Guilt-Tripped Pt.2
TW: Canon-typical violence Part 1 part 3 Pairing: Ghostxreader(ish) Summary: The mission does not go according to plan
Wc: 1758 A/N: The fights scenes are fast-paced/rushed intentionally, I was trying to give off the feel of combat, if it did not work please let me know and I'll fix it :)
You were off your game, that much was clear. Not only was this mission located in your mother country, but the base you were clearing was one you had been “trained” in. You were anxious, and you knew Ghost could tell. But, true to form, he did not pry. That was one of the reasons you liked him. Everyone else would have asked questions but Ghost didn’t. He respected your privacy, understood that not everything is meant to be shared.
“Ghost, how copy?”
“Solid. Moving in.”
“Copy.” You unsling your gun from your shoulder, following Ghost into the abandoned building. You cover his six as you clear the building, finger hovering over the trigger of your gun. The ghosts contained in the walls were dogging your footsteps, begging for you to turn and listen to them.
“Again”
“You’ll break them.”
“Only the weak.”
“No, please!”
“Do it again!”
“Do not defy me.”
“Again.”
“Y/N.” You snap back to attention, “Buildn’s clear.”
“Ay. Let’s look for the intel then.”
“It’ll go fas’er if we split up.”
“Ah…I guess.”
“Stay frosty.” With that Ghost heads up the stairs, leaving you to pray he doesn't find anything he’s not supposed to. You take a deep breath and turn away, searching the rooms more intently this time, on the lookout for files and a USB drive instead of hostiles.
The first room has nothing, just some rotting pieces of wood that used to be furniture. Still, something about it leaves you feeling deeply unsettled. You step out and head to the room across the hall, your hairs standing on end. The second room is basically the same, as are the third and fourth. And fifth. And sixth. After the final room reveals nothing, you head upstairs to help Ghost.
The stairs creak under the weight of you and your gear, the sound adding to the already eerie atmosphere. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to walk through the hallways that haunt your nightmares.
Ghost is in the first room you come to, his face lit up by a computer that somehow is still working. Alarm bells ring in the back of your brain, but you ignore them, instead focusing on the video that is playing.
“Again.”
The video is grainy, but you know the scene well. 3 girls stand side by side, guns in hand.
“Again.”
They drop to the ground, legs swinging around before standing.
“Again.”
They fire simultaneously, one loud gunshot echoing through the room.
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Aga-
The video cuts out, but you still see what happened next.
“-in.” You are faster this time, the girls next to you running out of stamina. You had been at this for hours, a constant stream of crouch, stand, fire, reload. You drop into a crouch, sweep your legs around, and come up, you and the girl to your left firing at the same time. You don’t even flinch as the girl to your right is dragged away.
“Again.”
Crouch, stand, fire, reload.
“Again”
Crouch, stand, fire, reload.
“Again.”
Crouch, stand, fire, reload.
“Again.”
Crouch, stand, fire, reload. And once again, you are faster. The girl to your left is dragged away, leaving only you. Your palms are blistered and your knees are torn open, but you won.
“Y/n.” You stare at the target in front of you, breathing hard.
“Y/n!” You raise your head, searching for the woman in charge of your training. Except the voice calling for you is male, and…British?
“Y/n!” A hand touches your shoulder and you don’t think, just react. Your gun is buried between the persons ribs before your vision even clears.
“Fuck. Ghost I…fuck. I’m s-fuck.” You stagger back, blinking hard as you holster the weapon. Ghost has his own weapon trained on you, though his finger is not on the trigger.
“What in th’ bloody hell was that?” He hisses. You inhale, exhale, and shove your emotion down where they won’t bother you.
“I am sorry.” You say softly, “I zoned out and you…scared me.” He doesn’t say anything in response, just grunts and shakes his head, holstering his gun. You hold your breath as he stares at you with an indiscernible look in his eyes.
“We'll talk when we get t’ base.” He says finally. You nod, fingers trembling as you follow him into the next room. You hadn’t noticed when you were clearing it before but the rooms up here are much more preserved. This room is empty, save for a barre attached to the wall, the one way mirror above it shattered into a million pieces.
The girls dance in unison, repeating the moves over and over and over again. Your tutu makes your skin itch, and your toes are bleeding from the hours of non-stop practice. Still, you don’t complain. Even at seven years old, you know better than to voice your sorrows.
“Good y/n. Again.” Legs burning, feet aching, skin itching, you begin the routine again. You bring your leg up but your ankle rolls, your form wobbling.
