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ha-e-l · 1 year

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Eclipse - Chapter 1 [Cod MW2 x OC]

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Here it goes! No idea when I’ll be posting more, but hopefully semi-regularly. Enjoy! CW: Cannon typical violence near the end

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To say that I was nervous about this team-up would be a severe under exaggeration. I am fucking terrified.

Joining teams like this could lead to so many different outcomes. Of course the hopeful one is that everyone gets along and works together to successfully complete the mission, but that isn’t a guarantee.

It is no secret that being in special forces you have to work to prove yourself, no matter which country you’re fighting for. So joining a brand new team, who had no idea what my skillset is, meant that I will have to start the process all over again. My only saving grace is that I have one ally coming with me.

König and I have been working together for about 5 years, and I can say, without a doubt that I trust him with my life. Standing at 6’10”, with broad shoulders to match, and the constant presence of his mask, people tend to find him intimidating. They avoid deeper connections with the man out of fear, and intimidation. But under that dark mask, he truly is just a big softy.

In the grips of battle, he is confident, and task-focused; willing to do whatever it takes to finish the mission and come home with his team. Out of the line of fire, however, that confidence bleeds away, revealing the anxious mess of a man below. And god could I relate to that.

It’s so easy to be brave when any minute could be your last, but in the quiet domestic moments, that bravery is nowhere to be found. Moments where ordering a drink in a busy café felt harder than being confronted with the barrel of your enemy’s gun.

And maybe that’s why we bonded so well, we could understand each other's mindset. Understand the hardships that we encountered without judging each other for it. And it does help to have someone there who understands what’s happening, it chips away at the fear until it’s no longer an all-consuming entity, and instead something small that can be tucked away for later.

But this was a rare occasion where that fear couldn’t be tucked away. I was facing it head-on, and at any minute it would reach its crescendo, and the new team would walk through the door in front of me.

König was joining us later, as he had a meeting with our director to inform him we had made it safely to the base. I, for whatever reason however, am on greeting duty, and König gets to push it back until later. I’m not sure which one I would hate more. At least this way the bandaid was being ripped off for me. König has to dwell over his late entrance.

“Sheiße.” (Shit) My leg won’t stop shaking, and I look to the ground, resting my arms across the top of my thighs as I fold my hands together, fighting the urge to fiddle with my knives. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest, shaking my entire being with it as I wait for my merry group of men that I will be teaming up with. I take deep breaths, attempting to calm myself, and when that dosen’t work, I curl even farther into myself and hold my breath.

I release my breath quickly when the door to the room I was in opens, and four men walk in. My reaction is slowed by the lack of usable oxygen flowing to my brain, but as all four men come to a stop next to the table, I rise from my seat, shaking my hands out as I make my way toward the group, scanning them over as I near.

I had memorized their information when we were assigned this team, and I am now putting information to faces. Or in the case of one man, information to mask. The white skull was glaring against the black balaclava that he wears, and there is no question in my mind that this is Ghost. The man who never had a photo taken of him. But who was I to judge? I had spent the last 5 years partnered with a man, and I had never once seen his face. Everyone had their reasons for their quirks, and I’m sure it’s no different with this man.

“Good to finally meet you, Sergeant. I hope you had a nice ride over?” Captain Price steps forward, extending his hand for me to shake, which I do.

“Good to meet you as well Captain, and yes, it was a good old military transport.” I smile slightly, trying to convey that I’m making fun of the transport that we were all used to, and I am relieved when the Captain gives a short laugh before turning to the others behind him.

“Sergeant, this is Gaz, Soap, and Lieutenant Ghost. Gentlemen, this is Sergeant Eclipse.” I give a nod to the men and receive two in response. It’s weird to hear my code name in English after so long, and I’m was hoping my discomfort is hidden well enough. “Our other new addition will be joining us shortly, but until then, I have new intel for you all to look over.” He produces five manila folders and sets them down on the table, taking a step back as the four of us move to pick one up and begin reading.

The silence that filled the space was neither awkward nor comfortable, just present, and it was beginning to make my shoulders pull tight. The manila folder is light in my hand as I look over the information. Mostly blueprints, some numbers for personnel, and any background we had on them. My hip is cocked to the side, my other leg pointed away from my body. My back is curved as my shoulders hunch in around myself, blocking my neck from sudden attack as I stand prone in the small room.

