renegadecantlife - Tumblr blog

renegadecantlife · 6 months

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When I tell you, you've nearly had me cry in school in the middle of class like 3 times now- pup finally has her plushiiii ;w; pup deserves all the good things in life

Reign down on me - Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt

-🐺-

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, mutt?”

Your breaths were coming in hard pants, your body was worn to shreds. It took everything in you to look up at the angry face above, and when you finally mustered enough strength to tilt your head, you were met with deeply disapproving eyes. For once they didn’t rattle you, you’d already seen something so much worse.

“She’s dead,” you murmured, looking back down at the empty eyed body across from you.

“And you’re about to be too if you don’t get yourself together, stupid dog!”

You’d been yanked up and forced to keep running, shoved out in front of corners and into oncoming fire. It was a miracle you hadn’t joined your old teammate on the floor - not that you really saw it that way. You drew the enemy’s fire and allowed your current handler to get to exfil unharmed, you in your sorry hollow state had been shot in the chest, or the vest rather. Either way you were terribly struggling to breathe when you were eventually lugged along into the helicopter.

It was difficult to remember much in the days after that. Your memory was a blurry haze, tugged along and shoved into transport and various different rooms until you were abandoned in an infirmary to heal.

The main thing you remember is how the tiger girl you’d been fighting alongside had fallen, and no one else had batted an eye. She had been one of the best hybrids you’d worked with, someone the soldiers had clamoured to get onto your team, and none of them gave a shit when she’d died. The same girl that had so earnestly been teaching you and given you valuable advice for the field was no more than a few hazily remembered lessons and an empty vessel.

The thought burned in your mind when you’d laid on the hospital bed, keeping your eyes narrowed to tiny slits and your tail twitching as you recovered. You’d been too young to actually be assigned to a combat mission, but you’d been sent along with the unit that day because they thought they were doing a routine water run to a nearby village and they’d wanted you to observe.

Now you were marred with your first battle scar and laden with the knowledge that it didn’t matter how good you did - you’d be nothing more than a pile of bones left behind to rot.

“Move along, mutt!”

Maddox loomed over you and smacked you with his club, sending you sprawling as you refused to run his training drill. You’d since recovered and been cleared for work once more, but that was just what the doctors said. You had a different opinion entirely.

“I’m not doing this,” you said quietly, hefting yourself back up to a standing position.

“What?” Maddox’s voice came through in a chilling growl.

The sounds of the rest of the hybrid’s running the training exercise he’d set echoed all around you. You watched them scrambling around, flying through the course like clay pigeons, and blinked slowly. They were all just training to be better canon fodder. What was the point? You were all going to meet the same end, whether you died honourably fighting or were shot down into a pink mist from where you stood, no matter how good any of you were it wouldn’t matter. You’d all just die anyway.

“You heard me,” you growled, puppy voice still too young to actually have much of an impact.

Maddox wasn’t used to being defied. From day one you’d all tried to do what you could to appease him, had run around trying to make sure you weren’t drawing his ire. None of you liked his horrible booming voice when he scrambled at you, you were all afraid of his club and being at the receiving end of one of his thrashings. What was the point?

He looked incensed, he was the most angry you’d ever seen him. He smacked you a few more times, landing heavy blows onto your back, thighs and butt, but you weren’t anymore motivated to get going. Instead you lay uselessly on the ground and cried out, ears drawing back as you prepared for his worst.

“Get the fuck up! Do as you’re told, dog, no exceptions. Now move!”

You whined, but stayed where you were. Even while your back was on fire, even while he still beat dents into you, you didn’t feel anymore convinced to go along with any of it anymore. You just wanted to give up. To stop having to live through the pain, and just accept that it would be all there was.

In the back of your mind you registered that everyone had stopped running, could feel the ground stop rumbling with their desperate footsteps and had all stopped to watch the spectacle. Though you didn’t really think much about it.

It took a few more blows, but eventually Maddox seemed to recognise that you were quite happy for him to mash you into a fine pulp. His lesson wasn’t having any effect. So he left you on the ground and walked away a few paces, his shadow falling over your face and draping you with the weight of it.

You choked out a sob and watched as he addressed the room. His words weren’t immediately intelligible to you, you were too lost in your brain fog still. Everything was dull, and noises were like far away recordings playing on scratchy speakers. Your head was a swelling water balloon fit to burst.

