ready to pounce if you needed him to; you watched as your prey took a few steps forward, right into your sites, and then you pulled the trigger.

It reached up to grab its neck, suddenly slumping to the side and twitching violently; you pulled the trigger again, and this time, an orange spray rained through the woods, and you could easily see that part of the head was missing.

It was done.

Riley ran over, sniffing it and making sure that it was dead before he sat down, waiting for you to come collect your prize; you sighed, grabbing the ankle and trying to ignore the bits of metal slapping your hand as you dragged it.

Riley was the first to go back, while you followed behind shortly after. The dog was happy, but as you hauled your prize onto the slaughter table, you couldn’t help but to feel slightly empty.

Usually, hunting helped you to clear your mind, but… not this time.

Logan came over, Hesh following behind him, and he looked at what you had managed to get. “Good eating.”

You nodded, removing a boot and tossing it aside with a pile of others. Logan helped you to remove the coat, hat, scarf, gloves, shirt, trousers and underwear in total silence. “Check the coat for a wallet, same with the trousers.”

Logan nodded curtly, heading over to the clothing pile that was steadily starting to pile up against the fence. “On it.”

Hesh stood on the other side of the table, watching as you grabbed a knife. He brought his hands up, and smiled, daring to slowly sign four words: “you are my sunshine.”

You looked at him, and sniffled as you nodded. “My only sunshine.”

“You make happy,” Hesh told you, then pointed at the grey skies. “Even when.”

You couldn’t believe that he still remembered that song, the one you used to sing in the car together when he picked you up for date nights; the one that he was going to sing at your wedding. You wanted to sob, but nodded slowly as you swallowed thickly, watching him head over to his little food table.

You whistled at Logan, and pointed over. “I think he’s come back for his noon feeding.”

Logan nodded, daring to come over and aid you with chopping up the limbs and removing flesh from bone. “Is it wrong I still love him?”

You shook your head, daring to meet his gaze even though your own was teary. “No, because I still do, too… I know… I know he’s not our Hesh, but…”

“But you can’t imagine a life without him,” Logan whispered, picking up a pile of goopy, dripping flesh as he cleared his throat. “Nor me.”

You continued to grab what meat you could while Logan put what was done on Hesh’s table.

Immediately, he gathered up as much as he could in his hands, blood dripping from between his grey fingertips and staining his skin harshly.

He bit into it, a loud squelch echoing all around as he started to rip it apart; Logan could see the bits of flesh moving in his mouth through the holes in his cheeks, and was almost sick at the sight.

Still, he went back and picked up some more meat from your table before giving it to Hesh.

“We need to burn all of this,” you told him, nodding at the piles of clothes and mouldy bones. “Or at least bury it.”

Logan nodded in agreement. “You got a shovel?”

“Back room in the cabin,” you told him, clearing your throat. “Logan?”

He hummed as he looked back at you.

“You’re the best brother-in-law I could ask for,” you told him sincerely. “Thank you.”

Hesh got up as Logan walked away, dragging himself over to where you were and planting his hands on the table as he glared at you, tilting his head to the side. “Love… love you… my… sunshine.”

He looked pleased with himself, and you just couldn’t help it, grinning as you nodded eagerly. “I love you, too, baby… go eat, you need it. We’ll have more for you tomorrow, alright?”

Hesh nodded, extending his hand and showing you what he had in it, gesturing for you to take some. “Eat.”

You looked at the boneless fingers, and you smiled. “Maybe in a minute, I gotta get all this cleaned up.”

Hesh left them on the table, nudging them your way. “Eat. Love.”

You sighed, licking your lips. “In a minute, I promise.”

He frowned, but reluctantly slunk back to his table; you weren’t really sure what to do, whether to engage in what could only be described as polite cannibalism, or to wait until Hesh was too busy to notice you throw them away.

But you supposed, you deserved such a torment; it was all your fault that Hesh had become what he did, and you knew that you could not change that even if you did your best.

You knew that you deserved such torment for letting him die, for not being able to save the man you loved so much.