About 5 minutes later, there is a soft knock on the door that causes all of us to look up and spot the hulking frame of my partner as he ducks through the doorway. He shakes hands with Captain Price and is handed his folder before they turn to face the rest of us.

“Fellas, this here is König, our second transfer.” I cringe slightly at his pronunciation of König’s name and feel my eyebrows draw slightly together as I wonder why he translated my name and not his. With a pat to the back, König is stepping toward me, and comes to a stop at my side, looking down at me. It’s only when he stands this close that I realized he looks taller than usual, and I straighten my posture, standing to full height next to the man.

“So Klein.” (So small) He raises his hand, ruffling my hair. And while I may not be able to see his face, I know damn well that is a smile in his eyes. I push his hand away, glaring playfully at him as I give him a good punch to the side. His shoulders shake with a silent laugh as he turns to his folder, and I return to mine, re-reading the entire thing.

Five minutes later, everyone is done processing the new intel, and we all gather around the table again. My hands rest in the arm holes of my vest as I wait next to König to hear what we are to do next.

“We have roughly three days before we ship out, so use this time to get yourselves in order, whatever that means for you. But you better be ready when we leave.” We all nod, and Price leaves the room, Gaz following after him. Soap turns and makes his way toward König and I, stopping in front of us. He isn’t short by any means, but just about anyone looks short in comparison to my quiet friend.

“What’re they feedin’ you back t’ere” Soap’s accent was thick, but not to the point of misunderstanding. Ghost steps up behind the man, and I can see the wheels turning in his head as he sizes König up. I can also feel the brush of König’s arm as he tenses behind me.

“Potatoes mostly,” I say, letting my arms fall to my sides, looking between the two men.

“That so?” Soap asks, a small smile on his face. I let one claim my face as well, and nod. “We were about to head back to the barracks if you wanted to tag along?” He tilts his head to one side, and I am reminded of the dogs we had back on base.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” My accent is thick to my own ears, and I wonder if he is having the same thoughts about my accent as I am about his. He gives a nod, smile still on his face as he moves toward the door. I follow, König behind me, and Ghost behind him.

Once we are out in the open, we switch to walking side by side, creating a line as we walk toward what I could only assume is the barracks building. Soap chatters as we walk, explaining where the mess hall is, but that they have a small communal kitchen space where we were free to make food if we felt inclined. He also explained that there are communal showers, but that the showers in the gym were single stalls. I smile at that, glad to hear that I could have some privacy while on base.

The doors to the barrack building are heavy steel, guarded with a passcode lock, that Soap quickly tells us the code to.

Once we are in the main hallway, I see the small communal space that Soap had mentioned and spot Gaz leaning into the fridge there as we walk past. Soap points out the door to the gym as we pass it, then pushes the door to our barracks open. Inside there are six single cots, all with the same dull green blankets and white sheets. Next to each bed is a small nightstand with a lamp, and at the foot of each bed, there are metal boxes for storage. It’s simple, but it’s familiar.

With three beds on each side of the room, the space feels symmetrical, and it is a welcome view. The beds on the far end of the right-hand side of the room contain our bags, and I’m not sure how to feel about getting the bed closest to the corner, and farthest from the door. But, these are the cards I was dealt, and by god I’m going to play them.

“Thank you Soap, your tour has been very helpful.” I try to give a small smile, but Soap just looks confused.

“Are you bein’ serious? Or ‘re ya messin' with me?” He asks looking me over as König moves to his bed to dig through his belongings.

“I assure you, Finsternis(Eclipse) is being sincere,” König says, back turned toward the three of us that are in the room with him. I smile as he looks over his shoulder at us, eyes catching the light and shining through the slits in his mask. Soap smiles back at us, and makes his way toward his own bed, directly across from König.

The day proceeds smoothly, and soon I am wearing a white shirt and black shorts as I pull my blanket up to my chest and turn to face my partner in the bed next to me.

“Schlaf gut, mein Freund.” (Sleep well my friend) I say, smiling slightly at the large man attempting to fit into the bed.

“Schlaff gut.” (Sleep well) He responds, and we both click our lights off.