“-see what happens when you decide you’re not going to do what your commanding officer tells you.”

Thwack.

You heard the sound, but you didn’t feel anything. You tilted your head, ears twitching confusedly as you tried to work out why the pain didn’t reach you. The sound of the wailing banshee scream following soon after clued you into why your bones weren’t rattling with anymore pain.

“Please, sir! Please!”

It was like a plastic sheet had been melted from your eyes. The white hot screech of the voice burned through you and you scrambled up with a shock, watching on with horror as one of your fellow hybrids was getting whacked like nothing else. A wheezing breath gushed in through your lungs and you screamed in unison with the poor boy, begging Maddox to please stop.

“Oh now you’re willing to plead for forgiveness? Now you’re ready to participate again? Watch and let this be a lesson - You don’t decide when you’re done! You do as you’re fucking told!”

“No! Please, no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sir. Please, please ple-”

-🐺-

“Hey, Pup, hey, shhh. Wake up, Pup.”

You felt raw, throat vibrating with the last of your unconscious screams, your mind raced as you struggled to register your surroundings. Soft lamplight bathed the room in a warm, hazy glow, and all around you were rumpled blankets, all thrown around the place in splatters of blue as if a tower of paint cans had exploded. Most startling of all though, was the behemoth of a man right in front of you; sitting on your bed and looking down at you with a worried expression.

You backed away to the wall when you finally noticed him, panting and growling like hell when you searched through your bleary mind and couldn’t recognise him. His eyes were like molten gems, his long face and pouting lips drawn into a picture of concern. There was something almost familiar about him, if you squinted and ignored the shock of blonde hair that gently curled on top of his head (something told you that you weren’t used to seeing that). The only thing that stopped you from jumping him immediately was the calming scent of citrus peels.

“Who the fuck are you?” you growled, curling your hands into fists. “What do you want with me?”

The man blinked slowly, his eyebrows raising from the gentle frown he’d been wearing and twitching up into surprise. He smiled uneasily then, the look seeming foreign on that big scarred up face, one of the scars at his lips puckered with the effort it took to move over the muscle.

“Shit, sorry. It’s me, it’s Ghost,” the man sighed, his accent washing over you like a warm wave. “Forgot my mask.”

You gasped, feeling all your muscles release their tension at once as you slid down the wall and into a weary slump. It was ok. He wasn’t some horrible soldier come to drag you away to a new mission, or an enemy looking to startle you before they bagged a kill. It was just Ghost, and Ghost was safe. And Ghost looked… well you were too tired to really get a solid grip on what you thought of how Ghost looked.

“What are you doing in here?” you asked, only speaking when you were confident you wouldn’t stutter.

“You were screamin’, Pup. You looked like you were fighting off possession or somethin’, that must’ve been some bad dream you were having,” Ghost said softly, gently running a hand over the top of your dewy head.

You gritted your teeth and used the butt of your palms to wipe the stray tears from your cheeks, still feeling your throat burn from all the shrieking. It had been a long time since you’d had one of those dreams, or rather memories, but you knew well enough you’d have been loud. You realised you’d probably woken him if he was coming to you bare faced.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, tail tucking between your legs in realisation.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, bringing his hand down to stroke over your cheek. “I’ve woken up with plenty of those myself.”

“But you…you’ve shown your face to me when you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” you sighed, looking away guiltily.

Your toes curled and your body froze up, your instincts gone haywire as you tried to process what was happening. Was he going to punish you now? Would he beat you until you forgot what he looked like? You shuddered at the thought of your dreams piercing through into reality.

“No, don’t be sorry, darlin’. I’d have taken it off for you sooner or later anyway,” he shrugged.

You bit your lip, unconvinced that this was the case. Given that his team didn’t think much of the mask, it was clear that he wore it often. He probably didn’t like to be bare faced around other people. Maybe he wanted to keep his face a secret.

“Didn’t think it’d effect you this much,” he chuckled, chucking you under your chin. “I did warn you.”

“You warned me?”

“Mhmm. Told you I was bloody handsome.”

