#frost cod

Roach: *nodding and listening intensely*

Frost: *cocks head and nods vigorously in response*

Roach: *throws head back as if laughing*

JAMES RAMIREZ. (Stressed out middle child) - He does his job, messy, but he does. - Usually the one trying NOT TO DIE. - Still new and quite slow in some situations. Resistent and strong tho. - Constantly stressed and tired.

ROACH. (Clumsy, chaotic youngest child.) - Some times anxious at missions-, but daaamn this guy is good. - Constantly getting himself in trouble. He can leave them easily tho. - Perfect shooting, great action. - A bit emotional, creates emotional bonds easily.

DEREK FROST. (the sibling who lives far) - One of the greatest soldiers you can find. He will work in harmony and in tune with anyone. - Absolute badass, he will be walking slowly while an explosion happens in the background. - Precise, can deal with hard situations easily. - Emotionally neutral, tho he too creates some strong bonds.

Character: Derek "Frost" Westbrook (MW3)

Theme: Angst

POV: Third Person

Type: Short Story

Words: 1.6k

Other: Implications of Sandman x Frost

Summary: Derek is haunted by his past which caused him to get injuried during an ambush. Sandman worries about him, making sure he is taken care of before going off on a mission he may never return back from.

---

Frost was a silent, obedient soldier under the command of Sandman. Killing the Russians, any hostile in his way to the objective at hand, he was a machine in the eyes of the enemies, but to Sandman, he was a fighting man. He followed Sandman though the streets of Paris, the green toxin fuming around him as he engaged the enemies. He threw the smoke for War Hammer to blast down on the hostiles, seeing the bodies fly and the vehicle destroyed. 

“The entrance is up here,” Sandman called out. The GIGN soldier, Sabre, stood across from Sandman as he took the cap off, showing a ladder that led to the sewer. Frost followed after Sabre, the long climb down made his arms slightly sore. As he made the way down, Sandman brought out the device, checking for toxins, but Frost was more focused on the boy in the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see him staring back at him, the more frightening part of the boy was that it was him. He jumped back into the corner as Sandman squatted down to tell him that it was clear to take off the mask, but the detail tore away from his mind seeing someone be cared for huddled up. 

“Frost?” Sandman grabbed Frost’s shoulder, calming him. “What’s the problem?”

“Has your friend been infected?” Sabre asked, trying to mind his business.

Sandman ignored the stupid question, showing Frost the device. “No sign of contamination, we are clear on taking off the masks, but we must keep our eyes open. Come on.” He helped Frost, seeing the younger man still in a trance, staring at something, but he couldn’t see what it was. “There’s nothing there, Frost.” Frost glanced at him, nodding his head as he leaned away from Sandman’s hold. “Only one light on, we can't draw attention to ourselves.”

“I’ll lead then,” Sabre said, taking point.

Frost couldn’t get the image of himself out of his head. He wanted to forget his home days, it would be better, if something were to happen to him, he didn’t want to think about the consequences of his death. He tailed Sandman, stopping behind him as Sadre opened the door, going deeper down. Soon enough, the march ended up in the catacombs. 

“How many bodies do you think are down here?”

“Let’s hope we don’t end up as one.” Sandman replied to Grinch’s question.

Frost dragged behind, his head aching. He kept himself steady, holding his helmet to calm the pound of his head. He wanted to fall to his knees, but Sadre was surprised by a sudden soldier, shooting him through the metal gate.

“Let’s move forward.”

Frost saw a small glance of hostiles before a flash blinded his vision and his ears rang viciously, worsening his already longing headache. “He’s getting away!” In a second, Frost shot his gun with no intent to kill as he chased down Volk, climbing up the ladder to Paris streets, shooting enemies as Sandman called towards the van. He jumped in the passenger sheet, covering Grinch as he got in the driver. It wasn’t a minute later before Sandman called for his aid in the back. 

He took the larger weapon, shooting down jeeps. “S--” He grabbed Sandman, pulling him deeper in the vehicle as a sudden enemy popped out from the corner as Grinch struggled to get the van moving. “Get it moving!” Sandman ordered, quickly giving his thanks to Frost. 

“On it!” Grinch replied, pushing down the gas pedal. 

As the van continued moving, Frost’s attention was back in the front, shooting down the back tires of Volk’s car. Grinch rammed into the man’s car, and Frost took the moment to kill the solides inside. In the last moment of impact, Sandman got out from the back, dragging the man out from the broken glass of the car.

“Come here!” 

Frost watched with little enthusiasm as his head continued to throb. Grinch patted him on his shoulder, seeing the minimum that he could through Frost’s goggles. “You all right?” Sandman glanced at the quiet soldier before letting the knowledge of Volk in his procession. Frost nodded, dismissing the worry from his squadmate. “Okay, no worries, Frosty.” Frost shockingly saw Grinch smirk at the reaction he had. “Lighten up, we got ‘em, everything is going to be okay, for what it is.”