Soap and Gaz are already in their beds, and working on turning their lights off as well. Price is puttering around the foot of his bed, moving things around, but he is dressed in his night clothes, so I expected it won’t be long until he too is in his bed. Ghost, however, is nowhere to be seen. His bed is the one directly across from mine, so as I lay there, waiting for sleep to engulf me, I have nowhere to look but at that empty bed. He keeps his corner very tidy; so tidy that I wonder if he sleeps somewhere else, and avoids this space altogether.

Eventually, when my brain begins creating different scenarios of what he could be doing instead of sleeping, I decide to close my eyes, turning so my back is to the gap between the wall and my bed, and I can open my eyes and see over König and Gaz and watch the entrance to the room. With my eyes closed, sleep comes easier, and I fell deep into the darkness, the sounds of Price’s piddling fading away.

Pain. All I could feel was pain. Radiating from every point of contact with the men surrounding me. The knife sticking out of my thigh wobbled slightly as one man flicked its handle, and I groaned at the pain, biting my lip to try and cover it.

“Still nothing?” The man asked, leaning over me. I collected the spit in my mouth, tainted with blood, and spit it directly into the man’s face, watching as the pinkish liquid slid down his cheek.

“I’ll never tell you anything,” I said, staring up at him. But his smile curled on his face again as he waved another man over.

“We’ll see about that.” The man that came over held a car battery, and two jumper cables, and I could feel my skin prickle with the anticipation of the electrical current I knew was about to flow through me.

“You can stop this, just tell me what I want to know.” The man said, grabbing the cables and touching them together to create sparks. But I stayed silent, watching as the cables moved closer and closer to my chest, which was exposed except for the tank top I usually wore under my shirts. When the cables finally made contact, the pain was searing, and my silence broke as I screamed out in pain.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #cod mwii #141 #gender neutral mc #gender neutral oc #gender neutral reader #no use of y/n #könig mw2 #könig #modern warefare ii #könig x oc #könig x reader #haeL

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ha-e-l · 1 year

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Eclipse- Chapter 2 [Cod MW2 x OC]

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Chapter 2!! This one’s a little longer, but things are starting to actually happen now. I know it’s not the most well written thing you’ll ever read, but if I rewrite this section I’ll have to do the rest, and I just don’t have the energy for that. Anyways, enjoy

Roughly 4.4k Words

CW: Mention of suicide, mild blood, joint dislocation, Ghost’s terrible jokes

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My eyes snap open, mouth snapping closed to trap my scream as I throw myself off the side of my bed and roll under it, gripping my knife tightly to my chest. My breathing is rapid, phantom pain ricocheting through my veins, and scars burning more than they usually do. It’s completely dark in the room, and even darker under the bed. The only light that manages to make it through is that of the moon shining through the window on the back wall between my and Ghost's beds. I keep my eyes on that light, using it to ground myself in the present and push away the memories of my past.

But then my light is blocked. A large figure fills the space before crouching down beside my bed and tilting their head so they can look at me.

The white paint depicting his lower jaw practically glows in the light, and I release some of my grip on the knife across my chest. The dark paint around his eyes is missing now, and the pale skin seems out of place behind the mask.

He crouches there for a moment holding eye contact as I catch my breath, then nods his head behind him, and stands. I can hear his footfalls move away from my bed, and slowly roll out, following behind him.

I grab my boots from the foot of my bed and pause momentarily, watching as Ghost halts at the door. Once my boots are securely on my feet, Ghost moves, pushes the door open and slips out. I follow quietly, allowing my other teammates the rest they deserve, as I too slink my way out the door, and down the hallway, where I watch Ghost disappear behind another door. One that Soap hadn’t mentioned on his makeshift tour.

I contemplate turning around, crawling back under my bed, and dealing with the aftermath of my nightmare alone, but push forward anyways. The door that Ghost had disappeared behind leads straight to a set of stairs, ones that only go up.

I keep my steps silent as I move up the stairs, wiping the sweat that had collected thanks to my dream, away from my eyes. At the top of the stairs, there is another door, and I push it open carefully, cringing at the squeak it releases as I do so.

The moonlight is much brighter up here, and it illuminates the roof space where Ghost stands. He’s standing on the slight lift on the edge of the roof, looking out over the grounds, like a watchdog. The cold air hits me as the door swings closed and I move toward Ghost.