Nothing could help the snort that burst from your nose. That then descended into full blown laughter, your body lightening from the growing load that your mind posed. You wrapped your hands round your knees, in an attempt to contain the giggles, and only stopped when you saw the gentle smile that sprouted back onto Ghost’s lips.

“There you go. Better now, huh?”

You nodded slowly and smiled back at him. For some reason mirroring him felt like the easiest thing in the world. It was like a warm glow had burst from him to you, softening your sharp thoughts and turning your body to jelly. You’d be able to sleep again as if nothing had woken you, usually you would stay up until light broke through your curtains.

“You wanna talk about anything before I get back to my beauty rest?”

“No, I’m good,” you said hurriedly, not wanting to relive everything you’d dreamed again.

“Alright then…You get back to sleep, you’ve got another big day ahead. Try not to scare the piss out of me again for another few hours at least,” He sighed.

You nodded, scooting back over so that you could lie back at the head of your bed. However before you could angle yourself down, Ghost drew you into a side hug. At first you resisted it, curled your hands around his arm so that you could stop whatever harm might come your way, but when there was none. Your eyes grew heavier as he held you, his body heat seeped down into your bones and it tempted you ever deeper into the restful darkness.

You let your hands drop and nuzzled into him. There wasn’t anything to fear.

“S’my good, Pup,” Ghost mumbled, releasing you seconds later.

You sank into bed afterwards, falling into a deep sleep as if a switch had been flicked. There were no more disturbances after that.

-🐺-

“Not so hard, Steamin’ Jesus!”

Soap’s whizzed right past your ears like a bullet, you were too focused on getting to the target point. Paintballs splattered overhead, loud noises rang out from the speakers that’d been set up, and your heart was racing. Everything perfectly combined to drive you wild and send all coherent thought elsewhere. The only reason you stayed put behind your current cover was because you knew Ghost was watching - because of some foreign underlying need to make him proud.

“Johnny, you have to take control.”

“I’m fuckin’ tryin’! Your bloody sled dog has other ideas,” Soap huffed, growling down the line.

Ghost’s chuckle rattled around the comms like a swarm of bats. The ever present hand on the front of your neck dug into your collarbone a little, but still you persisted and pushed forward through the resistance. Soap had no idea what he was doing, had no idea how to control your advancement through the fake field.

“Sled dog tendencies aside, you’re not holding em’ right,” Ghost chastised. “Stop the exercise!”

The splat of the last paintball echoed dully around the room and all at once your more human senses returned. The sharp fuzz in your ears dissipated and the blurring at the edge of your peripheries came staggeringly back into focus. You almost sent Soap crashing when you stopped fighting his hold, though luckily for him he swivelled just in time to keep his feet on solid ground.

“Fuckin’ here we go,” Soap muttered, releasing your collar.

You frowned up at him in question, but you didn’t get an opportunity to wonder what he was so pissed about. Ghost jumped into the little arena he’d created and crossed the floor, patting your vest before he took a hold of you himself.

“You’re holdin’ Pup round the front like this,” Ghost said, sliding his hand around your collar to illustrate his point. “You’re just choking them and driving them forward to get away from ya’ or get to the checkpoint.”

“Because your precious little Angel keep’s growlin’ and turnin round when I hold the collar round the back like you do. I feel like I’m about to get my face rearranged again!”

Ghost sighed and put his hand on Soap’s arm, driving the other man to give a cursory glance down at you before fixing a hard look on the Lieutenant. There was no mistaking the sharp little shake of his head he gave, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Ghost put his hand down, holding it up in mock surrender before it fell completely.

“It’s because you’re holding on too tight, Johnny,” Ghost explained, his voice growing softer. “You don’t have to. Pup won’t hurt you.”

“You sure about that?”

“Johnny,” Ghost growled. “Don’t say anything stupid, now.”

You looked up, alarmed at the tone Ghost was taking. You didn’t really blame Soap, or anyone else, for being afraid of you. A lot of people were - anyone who knew your reputation at least, and from that little comment you surmised that Soap was well aware of it. Though from the way Ghost was acting, it was as if Soap had told him he was going to shoot you. His eyes were stuck in a stormy glare and his full height was rigidly stretching up over the Sergeant.

“You know this is difficult for me,” Soap said, jaw as taught as a piano wire.