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yooo-lets-go · 5 months

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I beg of you, I need more of your COD Ghosts content!! I love your art so much. (And I’d love to see your take on what you think Logan looks like)

Keegan did, in fact, fuck his brother 😔

#call of duty #keegan p russ #logan walker #david hesh walker #riley the dog #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #cod keegan #cod logan #cod hesh #cod riley #keegan x logan

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pampanope · 7 months

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‘09 Ghost, on his way to mw2 reboot, makes a pit stop reincarnation in Ghosts as good boy Riley

#this is just crack #simon ghost riley #logan walker #david hesh walker #riley cod #call of duty #mwii2009 #call of duty ghosts #my stuff

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ghouljams · 2 months

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Hesh. I need my teddy bear man under me👹

-maus🐭

Some days he comes in from the pasture tired as a dog and when you climb into bed next to him he mumbles out apologies for not taking care of you. It makes your heart ache, you can't help smiling at this silly man. He never asks you for much, settled firmly that a man should take care of his wife. You asked him about it once and he told you it was rude to ask a woman for certain things. Silly.

You kiss his cheek, his neck, push your fingers under your skirt to tug your panties down and kick them off the bed. You know Hesh has trouble sleeping, even when he's bone tired, and he deserves to nap a bit before dinner.

"Let me take care of you," you murmur, tossing your leg over his hips to settle on his lap.

Hesh hums, raises his hands to hold your hips with a smile and a, "saddle up mama" that makes your stomach flip. You're quick to open his jeans and pull his cock free, already starting to harden at your attention. He always watches you with rapt devotion, never looks away from your face even when your finger are pumping his cock. He's so enamored with the way you look at him, the way you coo down at him and tell him all the pretty things you never have the mind to when he fucks you.

"You're so good to me David," you tell him when you finally line up his cock with your dripping cunt. Hearing his name always makes him blush; you wish you could see the way it trails down his chest, but you'd been a little too busy to get him undressed. "I love you so much baby," you coo, your voice jumps, breath hitching as you slide down his length. He's big, and without the usual prep you can feel every inch of him.

Your eyes roll back as you settle in his lap, your pussy fluttering around his dick. Every inch fills you, splitting you open like no one but him has. The burn of it is wonderful. You lean to settle your hands on Hesh's chest, feel his breathing coming quick, his heart hammering against his ribs. You raise up onto your knees and enjoy the way his veins cock drags against your walls. He's lovely, the way he tips his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as he swallows thickly. It makes you wish he let himself fall apart more often, that he'd ask for this when he needs it.

You grind your hips down against his lap, enjoy the bump of his cock against your sweet spot until you can't take it anymore, then you raise up and fuck yourself back on him. His moans are almost as desperate as the whimpers you let out, determined to keep hitting that spot that makes your stomach jump. He's polite letting you take care of yourself, letting you take what you need, fuck him however feels good. Eventually though you freeze on his cock, feel yourself snap loose and shake over him as you come.

His hands pull you down against his chest, kissing your cheek and coaxing you, "raise up a bit sweetheart." When you do he plants his feet on the mattress and fucks up into you, driving you back to the edge as quickly as he's trying to bring himself over it. You sink your teeth into his clothed shoulder and whine, hear him panting out praises against your ear. He floods your cunt with come just as your second orgasm rips through you, everything hot and wet, dripping out of you and down over his cock.

Hesh settles heavy against the mattress for a man already laying down and you gingerly remove yourself from his hold to go clean up. When you come back to snuggle he's out cold. You smile to yourself and kiss his cheek before flicking the lights off.

You'll wake him up when dinner is ready.

#cod x reader #x reader #david walker #david hesh walker #hesh walker #hesh walker cod #hesh cod #hesh ghosts #hesh x reader #david walker x reader #f!reader

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months

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it IS funny to me that we collectively decided keegan is THE meanest, most fuckable, most viscera-soaked dirt-caked bitch in cod ghosts. and while i do agree, keegs is absolutely not the main character of his own game (it's hesh, with silent player character logan and keegan's boss merrick as secondary protags) and even fucking tvtopes roasts keegan's ass for having zero ascertainable personality:

keegan exists because the devs realized they couldn't show the first-person player character assassinating people from the shadows, but they could still serve us some good fucking food by handing a knife and night vision goggles to the scrunkliest freak on the recon team.

#and i would rail him all night. to be clear #mine #snippet #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod ghosts #keegan #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #keegan p russ x reader #keegan p russ x you #logan walker #hesh walker #thomas merrick

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antomatkoen · 18 days

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erm guys i was looking for ingredients for my soup and….i found this weird thing in a pit.. does anyone know what it is?

#call of duty #cod ghosts #logan walker #call of duty ghosts #hesh walker #cod keegan #keegan p russ #cod rorke #kick cod #ajax

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2kiran · 6 months

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if your requests are still open ,,,, keegan/soap dumbification, exhibitionist and dacryphilia?