I can feel the rapidly cooling sweat dripping down my back, causing an uncomfortable chill to race up my spine. The twitching of my muscles reminds me of the involuntary spasming that occurred when I was electrocuted, and the phantom pain roars inside my veins again, causing me to stiffen. I stop in my tracks, a few feet away from where Ghost turns to face me. His eyes bore into mine, and in that moment it feels like he knows every thought that’s flowing through my head. Like he knows exactly the pain that I’m feeling, even though it’s all mental, and not physical.

And I realize, as I push myself to step closer to the man, that he might understand exactly what I’m going through. I come to a stop next to him, about an arm's length from his side as I too stare off into the darkness of the base.

I can see people moving around below us, small points moving through the darkness, occasionally illuminated by the bright lights on the ground.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to ground myself, pushing the memory far away. It occurs to me how vulnerable I am at this moment. Eyes closed and poised at the edge of the building. Ghost could easily push me off and claim that I had jumped. And maybe people would believe him. I had seen a lot in my years, and people couldn’t fault me too much for letting it get to my head. But that isn’t my intention.

My eyes snap open, and I turn to the man next to me, feeling my heart pick up again at the idea. Ghost turns slowly to look at me as well, his calm eyes meeting my fiery ones. I feel stiff, the remnants of the memory keeping me on high alert. And when Ghost moves, I take a small step away from him, realizing, with no comfort, that I don’t have a weapon on me except for the small knife tucked in my boot.

But Ghost doesn't move toward me, instead, he sits on the edge of the building, hands coming together in his lap as he looks away from me completely. My breathing is fast again, and I can feel the dredges of panic pulling at my brain. The edges of my vision are beginning to blur slightly, and my head feels faint. I can feel the burning of the jumper cables through my sides and bring my hand up to rub at the scars that lay under my shirt.

“Two goldfish are in a tank.” Ghost’s voice is startling in the silence of the night. I blink rapidly, trying to clear the blurriness, and figure out where this is going.

“Okay?” I ask, not quite sure if there was more to the statement, or if that was the extent of what he was going to say.

“One turns to the other and says, ‘You know how to drive this thing?’” He turns his face slightly toward me, gauging a reaction. I stay still for a moment, working through the absurdity of his joke before a large smile overtakes my face and I let out a low chuckle before quieting myself down.

“Quite the jokester, aren’t you?” I say, finally sitting down with him, hands resting behind me to hold onto the ledge, just in case.

“I could do this all night.” He says, eyes still tracing over my form.

“I’m sure you could, Lieutenant.” I close my eyes again, looking up toward the sky as a smaller smile covers my expression. The moon is bright, even behind my eyelids, and I take comfort in the fact that it is there.

Somehow, this man, who I’d only known for a few hours, had known exactly what to do to help me calm down.

I had always been drawn to the moon. Something about it calming me, while also giving me the strength to do whatever it is I had to do. It’s how I got my nickname; since I prefer night missions, and therefore all people see of me is my silhouette against the moon. Hence, Eclipse. Everyone had a story for their name, mine wasn’t all that fun, but I was willing to bet that Soap’s had some sort of fun meaning behind it. I knew he was a demolitions specialist, perhaps it was because he could create a clean slate after demoing. Of course, Ghost would have to have a story as well, but with how he acted, I figure that he isn’t exactly the ‘share my personal history with someone I just met’ type. And I’m not one to push boundaries. If I like my boundaries respected then the least I can do is respect his.

We sit in silence for a while, each scanning around the compound, occasionally glancing past each other, but otherwise keep to ourselves.

Light is beginning to fill the sky when I finally decide to check my watch. It reads 0400, and I know I’m not going to get back to sleep. Ghost is still next to me, back hunched over in a similar fashion to my own as we sit atop the concrete roof. I look at the man, really look at him for the first time since we came up here.

He wears a dark balaklava, similar to the one with the skull plate stitched to it, but this one’s forehead is clear, only having the lower half painted instead of the full get up. He also wears a dark t-shirt, which exposes the tattoos covering his left arm, and dark jogging pants. He has his boots unlaced, but they are tightened enough not to fall over the edge of the building as he gently sways his feet. His clothing makes him seem more approachable than he had been earlier but it does nothing to change his imposing size. It seems he doesn't need his protective layers to be intimidating.

“Would you spar with me?” I ask, cringing slightly at the roughness of my voice after going unused for so long. I clear my throat carefully as Ghost turns to observe me. I watch as his eyes trail up and down my form, coming to a rest on my face. The mask makes it difficult to tell what he was thinking, but after years of practice with König, I feel like I can gauge his thoughts through his eyes alone.