“I know…” Ghost sighed. “But it’ll only be harder if you keep going like this, learning to control a wolf the wrong way will only get you both hurt. You’ve gotta dig deep here, push past the bad memories. This one’ll never hurt you like that.”

“So you keep saying,” Soap grumbled. “Why don’t you try tellin’ them to fuckin’ behave when they’re being handled rather’n having a go at me.”

A creeping feeling of shame crept through your mind, suddenly you felt like a very small child in the middle of a fight between your parents. The tiny little voice you hadn’t heard in so long chimed just as true as it did then, They’re fighting about me again. Your ears folded back straight against your head and you leaned closer into Ghost, accidentally catching eyes with Soap as he registered your movement.

Soap’s eyes softened.

“It’s not that simple. I have a plan in the works though,” Ghost said carefully, shifting his gaze to you as he felt you press against him, and then back at Soap. “It’s gonna take a bit to undo years of shit training, yeah? I told you how it’d be before, those shitheads at Branhaven always train up hybrids to look as showy as possible for their superiors. That means they pull like crazy and bark and growl up a riot while they work because it looks effective and scary to the knobheads who don’t need to handle them. I need you all to learn how to handle Pup as they are now before I’ve worked with them, and then you’ll be prepared for anything…’sides, its always you n me together, Johnny, remember? Realistically you’re not gonna have to actually handle them on the field, you just need to be prepared to.”

The ‘Just in case’ that eluded his last sentence was silent.

The whole time you couldn’t help dwelling on the fact that Ghost was unusually…tender for a man in charge over the Sergeant. Normally when people bitched at the higher ups in your base they’d be shouted at and told to man up or fuck off. Ghost was actually explaining himself to Soap, trying to rationalise what he was doing as if he somehow owed it to him. He treated Soap like he treated you, ensuring he was able to calm down and trying to fill him in so he could take comfort in knowing what was happening.

The treatment seemed to work just as well on Soap as it did you. He huffed out a defeated breath and relaxed, looking from you to Ghost while the irate cloud above him dispersed and became lost in the gentle atmosphere.

“Fine. Can you show me what to do again?”

“Atta boy,” Ghost said, grin evident in his voice. “Hand here, and legs nice and stable. You need to keep moving forward at a nice even pace, you have to set the right speed. Soon as Pup tries to push on ahead, you grip the back of their neck like that.”

You growled as you felt Ghost put pressure on your scruff, instinctively feeling the work drive build up within you. He just shook his head and gave you an unamused stare for your efforts.

“The growling’s all just noise. Stupid noise,” Ghost said, intentionally setting his eyes on you, “but there’s no intention of threat behind it - not while we’re in charge.”

“What do you mean ‘not while we’re in charge’?” Soap asked, making a face.

“Pup won’t have any reason to hurt us. We’re not gonna go yanking tails and hitting like fuckin’ children when we don’t get our way.”

“Wh- y’mean that was a commanding officer that did that?” Soap asked, motioning to your crooked tail.

“Like I said - shit training. C’mon, take the collar.”

Soap didn’t quite look like he’d recovered from the shock of being told about your tail. He gingerly reached out and took your collar with a frown set heavily into his face. You wondered if it was because he really pitied you that much, or if it was because he thought you might take out your anger on him. You leaned more toward the latter reasoning. Despite his reservations though, he was able to do as Ghost asked this time.

“Good, that’s it, Johnny.”

Soap visibly puffed up from the praise. His grip on you tightened. He was more sure of himself now, he marched ahead and set you into an even pace, the rhythm catching onto your feet contagiously. Naturally there were still a few moments where you wanted to pull forward and rush through, but now that Soap was placing his trust in Ghost’s intuition, you were gently guided into keeping within his step.

“Good Pup, keep it up!”

Soap didn’t immediately latch onto what Ghost had told him about your growling, he still wrenched himself back a few times after correcting you. The horrible tractor-like sound would comically twist his features. However this time, he was actually able to get to the checkpoint with you. Then after a few more trials, you were both flying down the course, high on Ghost’s praises and untouched by any paintball that tried to come your way.

After the fourth time he called for a break, roughly crossing his hands into a T shape while he doubled over and panted and puffed for air. His signature sage scent wafted strongly from him now, invading your senses and forcing you back a step or two.