“Enough chat, we need to get on the move.”

“You heard him.”

***

In the group of other soldiers, waiting for the extraction of Volk, Frost sat down, resting his head on his hand. He closed his eyes, and against his will, his mind began to rest. The sound that knocked him out were the chaotic laughter of privates, he fixed his posture. 

When you fall, you won’t be missed. When he falls, your pain will be even worse.

Frost glanced all around him to see where the voice was coming from, and he saw himself, a boy of the time he wished to never return, pointing at him with a smile. 

Frost! Frost! Frost! Frost! Derek! Derek! Derek! Derek!

Frost pushed his hands onto his ears, his leg bouncing frantically. He could feel the cold touch of his younger self from his clothes, and he jerked his body, falling palm first onto the concrete. He pulled himself together, but the one person he wished didn’t witness his freakout, was the only person to come to his aid. 

“Frost?” Sandman called to him. “What’s going on with you?” Frost was still focused on his younger self staring at him, mocking him. “Damnit Frost, snap out of it!” He felt himself get jolted back into reality. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I can’t be worried about you as well. Pull yourself together, our day isn’t over.” Sandman sighed, pulling Frost to his feet. 

“Here it comes!” A man said. 

Sandman ran over, and Frost followed him. When the transport came closer, it was soon shot out from the sky, crashing bare meters from Frost. “Ah, shit.” Sandman cursed. 

Frost climbed back to where he was, hearing Sandman shout orders. He glanced back at the wreckage and saw the same sinister smile from his younger self. But behind the small figure, a flash was seen and an echo of bullets made all the soldiers pull out their weapons and fall behind cover. Frost wasn’t so lucky, no, he was the target. He felt his body jerk, the pacing of his heart, the sweet adrenaline kept the pain down to a numb feeling, but the blood sweeping through his clothes stated the problem for him. 

“Frost!” He heard Sandman. “No, Frost!” Once the threat was seen, more enemies popping out, the soldiers covered Sandman to safely drag Frost from spraying bullets. “Get over here!” Sandman called out for help. Many soldiers distracing, helping the injury that Frost was mentally unaware of in his haze. He knew he was shot, he didn’t know how many times, nor the damage. 

“Stay with me Frost!” Sandman watched as Frost could barely keep his eyes open. “Keep them open!”

To the order, he strained himself to do so, for the longest time possible, but in the situation at hand, it drained him. “Shit! Frost! Frost!” Frost fell under the bloodlost, seeing Sandman’s stressed out expression before he was out.

***

Sandman turned his head to Frost, who was sleeping restlessly. His chest was exposed, the bandages tight on his body. Frost, through the delirious struggle, wanted to keep his head gear on. Though Sandman pulled down the cloth that covered the younger man’s mouth. Out of the many injuries Frost has sustained, it wouldn’t worry him, but the hesitation that Frost had when he was shot, it worried Sandman to his very core.

He has never seen the reserved man so vulnerable before. The silent man that was calm, even when bullets from everywhere were raining down on him, he was water that never stopped. It was admirable, to everyone that watched. Now, he stopped flowing. 

There was something else on the back of Sandman’s mind. The scars that covered the majority of Frost’s body weren’t from the war, he didn’t want to make assumptions, but there is a reason Frost always asked for his orders. Frost needed them to keep his mind off something else. He didn’t know what the younger man was running away from, but he wished to help rather than distract the bigger issue. 

“How is he?” Truck asked. 

“He stopped bleeding everywhere.” Grinch spoke up from behind Truck.

“Oh, state the obvious.”

“Enough,” Sandman examined. “We have bigger issues.”

“What else is bigger than the Eiffel Tower falling down?”

“We are called to help out Price.” Sandman told.

“We can’t do that, not with the condition Frost is in.”

“He will have to stay.” 

“The last time you left Frost alone he ended up hurting himself. Who’s going to watch him?”

“Gator will.” Sandman said. “When we leave, he’ll be here along with others that will check his condition.”

“Are you sure?” Grinch asked, pushing Truck aside.

“Yes,” Sandman replied. 

“Then let’s suit up, huh, Truck?”

“Sure.” He followed after Grinch. 

Sandman, before he trailed, walked up to Frost, creasing his face with his finger. “See you on the other side, Frost.” When he pulled back his arm, Frost weakly gripped his wrist. “Frost?” 

“S’man.” Frost mumbled. “Where ‘ou goin’?”

“Nothing to worry about, get some rest.” Sandman patted gently on Frost’s shoulder.

One look back, Sandman knew Frost was asleep again, and he made his way out.

He didn't know what today would led him, he knew the risk of his life was death, and that is exactly what he got.

Frost lost his mind in grief.

He lost everything that day.

His younger self still haunting him as he isolated himself from the outside world.

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Stand Alone Stories/One-Shots:

A Man Can Never Rest: Derek is haunted by his past which caused him to get injuried during an ambush. Sandman worries about him, making sure he is taken care of before going off on a mission he may never return back from.