“You don’t have to. When König wakes up I can ask him.” Ghost blinks slowly, eyes squinting at me ever so slightly, before he gives a small nod, and straightens his back. I smile, glad to have a new sparring partner, and stand, dusting my pants off as I step away from the edge. Ghost does the same, and I follow him through the door and back down the stairs.

We exit the stairs, turn right, and enter the gym. Ghost flicks the lights on, illuminating the space. One wall is lined with mirrors, and against the other are three treadmills, and a weight rack, along with other workout equipment spread out across the room. And in the middle of the room, there is padding on the floor, which Ghost and I are steadily approaching. Ghost stops at the edge of the mat, and loosens his boots before slipping them off, and stepping fully onto the mat. I follow his lead, slipping my boots off and setting them next to his before stepping onto the mat.

I mess with my hair until it isn’t in my line of sight, watching Ghost the whole time to make sure he doesn't move while I’m distracted. Once my hair is out of the way, I get into stance, and watch as Ghost does the same.

“Ready?” He asks, eyes boring into mine.

“Ready,” I confirm, and as soon as the word leaves my mouth, we’re moving.

My left foot moves in a large step, bringing me closer to Ghost, but before I make contact I spin to my right, tucking myself into him as I bring an elbow back to his chest. There is a dull thud as my elbow makes contact, and I can almost feel the breath he lets out. But he reacts fast.

He uses my proximity to kick the back of my knee, forcing me to the ground. His own knee presses into my back as he kneels over me. I turn my head to the side, looking into his eyes. There is a hint of a smirk behind them as I continue struggling, but it disappears when I get a knee up under myself and practically buck him off of me. I spin, jumping up as I do, before he dives for my legs. We are falling to the floor before I can take in a complete breath, my partial one being forced out of me as Ghost’s weight crushes me to the mat. I quickly bring a knee up to his back, aiming for his kidneys, but he moves to the side ever so slightly, avoiding the worst of it and sending a spark up my leg instead. He grabs my wrists in one hand, holding them above me as he straddles my legs, keeping them from kicking up at him anymore. The smirk is back in his eyes, and I’m determined to get rid of it. I bend my knees, planting my feet on the outside of his as I use his grip on my wrists to secure us together, then bring my hips up, and push him to the side, ending with me above him. But he still has a grip on my wrists, which he uses to throw me over his head. I land, sprawled on my back, the wind knocked out of me, at the edge of the mat. But I can’t give up, not yet. So I jump up, coming face to face with Ghost as he walks toward me. I only have a few inches of the mat behind me, and I know he’s trying to back me off. I can’t let that happen.

So, as he gets within a few steps of me, I dive to his left, holding my hands out in front of me to start my roll. I feel a twinge go through my wrist but ignore it as I stand again, turning to face him. We are kitty-corner to each other now, and I can see the determination building behind his eyes as he steps toward me again.

An hour later and we’re both covered in a layer of sweat, causing our hands to slip off of each other as we made grasps. I had slipped off my shirt a little while ago, and I’m now fighting in my tank top and sleep shorts. Ghost is still wearing all his clothes, and I commend him for working through the heat I know has to be building behind his mask.

We’re circling each other, hands up and ready to strike. Ghost makes the first move, swiping my legs out from under me, and causing me to drop unceremoniously to the mat. He jumps on top of me as I roll over, practically sitting on my lower back as his legs press against my own, keeping me still as he grabs my left arm, and brings it behind me.

He had abandoned any sense of holding back that he held earlier in our fighting, and pulls roughly at my shoulder just as I was about to tap out. But it’s too late. I feel the joint slip, and click as the pain bursts down my arm and up my neck. My right hand immediately flies back to tap at his thigh as I bite my lip to stifle the noises I want to let out.

He releases me immediately, moving to stand and look down at me. I bring my hips up slightly as I pull myself together enough to roll over, eyes squeezed shut, and teeth digging into my lip to the point where I can faintly taste blood. I finally flip over, and the intense wave of pain it brings causes me to throw my eyes open, breathing as deeply as I can manage. Ghost is looking down at me, eyes squinted, and unfocused. Like he’s trying to think something through but is struggling.