A discreet smile stole its way onto your face, a smug one if you were honest. There was a steady tension starting to warm in your legs, but you were no where near over extension. Apparently all the breakfast and rest you’d gotten had done you wonders, because you felt like you could keep going all day and all night, maybe longer than that. It made you wonder if maybe Price and Ghost didn’t have a point to all the nice things they were doing for you afterall.

“You did well, Soap,” Ghost chuckled, wandering back onto the course with a swagger to his step. “You too, Pup. Reckon you’ll be nice and warmed up for Price and Garrick now.”

“Christ, Pup’s gonna do this two more times?” Soap asked, looking over at you in wonder.

“Mhmm,” Ghost hummed.

“You not tired?” Soap asked, directing his question toward you..

You laughed at that, unsure as to why he’d be so shocked you were going to keep going. Normally you’d spend your whole days training when you weren’t on an active mission. Running and sparring were practically all you knew. If you were to tire out early, you’d be punished for it, blamed for not getting enough sleep or not eating your shitty MREs. Stopping wasn’t in the equation.

“I can go all day,” you shrugged.

“Christ, and they tell me I’m hyperactive.”

-🐺-

Overall impressed with your performance that day, Ghost had insisted on dragging you out to a shopping villiage, or as you now thought of it - a torture desensitisation arena. Even later on at night, there were so many people around: screaming children that were moaning about being tired and hungry, teenagers laughing like hyenas, couples arguing over what they should and shouldn’t spend their money on. It didn’t help that there were so many busy shop fronts as well, colours and flashing lights and products you wouldn’t even know what to do with. It was a circus of too many stimuli and you were stuck at it’s roaring centre, sticking to Ghost like a fly on tape.

As soon as he’d parked up you’d demanded to know why he’d brought you there, not able to help the rising panic at being taken somewhere new. He’d explained that it was time to buy you some much needed casual clothes. Personal items. At the mention of that dreaded subject, you’d tried to protest and remind him about getting your brand new stack of clothes from the quartermaster, but Ghost had just snorted and said that he wasn’t taking you everywhere in your uniform. He didn’t care for the looks it would get him - said the man wearing a black medical skull mask over his face.

Undeterred by your saying that he didn't need to waste money on you, Ghost all but yanked you into all clothes shops, leading you by the hand and forcing you to pick casual clothes that you liked from the small selection the hybrid sections offered. It was an exercise made to humiliate, you’d thought, you had no idea how to pick clothes for yourself that weren’t standard issue - had no idea what colours and materials and fits went together with what. He’d made you pick what felt good in the end, said that Soap had told him the important thing was picking something comfortable - it didn’t narrow your search by very much.

Propelled by the thought of getting to leave if you just compiled, you eventually settled on some blue vans trainers, a cosy pullover hoodie, two new pyjama sets, a couple of pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts that weren’t too adventurous - save for the one that had some illustrated plants on it. Even that little amount felt like far too much, overwhelming you with how much choice you’d have when your promised downtime would come. Though every time you asked if you’d picked enough, Ghost would just fix you with a stony look that told you to keep going.

Then as if that wasn’t enough, he took you over to a bookshop as well, claiming you needed something to entertain yourself with in your downtime. Even when you told him you’d managed alright up till that point. However, when you were left to explore so that Ghost could go pick something for himself, it wasn’t the books there that you were most taken by.

“What’ve you got there then?”

You froze, shoulders bunching as you heard Ghost’s voice softly break your awed silence and looked guiltily down at the little puppy teddy you were holding. You weren’t supposed to be looking at that- that’s what you figured when you saw his shadow cross your path. A picture of his sneering face crossed your mind’s eye, darkened by that unruly blonde fringe of his.

What were you supposed to say to him? After blankly looking at a few of the books, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over to the little displays of plushies, and had slowly gravitated toward it when you saw the little dog that was now in your hands.

The dog’s fur was so unbelievably soft and its little spotted face reminded you of one of your favourite cartoons from when you were small. It called out to you and lured you in with the reminder of some old theme song that played in your head, made you pick it up and stroke its squishy black and white tummy with a smile plastered all over your face.

“I got distracted, sorry,” you murmured, gently placing it amongst its spotted siblings.

