EDIT: Just wanted to give credit to the inspiration for this ficlet. I follow SStrayMr on Twitter and TikTok. I love their art. If you look them up, just know they are MDNI and DDDNE.
I'll link their TikTok video to this so you can see what im gettin at.
Here's some angst and sadness for you. It's right after the events of Struck Down.
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They got Ajax out of there, but not in the way they were supposed to.
The exfil chopper is loud, but itβs nothing compared to the silence sitting heavy in Keeganβs chest. Heβs still holding Ajax, arms locked around him as if the warmth of his body could somehow seep back into Ajaxβs cooling skin.
Merrick encourages Logan and Hesh to leave him alone. They know better. Keeganβs mask is still on, but he canβt breathe behind it. He canβt see past the tears gathering hot behind his eyes. Keegan being quiet isn't unusual, but the aura around the silence is what unnerves the brothers.
Keeganβs hands are still shaking.
Theyβre stained with blood, Ajaxβs blood, and no matter how many times he wipes them on his pants, it wonβt come off. Itβs under his nails, in the lines of his palms, in the cracks of his skin, and he can feel it pulsing there with every thud of his racing heart.
He doesnβt even remember getting to the chopper. One moment he was tearing down that stadium gate with the Humvee, the next he was carving a path through the chaos, bullets whipping past, just to get to him.
And now Ajax is lying limp in his arms, heavier than Keegan remembers, head rolling against his shoulder, eyes closed, a small bit of dignity Keegan offered. Ajaxβs face was battered, breath already gone.
Keegan lowers him to the floor of the chopper with trembling care, as if putting him down too fast might hurt him. He sinks to his knees, boots scraping against the metal, and for a moment he just stares.
βCome on, man,β Keegan whispers, voice raw, throat tight, βyou donβt get to check out like this.β Keeganβs voice is raw, cracking around the edges, words sticking in his throat as he looks down at Ajaxβs face. bloodied, bruised, swollen from the beatings, but still Ajax.
Keegan brushes a streak of blood away from Ajaxβs temple, thumb trembling as it passes over the scar they laughed about back in Kandahar when they were too young and too stupid to care about how close they came to dying.
βYou remember that night in Vegas, huh?β he sighs, trying to bypass the emotions clawing up his throat. βJust out of boot camp.β Keegan whispers, eyes scanning Ajaxβs still face. βYou got so drunk you tried to pick a fight with a bouncer twice your size, and I had to haul your ass out of there.β
He gives a small, broken laugh.
βYou were still yelling at him as I dragged you back to the bar. Calling him a βFat Joe lookinβ ass motherfuckerβ like it was the best insult you ever came up with.β
His breath hitches, chest rising and falling too fast, the noise of the rotors blurring into a ringing in his ears.
βGod, Alexβ¦β His voice cracks fully now, Ajaxβs real name falling from his lips like a prayer, like a plea. βYou were supposed to be there when this was over. We were supposed to get out together.β
A sob rips free, sudden and sharp, cutting through the cold air in the hold. Keegan bows his head, pressing his forehead to Ajaxβs, trying to remember the warmth of him, the sound of his laugh, the way he always had Keeganβs back without question.
βI love you, man,β Keegan whispers, tears sliding down his dirt-streaked face, dripping onto Ajaxβs cheek, mixing with the blood. βI-I never said it enough. You were my brother. My family.β
He squeezes Ajaxβs shoulders, wishing, praying, bargaining with anything that will listen to give him back, to let him open his eyes and give one of those crooked, tired smiles, to crack a joke about how soft Keegan is being.
But thereβs nothing. Just the soft, empty hiss of the chopperβs cabin, the quiet rattle of Ajaxβs dog tags against his vest, the weight of a promise Keegan couldnβt keep.
His mind spins, every emotion slamming into him at once. grief, rage, regret. His brain short-circuiting as it claws for any fucking scrap of sanity to hold onto.
βGoddammit, Alexβ¦β he rasps, using the name only the oldest Ghosts remember. His throat burns as he swallows, tears pressing hot at the backs of his eyes. The name breaks him, cracks something deep in his chest that heβs kept locked down for years.
βYou stupid-β His voice cracks, anger bubbling up sharp and bitter, tearing through his chest because itβs easier to be angry than to drown.
βYou stupid, stubborn bastard!β Keeganβs fist comes down hard on the metal floor, the clang echoing, making Ajaxβs limp form jump slightly. βWhyβd you let them get you, huh? Whyβd you let them take you?β
Keeganβs eyes stay locked on Ajaxβs face, holding there, unblinking. His chest heaves as he stares, his gaze tracing over the bruises and dried blood, the lashes split across Ajaxβs brow, the way his jaw is slack in a way it never was in life.
His breath hitches, chest heaving, his vision swimming as he looks down at Ajax, waiting for him to open his eyes, to roll them and say, βYeah, yeah, K.P., calm down.β
βYou werenβt supposed to get caught!β Keegan shouts, his voice breaking, tears finally slipping free, tracking down the grime on his cheeks. βYou were supposed to fight harder! You were supposed to wait for me!β
His hands clench in Ajaxβs vest, pulling him closer, as if he could drag him back to life by sheer fury alone.