“Oh y/n. I had such high hopes for you.” Your body is thrown across the room, stars dancing across your vision as the acrid smell of smoke fills your senses. Wait…smoke?
“Y/n!” You inhale sharply, looking up at Ghost. But he’s not there. In his place is an aging man with a road face and short beard.
“Dreykov.” He’s older, much older, but you would recognize him anywhere. You look around the room, trying to find any sign of Ghost. The simple movement sends waves of pain through your skull, makes your vision blurry. But you've operated in much worse condition before.
“Where’s Ghost?” Your voice sounds oh so far away.
“Hello to you too darling.” You shiver almost imperceptibly at his voice, “Why don’t you use that pretty little head of yours and tell me?” You can barely hear him over the high-pitched whine bouncing around your skull. Oh, right, your ears are ringing. Ringing, why are your ears ringing? You blink hard, taking in your surroundings. The room is filled with smoke, the remnants of the outer wall scattered across the room, the result of an explosion. Something sticky trickles down your face, dripping into your eyes as you put two-and-two together.
You and Ghost had walked into the room, you’d been violently thrown into a flashback, and while you were off in la-la land, Dreykov must have blown through the wall. But that still didn’t explain where Ghost was. You inhale slowly, trying to focus your vision. And-there! You spot a hole in the floor, and the only thing you can think is that Ghost fell through.
Later you’ll blame it your disoriented state for forgetting he was there, but really you just didn’t want to face Dreykov alone. You leave him in the room, leave him to escape with the intel you'd come to collect, and sprint down to the first level to find Ghost. You jump over fallen bits of ceiling, dodging debris as the building slowly falls apart around you.
Ghost is prone on the ground, a Widow prowling around his body. They always did like to play with their food.
Without thinking you launch into the fray, tackling the Widow over his back. It is a short but intense fight, serving as a distraction as Ghost forces himself up. It ends when she throws a sloppy punch towards your face. You grab her wrists, yanking her forward and sweeping her legs out from underneath her. She hits the ground at the same moment you unload your weapon into her chest.
“You always did think you were better than us.” You spin around as you reload, swaying slightly as your vision blurs again. Another widow, one you failed to notice, stands behind Ghost, a gun pressed at his head.
“I did not.” Your voice is calm and even, not betraying your inner distress as your eyes dart around the room as you try to find a way to get her away from him.
“Yes you did.” The widow snarls. She draws another weapon, slamming the butt of it into Ghost's skull with startling force, leaving him to collapse like a ragdoll.
“We were always second best, always the ones punished, always the ones in trouble. Nothing compared to you.” You begin to circle each other, your eyes trained on the gun she has aimed at you. The motion makes you sick, and you can’t hear anything over your focus on staying awake.
You blink, and suddenly the widow is in front of you. Just as she wraps her finger around the trigger Ghost, who'd be faking his apparent unconsciousness, tackles her. You can see how the scene will play out, and it doesn't end pretty.
You throw yourself at the Widow Just as she plants her gun in Ghosts chest, sending both of you flying across the room. She ends up on top you so you buck your hips, sending her flying forward. You're moving on pure instinct at this point, to dizzy to think.
You wrap you arm around hers and swing your leg over her side, using the momentum to flip positions so that you're on top. You draw your firearm, but are a millisecond too slow.
She flings you off, your skull bouncing of the pavement as you fall to the side. You manage to keep a grip on your weapon but God's does your head hurt.
You blink yourself back into awareness, coming too just in time to watch Ghost grapples with the Widow for he gun. Ghost may be good, but the Widow is great.
You are too dizzy too see straight, but that's no problem. The Institute had made sure you could shoot a target blindfolded, so you close your had around your 9 mil, raise it front of you, and fire.
You are awarded with a female cry of pain, a thud, and silence.
"You...solid?" You wheeze, gun still held tight in your hand.
"Aye. Y'...y' no' lookin' t' gud there." You can barely hear him, swaying slightly where you stand. Gods your head hurts.
You step forward, practically collapsing into Ghost. You can feel his heart beating rapidly, and you think he's talking to you, but you can’t hear him. Though blurry, your eyes are drawn to the Widow laying in a pool of blood, her brown hair pillowing her head.
It makes you sad, almost, to see someone who didn't get saved. Survivors guilt is what your court-therapist had called it. You thinks it was a load of bullshit but it's not like...is she moving?
You flip around Ghost without thinking, unloading your weapon on the Widow just as her bullet pierces your flesh.
tbc
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