Ghost came round to your side and picked up the same puppy you’d been holding. You tilted your head in surprise and watched as he did the same as you, stroking the soft tummy while inspecting it. It looked comically smaller in his hands though, like a newborn pup.

“You want him?”

Your ears perked in surprise when he spoke. Finally you chanced a look up at him and felt your cheeks warm when you made eye contact, thoroughly embarrassed that you’d been caught. Though he didn’t look judgemental like you’d thought he would, instead he just stared at you earnestly over his black medical mask and gave you a chance to speak.

“I…um...” you weren’t sure what to say.

Of course you wanted him. Every little instinct in you wanted to take the toy and hold it and cuddle it and never let go. However that wasn’t the kind of behaviour befitting of a military class hybrid like you, and it was the kind of thing you’d have been endlessly mocked, if not punished for before.

Soldiers don’t cuddle their teddy bears and blankets, they make their beds quickly and efficiently and don’t concern themselves with such stupid frivolities!

“It’s not a trick question, Pup. No wrong answer,” Ghost supplied, holding the puppy out to you encouragingly.

You breathed out a sigh, but your chest didn’t feel any less heavy. Even if it was such a silly decision to make, it still felt like such a big undertaking. If you said yes and took it, would Ghost think less of you? You already thought less of you for wanting it. You were already filled with judgement, the voices of all the superiors that had ever disciplined you mocking you in one big evil choir.

Stupid little baby wolf.

You whined, but even despite yourself, you took it and held it to your chest.

“Hey, you deserve to have things of your own, that’s what tonight’s all about,” Ghost said, gently setting his hand on your shoulder as he did so. “You deserve to exist outside of the military, to be more than a war dog. If this makes you happy, then we should get ‘im.”

You wanted to keel over then as you rolled your eyes, let your whole body collapse with the motion. This dog at least was a simple decision in terms of what you liked, much easier than when you’d been standing in front of all those dreaded clothes racks, but it didn’t make finalising it any easier. Not when your feelings were colliding like waves against a harbour wall, one side seemingly solid while the other corroded it.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not supposed to want things like this,” you mumbled, holding the teddy out in front of yourself again like it was some kind of alien object.

“Why not?” he chuckled.

“Because it’s for children,” you said dryly.

“It’s not for children,” he scoffed. “There’s no rules on who gets to buy cuddly toys. Anyway, you clearly want the little fella, so we’re getting him.”

You frowned, looking confusedly down at the dog again.

“But It’s a distraction…All of this stuff is,” you uttered, feeling Maddox’s voice speak through you like a spell had been cast. “It’ll take my mind off important things and get everyone hurt.”

You thought back to the kid in the bunk next to you, the one that had cried on the first day because they couldn’t have their teddy bear to sleep with. Maddox had lectured you all then and there, almost shouting the fur off your ears, saying that hybrid soldiers couldn’t let anything get in the way of them functioning. Needing a teddy bear to sleep wouldn’t fly when you were overseas and catching bullets because you were sleep deprived, reading books to escape your miserable new lives would get you killed when your heads were still stuck in them, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

“You don’t think we all need distractions sometimes?” Ghost asked. “Distractions make life worth living, and you’re no less deserving of that than anyone on the team. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. In fact, you were arguing a point that wasn’t even yours. So, in response, you shrugged and traced one of the puppy’s patches.

“I think you care about me like…a weird amount,” you mumbled.

“A weird amount?” Ghost scoffed, hiding a crinkly eyed smile behind his mask. “Why’s it weird to care about you, huh?”

You shrugged again.

“Ok, listen. You’ve been all twisted up by those idiots at your last base and I want you to know that I’m not gonna legitimise a single thing that they’ve taught you. This is what it’s going to be like now, this is what you get for coming in everyday and working your arse off. The fact that you’ve been given no compensation and been run so badly into the ground by those cretins is nothing short of appalling. Believe me when I tell you that I know it’s not as simple as flicking a switch and getting used to good treatment - it won’t happen just because I tell you it’s all over now and I understand that. Just…let me give you a little bit of comfort, yeah? Just to show you how things should be. Just enjoy a distraction or two and see that it won’t be life ending, and it’s not gonna get taken away from you. I promise you’ll be fine”

Your throat was too thick with emotion to answer. So instead of making a fool out of yourself you nodded your assent and looked down at your new prize with wonder. How long had it been since you’d owned something that didn’t have any function or use on the battlefield? How long since you’d held something so soft?