My right hand slots into place against my left shoulder, and I gently push at it, making sure it had just slipped out of place. And, as I thought, it had, meaning all I have to do is pop it back in. I groan again as my poking flares the pain, and try to sit up slightly, but fail when the joint moves. I drop onto the mat, deep breaths leaving my lips.

Ghost looks mortified. That’s the closest emotion I can find in his eyes. His chest is barely moving, as if he’s stopped breathing, and his eyes are still cloudy and distant. I recognize the glazed eyes from when König falls into his panic attacks, but there isn’t much I can do for Ghost until I get my shoulder back in place.

As I groan through the pain again, I hear the door to the gym open, and two sets of footsteps enter through it. My eyes close again to ward off the pain that zings through my arm when I try to look at who they are.

“Finsternis?”(Eclipse) Good, it’s König. He knows how shit my shoulder is, and has helped me put it back in place more times than I can count.

“Ghost?” Looks like Price is the second person present.

My eyes open again as I feel König drop to kneel next to me, and see Ghost still staring at me.

“Schulter,” (Shoulder)The word croaks out of my throat as I swallow down the pain. Normally we are able to slip it back into place almost immediately, but it has been at least 3 minutes, and it’s getting angrier and angrier with me.

König’s eyes slip from my face to look at where my right hand is pressed into my left shoulder.

“Wir müssen es wieder an Ort.” (We have to put it back in place) I say, looking into König’s dark eyes as they bore into mine. He gives a small nod and moves so he is to my left, pulling my arm out with him. I grit my teeth together against the pain and drop my right hand to my side as he finally gets into place. He places one foot so it’s pushing against my ribcage, and plants the other one firmly on the ground near my head.

“Auf Drei,” (On three) He says, looking me in the eyes. I turn away, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth again as I prepare for the pain. “Eins.”(One) But he doesn't wait for three, he barely waits at all, before pulling on my arm, pushing against my ribcage as I feel the ball slip back into its socket.

“Scheiße!”(Shit) I say through my gritted teeth, hearing the pop externally and internally. The world sways momentarily, but König keeps a firm grip on my hand as he scoots closer to me again. He uses his hand to turn my face toward him, and I open my eyes again to make eye contact with him.

“Ich hasse es, wenn du das machst." (I hate when you do that) I say, and he shakes with a silent laugh at my expense.

“Nachstes mal lasse ich es dann.” (Next time I’ll leave it then) He says, and I can see the smile in his eyes. Using my good arm I punch his shoulder. Behind him, Ghost is still standing still, though now he’s scanning the gym like he was cataloging it. Price is somewhere over my head, though he’s quiet, probably waiting for the best time to speak. As I sit up, with the help of König, Ghost grabs his boots from the side of the mat, and slinks out the door, ignoring the captain calling to him.

I watch as he leaves, not looking back once.

“What the hell was that?” Price asks, arms crossing over his chest, and mustache twitching against his lip.

“Shoulder injury that never healed right, it slips out sometimes without much pressure applied. Nothing that affects my performance in the field Captain, I assure you.” Price’s eyes burn into me, and for a moment I’m worried that he’s going to pull me from the mission, but his hands fall to his sides as he finally speaks, and I relax marginally.

“It better not.” Is all he says before turning and following the same path that Ghost had.

“Was ist passiert?” (What happened?) König asks as he helps me stand.

“Kampftraining.Ich war nicht schnell genug, um etwas zu sagen.”( Sparring. I wasn’t fast enough to say something.) I shrug my shoulders, then regret it immediately as I feel the dull pain shoot through my arm. “Aber jetzt muss ich duschen.” (But now, I have to shower) I say, and König laughs, pushing me away slightly.

“Ja, das muss du, du riechst.” (Yeah, you do, you smell.) I laugh with him as we walk back into the barracks room. Gaz and Soap are gathering their clothes, and Price and Ghost are nowhere to be found.

I collect some clothes from my bag and turn to make my way back to the gym, where the single-stall showers supposedly are. I have never been a fan of the group showers.

König is sitting on his bed with his weapons, both his knives, and guns, and is laying them out in the exact order he does every time he checks them over. It’s one of his many ticks when he’s uncomfortable in a space, as it gives him control over something, as well as allowing him the peace of mind of something familiar. I push his head lightly as I pass him, but he doesn't react more than pushing my hand away, eyes still trained on his weapons.