◜ᐢ..ᐢ◝ ᶻz ➜ something a little repair can fix.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 pairing ☆ keegan p russ x dom!m!reader ˖ ࣪ ˖ cw ıllı bratty!keegan. dumbification. exhibitionism kink. sex against a window. name calling ( slut ). dacryphilia. ⪩⭔⪨

“Is that all you can do?”

Every letter that Keegan uttered has done nothing to ease your agitated veins. A challenge; is a way you’ve seen it. He’s been challenging you, testing your patience that’s already been broken down. He was a brat and very self-aware. He went out of his way merely to poke at you — to anger you into giving him what he wants.

And you were. Really, each pleasured moan erupting from his throat was a token for your ego. Your grip on his hips was an anchor, keeping him in place as your cock gradually drilled into his desperate hole. It was almost passionate, but both of you knew it was distant from that. Keegan whined, not quite a plea.

“Use your words.”

“Plea–aah!” he gasped, hands planted hard on the window he was against. Keegan’s cheek pressed into the glass, his own cock throbbing from the coldness. “Repeat.” you click your tongue when he doesn’t respond quick enough for your taste, “Aw, what’s wrong? Have I fucked you dumb already?” He shook his head. Slut.

“Then say it. What do you want?” A particular grind of yours sent his knees to buckle, “Wan’– wan’ you to fuck me.” he whispers, bashfully. “I already am.” His sigh becomes a moan when your tip grazes that spot inside of him. His cheeks flush of embarrassment and shame, his stubbornness refusing to simply ask for the pleasure he seeks. The street this evening was busy, the flash of red on the stoplight causing moments of traffic. If anyone were to look up right now, they’d meet Keegan’s eyes. You knew he liked that thought. “What would these people think?” you ask, rather rhetorically.

“A slut who can’t even ask for what he wants.” you answer your own question, panting beside his ear that he hears well enough for more pre to leak from his tip. You suddenly take his cock in hand, making him squeal from the warmth of your palm. “Shiit. Yes! C’mon, harder,” he whimpers when you press down on his slit, cock pulsing due to your touch. You hear a sniffle.

“Fuck. Are you crying?” there wasn’t any concern in your tone, no, you only laughed at him.

He was, tears streaming down his pretty face like his eyes were a river of desperation. “What happened, baby? Don’t want it anymore?”

“No! Please, don’t stop. Please, ‘m sorry,” he abruptly clenches around you, his voice wobbly, “Harder. I want you to fuck me ha–angh!” your hips repositioned themselves and bullied your cock into his squeezing entrance. Taking you in like he was fucking made for it.

His tears impossibly complimented him even more, his mouth blessing you with high-pitched whines after the other. Your tip brushes against his prostate as his breath fogged up the window. A small part, maybe larger than you think, of you wished someone saw how he was right now. Perhaps, someone did. You wouldn’t know. Did they take a picture of him? Did they like the view?

Maybe.

Maybe Hesh did.

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 CONTINUATION

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shoukiko · 5 months

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CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR CoD GHOSTS

Hey guys, just finished Call of Duty: Ghosts. I just gotta say

Fuck Activision, first you kill my wife, now when I'm on my redemption arc you take away my other wife....At least Keegan is still alive....nothing can take my pookie

#cod ghosts #cod keegan #cod logan #call of duty ghosts #call of duty #keegan p russ #logan walker #david walker #hesh #hesh ghosts #hesh cod

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5k!!! Ok ok, hear me out on this request because I think it might make a good little fic. I can’t decide between Hesh or Price for this one but I got a general idea: stoned Hesh or Price. You know those videos of husbands waking up from surgery and not recognizing their wife right away but knowing they’re the most beautiful person in the world (something like this: https://youtu.be/kV8KyeApBJY). Well maybe it’s something like he got hurt from a mission (hurt enough to require drugs/anesthesia for the plot) but is recovering back at base and imagine their wife is their medic and she’s trying to update his team on how he’s recovering and you just got a stoned Hesh or Price completely hopped up on drugs following his injury, just fawning over her and he just goes bananas when she “reveals” they’re married. The team got a kick out of it

—Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰��➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

You walked around the room, tidying up what you could if only for the simple fact that it could distract you from the unconscious body in the bed. Realistically as a medic, you knew he would be fine—he was in the best hands possible—but Hesh had a track record for being unpredictable.

