Ticci TimeBomb💣

It all started around four months ago. You had an experimental device quite literally blow up in your face, but you still learnt some pretty valuable data from it regardless. Of course, you could just write it down and go on with your day, but you were excited! This could turn into something really useful— a real game changer.

The only problem was, there was no one else in your team since specialists like you were so sparse. Well.. the sergeants were always nice to you. You’re sure Soap would love to hear about an explosive device anyway.

“That’s crazy”

Well, it was a rather dry response compared to the ten texts you had sent over, but you suppose it could be worse. Maybe he was just waiting for you to finish?”

“Sounds good 👍 “

Huh.. he sure did text like your dad. You put your phone down, a little disheartened by the lack of energy. Still, he could just be busy.. or a bad texter.. well it’s fine. Not a big deal. You’re an adult, and you still have more work to do— you can totally just tell him in person instead!

“So then when i tested it, it didn't even react badly at all! There was a little bit of fumes, but hardly near last time.” It’s been a whole week since, and you just couldn't hold it in today, telling him all about it. Besides, it’s lunch time, and he collected you from your lab so it must be fine. “So.. uh, any progress on the stuff we asked you to make a while back?”

You tilt your head, confused by his words. “The new breaching device? I mean, I sent that through a while ago. That’s not my fault if the testing and safety team haven't approved it yet though.”

“It is approved.” Price pops out of nowhere, almost making you jump before he pats his hand on your shoulder and grabs the last cake. Sneaky. “They’ll be arriving in time for our next op, Soap.”

You just grin, happy now that it’s gone through as you come and sit with them. As you eat, you start to realise he didn't really react to your story at all, just waiting until he could ask the question. Still, you refused to believe it was on purpose. He must’ve just been worried about the op

So you try Kyle next. It’s been a while, and they just returned from said op a week ago, so you figure it’s been enough time now.

“Hey Kyle, what do you think of these plans? I'm kind of worried it’ll react oddly with the metals, so there’s also this option. And I could just scrap it all together and make this instead.”

He doesn't reply initially, even if you can see his little icon is online, so you wait in your lab, lips turned down in a frown. It’s only twenty whole minutes later when your phone suddenly dings, making you rush over to check. “Sounds good.”

Huh?

He hadn't even answered the question you asked, not even in the slightest. Maybe he replied specifically to a plan you sent? Nope, not even. Just those two words. You let out a long sigh, glancing back at the prototype and just deciding to go ahead. Maybe he was in a rush but wanted to just give you an answer to your first question.

—-------------------

You cough harshly as you grab a water bottle from the rec room fridge, face scrunching up at the sharp wrack of it against your chest. Damnit, maybe these new concepts weren't a good idea in the slightest.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ghost comes up beside you, grabbing a water bottle for himself and making you frown at his gruff tone. Then again, he’s always been like that, so what can you really expect?

“Probably just some strong chemical I used.” You shrug, almost struggling to open the cap. “I’ll probably have to spend tomorrow doing paperwork instead..”

“No can do, we need more units of the prototype you put through the other week.” Price says from the armchair near the tv, stacks of paperwork on the coffee table.

“But..”

“The mission is next week and we have hardly any time to waste.”

Ghost only shrugs, sipping his own bottle of water down anyway. “Don’t know what the problem is, it is your job. You’ve got the weekend to rest up anyway.”

—------------

The longer you work on the units, the less time you spend outside of your lab. Even when you do somehow build the hope up to message one of them again, the best you get is a reaction in the chat, or an emoji. Other times they directly ignore whatever you had talked about, switching the conversation to something else. Plus, the one time you had gotten out and asked Soap if he wanted to go on a walk, he had barely let you get a word in.

“Price.. You got a minute?” This is the worst you’ve felt in forever. You’re not sure if it's spending all day getting hand cramps that has you, or spending all week worrying over if you really are just really annoying.

“Got one for you. Go on.”

Your palms are sweaty, and you wipe them against your jeans, suddenly really nervous about all this. It’s not like you haven't had good conversations with him before, and he’s never been explicitly rude either. Still, you can't help but wait for the inevitable.

“So? What is it?” He glances up at you, his pen on the papers he’s looking over and you just sit there on the couch, tongue falling still as you stare back at him.

“I..”

Do you start telling him a story? Maybe about how you feel? Or a rant? Do you tell him about the new weaponry because as a captain he’d want better right? Or do you tell him about the current project because he’d want an update?

What is the right thing to say?

“I’m a bit busy, you know.” He gestures to the papers and then glances back over you, who still sits there like your switch just wont turn on no matter how hard you try.

“I.. was just wondering if you wanted a cup of tea.” You eventually mumble, even if the words sound utterly wrong strung together and you’re closer to nonsense than speaking normally.

“Yeah, could do with one. Thanks.” He instantly shifts his attention back to his work and you swallow, stepping back and out of his office.

Then a few days later, they left, off for the mission for two whole weeks and you were on your own again. So here you are now, others asking if you’re okay and taking advantage of your ‘free time’ since they assumed, when the taskforce was gone, you had no work.

You come back to your lab, only leaving because you needed to grab a package you ordered– it’s been days since you’ve actually left your lab. You’re getting real sick of people asking for everything under the sun, or just straight up giving you odd looks when you even come near them anymore. In fact you’re starting to get really sick of everyone. With a long sigh, you stare at the message lighting up your phone. Really? You had to find out from some random soldier that they’re returning back today? They were supposed to be your team– weren’t you hired for their taskforce?

Feeling petty, you turn on do not disturb, although a small part of you knows that no notifications will even come through anyway. Instead, you let your eyes flicker to the broken parts sitting on your table, the chemicals littered across the lab. How did you come to dread the one thing you loved so much?

As you let your head rest on your scratched palms, you turn the music on your headphones louder– hoping to drown out the silence following you for days. You’re so sick of this.

—----------------

A whole day has passed since they got back from the mission and Price hasn't seen you once— you even missed the debrief session that discussed how well your devices work and how to implement them moving forward.

For some reason you’ve been spending more and more time in your lab— not that he’s bothered to ask why though. He always just boiled it down to too much work. They all had too much; it’s just life.

“Got the report but no one responded from the lab. Figured they’re not in there, Cap.” Gaz says, having just tried to deliver the documents to you but to no avail.

“Have you tried their room?” He huffs, wondering why Gaz was being so pedantic at all. Obviously if you werent in one place you must be the other.

“Yes sir, looks like it hasnt even been touched for a week though.”

“Fine. I’ll handle it.” He takes the report and tucks it with his pile as he dismisses Gaz, carrying in with more pressing matters.

It’s only that evening that he remembers, finding it again when he was looking for another document. Well, he fancied a cup of tea anyway, so he might aswell just deliver it on the way.

“Oi— Dont tell me you have those damn headphones again.”

There’s no response when he knocked, and so he groans, deciding to put the master key to good use and open the door. Immediately he’s hit with the strong fumes from mixed chemicals, so bad he has to pull up his shirt to cover his mouth. “What the..”

In the midst of it all you lay on your desk, passed out and arms limp at your sides, like the dead bodies he’d find out there in the field. “What did I say about falling asleep in here?” He grumbles, walking over to nudge your shoulder. You were a light sleeper anyways, he knew from the tiredness that lingered some mornings. Except.. you didn't even twitch.

He nudges you again, harder, before yanking your head up by your hood just to watch your head loll like a doll would. Your face is pale, like life has been sucked out and when his hand finds a weak pulse that’s when he realises something is very wrong.

——-

Pt2

yayyy angst