The walk to the gym is short, and the lights are still on. I see the door on the far side of the room and move toward it. Behind the door, there are cubbies lining one wall, with benches in the middle, and six shower stalls on the opposite wall. The lights have a sickly blue hue to them, and they flicker slightly as I turn them on. It certainly won’t be the worst shower I’ve taken, at least this one will be warm.

After my shower, I make my way back into the barracks room. None of the boys are in here, so I assume they had all found better things to do with their time. I sit on the edge of my bed and run a hand down my face. I can’t get Ghost’s eyes out of my head. The look in them when he heard the pop of my shoulder slipping out of place, the blurriness that consumed them in the aftermath. I know that he’s a trained soldier. One who has taken out more targets than I will ever be cleared to know. But that small look of fear that flickered in the back of his eyes, makes me want to apologize to him. To make it clear that it isn’t his fault, that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

He could be anywhere on base, or off base for that matter. I know nothing about him, his life, or his patterns. I only know one place where he had shown me he hung out, and that’s going to be my starting point.

I stand from my bed, open the door to our barracks room, and follow the hallway to the door that Ghost had shown me last night. I climb the stairs quietly, a hard habit to break, then take a breath as I exit onto the roof. I’m actually surprised to see the hulking frame of the man, dark against the pale concrete.

He’s laying on his stomach, tac gear on as he looks through the scope of his rifle. He’s scanning the base, or at least he was until the door closed behind me.

His eyes flick to me, grip tightening on his weapon. The paint is back around his eyes, making them look colder and less human than they had been earlier. I take a step toward him and watch as he flips the cover over his scope, pulling himself up into a crouching position as he begins packing his gun away. He doesn’t look back over at me, and within 30 seconds, he’s pushing past me toward the door.

“Ghost,” I start, reaching out to try and grip his arm before he’s all the way past me. He spins around, arm pulling away from my grip. I have no time to duck, no time to block the elbow as it comes toward my face. My head whips to the side, hand slipping from his arm and pulling up to cradle my smarting face. My eyes well up with reflexive tears that I won’t allow to fall, and I can feel the trickle of blood beginning to flow down through my nose. I look up at Ghost through my tears. He stares down at me for a moment, hand hanging in the air, the jaw painted on his mask moving but no sound coming out of his mouth. His hand moves towards my face, and I take a small step back before I think of what I’m doing. The hand stops, the jaw returns to its resting place and I watch his eyes harden ever so slightly before he turns and reaches for the door.

And then he’s gone.

The blood pours freely out of my nose, and I just let it, knowing that it was covering the bottom half of my face. My whole face feels simultaneously numb and burns at the same time. I stand there for a moment longer, until the first drop of my blood hits the concrete below me, and then I finally move. The door squeaks open as I pull it, then slams shut behind me as I make my way down the stairs. I don’t go back to the barracks, instead, I go back through the gym, leaving the main lights off, and open the door to the shower room. In the far corner, there’s a sink, with a crappy mirror hanging haphazardly above it.

The loose washcloth I find makes a good compress as I press it against my nose, leaning over the sink to keep my head pointed down. Lord knows I had seen what choking on your own blood looked like.

My mind is blank, going through the motions of cleaning up after a fight, nothing I haven’t done before. I replay the interaction in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong.

Grabbing him may not have been my smartest decision, and while I’m a little put out that he elbowed me in the face for it, he didn’t seem to do it on purpose. It was a reflex as much as me stepping backwards had been.

My nose finally stops bleeding, and I clear the remaining blood from around my lips and chin. My cheek is slightly swollen where his elbow made contact, and my nose is turning slightly purple, but I’m not too worried about it. Nothing is broken, and I can live with a little bruise during our mission.

I throw the bloodied washcloth in a hamper bin that’s next to one of the cubbies, and turn the lights off behind me as I walk out. The gym is still dark, and I walk straight through it, ignoring the slight twinge that goes up my back as I do.

I need to do something to clear my mind. I can’t exactly change what had happened with Ghost, but I could make myself stop thinking about it. Shooting seemed like just the answer I needed.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x oc #König x oc #könig mw2 #john soap mactavish #gender neutral oc #modern warefare II #141 #cod mw ghost #cod mwii #ghost #ghost x oc #haeL #no use of y/n #could be read as x reader

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