βYou assholeβ¦β he whispers, voice dropping to a tremble, the anger crumbling under the weight of grief. βYou absolute assholeβ¦ How could you leave me like this?β
His forehead drops to Ajaxβs, tears dripping onto bloodied skin, mixing with the dirt and sweat and memories.
βI drove a fucking Humvee up through a goddamn gate for you,β Keegan sobs, the words catching, twisting in his throat. βI-I got there, man. I got to you. I was there, I was fucking thereβ¦β
His hands shake violently, thumb brushing along the split in his eyebrow. βI love you, man,β Keegan breathes, the words spilling out now, unstoppable, unstoppable like the tears streaking down his face, collecting in the stitches of the knit balaclava the ghosts all wear. βYou were my brother. You are my brother.β
βIβm so sorry,β Keegan breathes, his voice nearly gone. βIβm so fucking sorry.β
βThis isnβt how itβs supposed to go,β Keegan says, louder now, anger and grief twisting together until it feels like heβs choking. βYou hear me? This isnβt how itβs supposed to fucking go!β
He rips off his mask, throwing it across the cabin. It hits the wall and drops, forgotten.
Underneath, Keeganβs face is streaked with sweat and grime, tears cutting through the dark lines of his smeared eyeblack, leaving jagged rivers down his cheeks. The black paint, once sharp and clean. a tool to make him look more like the Ghost, more like the weapon the world needed him to be, is smudged now, mixed with dirt, sweat, and tears, making him look more like a scared, grieving man than the predator heβs supposed to be.
His jaw trembles, lips parted on shallow, broken breaths he canβt steady. His eyes, red-rimmed and glassy, dart over Ajaxβs face like heβs memorizing it for the last time, tears falling no matter how hard he tries to swallow them back.
Heβs always worn the mask to scare the world, to keep people at a distance, to hide the parts of himself that were still too soft, too breakable. The mask was part of the Ghost, the intimidation, the legend. But here, with Ajax, thereβs no one left to scare, no reason to hide. Ajax was the only one who saw the man under the mask, the man under the paint, and never turned away.
Now, with Ajax gone, the mask means nothing.
And the face that remains is raw, streaked with tears and ruined paint, as Keegan leans over the only brother he ever truly let himself have, no longer the Ghost. Just a man shattered by the weight of loss
His vision blurs as tears fall, splattering onto Ajaxβs vest, mixing with the blood already there, the black and red soaking together into something ugly and real.
Keegan presses a shaking hand to Ajaxβs chest, like heβs trying to feel a heartbeat that isnβt there, trying to will it to start again, just for a moment, just long enough to take it all back.
βI love you, man,β Keegan breathes, his voice breaking, shoulders trembling. βDo you know that? Huh? I-I love you, you idiot. Youβre my brother, youβve always been-β
His words dissolve into a sob he tries to swallow, but it rips out of him anyway, sharp and raw, echoing in the empty cabin. He folds over Ajaxβs body, clutching him tight, burying his face against his shoulder, shoulders shaking violently as he cries.
βI wasnβt supposed to lose you,β he whispers into the fabric of Ajaxβs vest. βWe were supposed to get out. Go home. Drink shitty beer and laugh about this one day. You were gonna be Uncle Alex to my kids, man, you-you were gonna be there.β
Keeganβs hands clench, gripping Ajaxβs vest so hard his knuckles crack, trying to hold him here, trying to keep him from slipping away completely.
βIβm so sorry,β Keegan sobs, the words spilling out in a broken flood. βIβm so fucking sorry. I shouldβve been faster, shouldβve been smarter, I shouldβve saved you.β
βPleaseβ¦ please come back,β Keegan whispers, the words so soft theyβre almost lost beneath the thrum of the rotors. βPlease, Alexβ¦β
But thereβs nothing. Just the low rumble of the chopper, the scent of blood and gunpowder, and the cold weight of a man who gave everything.
Keegan stays there, rocking slightly, clutching Ajax close, letting himself shatter because thereβs no one here to see, no mask to hide behind, no orders to bark.
Just grief. Just love. Just the emptiness of a world that kept moving even when it took his brother from him. His shoulders shake as he pulls Ajax closer, rocking him gently the way you would a child, the way you would the last person on earth who made you feel like you werenβt alone.
And for the first time in a long, long time, Keegan doesnβt try to be the strong one.
He just cries. Crooning for a blood brother that left him alone. Outside, the sunrise cuts across the horizon, orange bleeding into blue, but Keegan doesnβt see it. All he sees is the memory of a man who stood beside him for almost twenty years, gone in a day, gone in a breath.
And for the first time in a long time, Keegan weeps openly, maskless, pressing his forehead to his brotherβs as the world moves on without Ajax in it.