“Now…did you actually look at any books or did you just stand and bully yourself for wanting something nice?”

You jumped when Ghost’s grizzled voice sounded out and brought your mind back to task, shaking your head of all your musings. Choosing books - right. All at once, the multicoloured aisles came back to view and all the people in them, the room filled out around you and made you hold your puppy down low at your side and out of view.

“Yeah, I um- I think I found something cool.”

-🐺-

That night Ghost let you stay up in bed for a little bit to read. Leaving you nestled in your swarm of blankets sitting side by side with your new friend as the plush sat up against the pillows with you. Your eyes poured over the artwork of your new graphic novels in wonder, admiring the bold colours and thick lines, turning the glossy pages ever so slowly as if your heart would stop beating when you got to the end of the book.

When you ended the first chapter you smiled down at the little dog rather childishly and bit your lip. It was silly to name inanimate objects, it didn’t take someone standing over you and shouting at you to know that, though you couldn’t help it when the name seemed to cling to him with an unshakable grip. Simon. You’d name him Simon after the main character in the story. It seemed to suit the little black and white dog just as much as it did the hybrid boy, and now there was no changing it - unfortunately for you.

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renegadecantlife · 6 months

Text

Pup deserves all the plushies in the world ;w;

Reign down on me - Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment

-🐺-

When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.

You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time.

“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!”

The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you.

Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too.

“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”

You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile.

“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness.

“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”

Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.

“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname.

“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.

Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance.

“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.

“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”

“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.

“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”

“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”

Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’.

“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”

“Pup?” Gaz repeated.

He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise.

You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly.

“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin.

“Do you want us to call you that now?”

Fuck off.

Get Fucked.

Why don’t I call you that?

Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.

“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ‘most people do’.

You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him.

“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again.

“What?”

“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”

You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing.

“Never said he was,” you answered defensively.

“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”

You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be.

“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”

Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.

“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently.

You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”

“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly.

“You sure?”

You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions.

How could you willingly let go of that?

-🐺-

Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.

They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.

It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.

They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.

But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment.

“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them.

They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within.

Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty?

“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s.

You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air.

“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head.

“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”

“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”

“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”

You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.

“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea.

You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered.

“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”

You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to.

“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you.

And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.

“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”

“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”

Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago.

Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.

“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could.

You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down.

“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”

“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”

You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong.

“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”

Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.

“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”

Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.

Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon.

From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn.

Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems.

Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.

You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage.

They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses.

You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons.

“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”

-🐺-

“Pup?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!

“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”

He’d asked you something…

“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.

You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes.

Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him.

“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle.

“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”

“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight.

“That’s my good pup.”

He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it.

The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically.

It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting.

You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights.

Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt.

However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments.

“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him.

If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.

Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.

“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go.

“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.”

With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.

From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce.

“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”

“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.

He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise.

“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”

Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor.

Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out.

You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…

You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street.

You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead.

Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.

Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot.

“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear.

Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.

When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders

“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”

You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field.

Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill.

In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.

Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face.

That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee.

By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else.

“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”

“Sir, I-“

Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves.

“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!” he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats.

You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.

“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.”

You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes.

“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?”

Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front.

“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”

“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed.

“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.”

You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching.

Speaking of-

“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms.

With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.

After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat.

You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind.

Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets.

Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead.

“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”

“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.

“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”

“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”

That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements.

“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”

There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough.

You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could.

“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”

You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you.

“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.

Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.

In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes.

“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost.

“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?”

You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives.

“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.”

You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes.

Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times.

The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance.

Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.

It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.

Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths.

“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”

You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building.

“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.

A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe.

You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new…something you hadn’t encountered before.

“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it.

“Here, take this.”

Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.

“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown.

“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”

You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered.

“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you.

Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now…

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renegadecantlife · 6 months

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'They had taken you on a car ride just by yourself, and you'd been so excited to begin with, your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats'

'They'd even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with.'

'I'll get to come home and visit right?!'

If anyone asks me if I'm ok- that answer is no. No I'm not- I want to buy pup a plushie and a soft blanket and give them a happy meal that they can have that isent a placating goodbye meal ;-;