He’d gotten into some trouble out in No Man’s Land again. Broken arm and ribs; a bullet through his thigh. He was so pumped full of medication and anesthetics from surgery that you doubted that he would be waking up soon.

But then again, Hesh was always surprising you. It was one of the reasons you’d married him, after all. Never a dull day.

Elias’s voice calls from the doorway.

“You’re going to fall over at this rate,” you blink quickly, turning with an extra blanket in hand to spread around your husband’s comatose state.

Your father-in-law has his arms crossed, and Logan slinks his way through the doorway with an arm looping your shoulders, a head pushed into your scalp silently. You sigh deeply, tension that you hadn’t realized was on your face lessening.

“Only if he keeps me from seeing those greens of his.”

Logan huffs a laugh, squeezing you as his father grunts—the stern man’s eyes softening in a way they only would for you and his boys.

“He’d be more worried about you than himself if you did. Put my mind at ease, okay?” Your eyes roll but you nod with a small smile. You don’t argue with his point in the slightest.

So, that was how you ended up here, in a seat by Hesh’s hospital bed—your hand in his and your head nodding back and forth with fatigue. Elias and Logan are casually playing a game of chess from across the room when David’s eyes flutter; his mouth releasing a low groan.

Your lids snap back, spine straightening, but before you can get a word out, your husband is pulling his hand from yours. His green eyes are loopy, pupils blown wide.

He mutters something under his breath, lips grimacing and face pulling in at the sight of you.

“Hesh?” The two men stand as you check his vitals, heart hammering until there’s nothing out of the ordinary and you can sit back down with a sigh and a relieved smile. “Take it easy, alright? You got out of surgery a little while ago—everyone’s here for you—”

“W…Where’s my wife?” His words slur, jaw loose as he rotates it; the unbroken arm with an IV chord stuck in it raises as jerky digits rub at his eyes. You’re left at a loss, blinking slowly in confusion before sharing looks with your in-laws. “No offense, Miss, you’re pretty and all, but…shit, why’s everything spinning?”

A hand covers your mouth, heated embarrassment lighting inside of your veins.

“Hesh, Sweetheart,” your arm reaches to the brunette, trying to grab his wrist that he weakly moves away.

“Stay away from me,” he grunts, head limply lulling on its pillow. “Thought I told you to keep it to yourself. My Wife’ll rip,” Hesh’s voice fizzles, a loud yawn peeling his bandaged face back, “you to pieces.” A pause. You hear Logan trying to hide his loud laughter behind his lips. “Did…the doctor send you?”

Your body turns to Elias, face beaming and expression exasperated.

“Now that he’s awake will you get the other three? It’ll be easier to give the news to all of you at once.”

“Already commed ‘em,” the man states, watching his eldest with a raised brow and a slow smirk. “Least we know he’s a loose cannon on anesthesia.”

Merrick, Keegan, and Ajax all file in, and as you continue to watch over a loopy Hesh, his small noises and babbling continue even when you give the breakdown of the patient sheet. You stand just shy of brushing the bed’s lower frame. You won’t lie and say it isn’t hilarious.

“He needs to keep out of the field for at least two and a half months, boys, and I’m not joking about that, alright?”

Your husband’s slow voice slashes through your speech, and the rest of the Ghosts snicker, sharing knowing looks as Hesh tries to lift the hand currently wrapped to his chest to keep it still. “You’re a real beautiful lady, Doll, y’know that? I’m sorry you like me so much, but I love my wife, you hear? Please don’t be angry with me.”

“Hesh, Darling,” you walk closer and bend down carefully. He blinked owlishly at you, finger coming up to poke at your cheek. Your hand grabs his as you hear Ajax make a quick remark to Keegan about the man being ‘totally whipped even when he’s high.’

“David, hey,” your voice prompts him to smile, perhaps now only realizing the familiarity of it. “I’m going to tell you something, hm?”

“Okay,” he watches, petting your neck with his thumb.

“I am your wife.” The man’s eyes widen comedically as everyone shares a long laugh with one another.

“No way,” Hesh breathes after a moment, awe-stricken. “Really?”

“Really.” There’s a moment of silence, and then the heart monitor begins to pick up its pace to a fast pound. Your face goes hot with love, and you bend your head forward in a long and honest laugh into his shoulder.

Green eyes shift to the men, and Hesh beams, cheeks red and heart racing as he slurs out, “This is my wife?!”

It was safe to say they were never going to let him forget about this.

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