#wraith!ghost

“It’ll be fine, Si.”

“It’s just a quick recovery Op. There and back in no time.”

“I’ll be done ‘n dusted before you’re finished with the rookies’ PT.”

The words echoed in the back of his head. Distorted by the chill that climbed up the back of his spine as he felt the shadows bleeding from his skin. The world around him barely registered, the veil between nightmares and reality blurring together until he watched Roba’s men cower in front of him. Vaguely he was aware of the warmth leeching into his mask, a pressure along his gums building until elongated fangs pressed through the skin.

He could feel the fabric tear beneath his fingers, talons forcing their way through his nailbeds until they hooked through the material in front of him. It was impossible to see through the red smoke surrounding him, a desperate rage fueled by vitriol and fear pushing him through the barriers in front of him. He tried to remember where he was – what had sparked the anger searing through his bones.

Flashes of a broken smile, torn lips pulled back into what was supposed to be reassurance. Slate grey eyes standing out in horrific contrast to the broken blood vessels surrounding them. Dark bruises and discolored skin. Tattered clothes with fresh crimson soaking into the material, sticking painfully against new and old wounds with each movement. It hit too close to home.

Too close to Coahuila.

To Roba.

“Ghost-! Wait-.”

The words echoed around him, familiar but aggressive.

Worried.

             Panicked.

They were in danger.

She was in danger.

The aggression flared back to life. Wrath and violence cut through his flesh until it sunk hooks into muscle. A mind numbing cold settled across his bones, the now familiar taste of death heavy across his tongue as the shadows leaked from his lungs. The darkness was familiar and safe – power that had saved them when nothing else could.

Intoxicating and freeing.

They wouldn’t go back.

“We lost contact with Alpha Team.” Muscles coiled along his spine, jaw clenching until he tasted copper at the back of his throat. “Response Team is MIA.”

He felt bone beneath his palm, teeth biting into the flesh with each blow. The cold metallic scent was overpowered by rot. Sulfur and ash filled his lungs until he felt the dark clouds permeate his skull, pressure building behind his eyes with each swipe he took at the phantoms. He could hear Roba’s voice now, mocking and condescending as the man sneered down at him.

Taunts countered by a soft caustic sarcasm. A gentle warmth surrounded by jagged barbs. The anger was palpable – familiar. It spoke to a shared understanding. They were the same. Shadows curled inward, tearing through flesh and bone until they hooked into the soul. Gnashing teeth and jagged claws biting into the essence of their target.

“Simon!”

The voice tore through the darkness like a beacon. A searing spotlight targeting the stilled heart beneath the shadows and death. A quiet warmth blossomed amidst the blizzard. Twisting and churning until he could feel the ice melting from his ribs. The surrounding shadows shuddered. Coiling vipers melting back against the ground, basking in the sun as the figure moved forward.

He became acutely aware of the viscera embedded beneath his claws. The metallic tang of blood heavy in the air as something soft ghosted across his cheeks to settle along his jaw. The crimson mist surrounding him slowly faded, darkness bleeding back into the corners of his mind as the sun settled across his skin. The lingering shadows around him hummed at the familiar comfort, heat buzzing along his spine as grey pools clashed with black. The monochrome calm before a storm staring back at him through the waves of aggression and fear.

“Simon-.”

She was solid now.

Real.

A physical manifestation of patience and forgiveness reaching up to counter the manifestation of malice and hate. Her hold was absolute. Fingers hooked with a gentle resolution around his jaw. An unyielding tether that pulled him further and further out of the storm until his forehead rested against something solid.

“Hey, hey… Need you back with us, yeah?”

Her voice was quiet. Words spoken so softly he was afraid they’d shatter if he moved too quickly. The pressure against his forehead continued, a firm reassurance that the threat had passed.

“They’re gone now, Si.” She assured. “It’s over- We’re safe.”

Black recedes into an endless forest. Brown clashing with grey as the man resurfaces, the wraith lingering so closely he could feel its breath enveloping them. Inky black shadows danced around them, coiling like protective vipers until the world outside was hidden away. Somewhere beyond the smoke and shadow he could sense the other occupants of the room, anxiety buzzing through their bones as they lingered.

He expected the same fear from the grey eyed woman. A caustic voice pouring venom into his ear with each dull thud against his ribs. Despite the voices – in spite of the voices – the woman remained calm. Worry and anxiety hooking painfully into his chest as she clung to his frame. Gentled reassurances passed bruised lips in waves. They were barely a whisper, warmth sparking anew in his chest with the realization.

It was just for him.

Images of a broken body flickered behind his eyes. The devastation replaced by wide grins and gleaming teeth. Elbows digging playfully into his side as her smaller frame moved around the shared kitchen in their den – home. Flickers of irritated glares and frowns that didn’t match gleaming eyes. The clean scent of spices and flowering hibiscus chasing away the smell of rotten graves and heavy blood.

“Y’with me, Si?”

“…Always…”

The assurance went deeper than the promise they’d made all those years ago. An oath spoken in dark stillness before they were dragged into the grave. It was unyielding and unbending, one of the natural truths that they’d built on their shared foundation. There was nowhere either could go that the other wouldn’t follow. Something recognized even by the harsh malevolence of the wraith trapped beneath their ribs.

Her eyes crinkled at his response. Relief flooding her features until it washed away the lingering worry, frame. Her hands shifted from his cheeks, ghosting across his neck until they hooked behind his shoulders. A tired sigh escaped her as she buried her face in his shoulder, body sagging against his. A frown pulled at his lips, arms encasing her smaller frame as she muttered quietly into his neck.

Simon had lost control.

She had expected him to snap to some extent. He’d bordered on over-protective since he’d pulled them from the grave in Coahuila. But the wraith in front of her was positively feral. It wasn’t Simon tearing through the enemy right now –

It was Ghost.

A physical manifestation of all the man’s fear and hate and malice. A creature born of desperation and survival now tearing through soldiers with such lethality that it made what was once a specialized force nothing more than victims. The distance between their skills too large to be considered adversaries.

They never stood a chance.

“Lass – stay back!”

She knew Soap meant well.

He was just looking out for her. Just as desperate to reach through the swirling darkness to the man trapped within the wraith. But she knew better – she’d been there. Trapped beneath her ribs sat the same malignant rage. A ravenous aggression that would raze cities to the ground to protect the precious few she clung to.

“Simon!”

She lunged towards him, fingers curling against the Scotsman’s arm as he hauled her backwards. She couldn’t feel the ache of her wounds. Pain dulling as her attention zeroed in on the feral wraith tearing through the enemy in front of them. Panic built in her chest, throat twisting painfully as she threw herself forward.

She knew what he was seeing.

She recognized the shuttering breaths and swirling smoke. Eyes that passed over them without really seeing them. She could feel the mounting fear in her skin. A cold desperation settling deeper in her bones with each wide arching slash of incorporeal claws. She could practically hear Roba’s jeering words and the suffocating darkness of the grave.

They were running out of time.

“Simon-!”

Her elbow dug into the werewolf’s stomach. His grip loosening just enough that she was able to surge forward. The shadows struck out on instinct. Ghosting across her skin with all the aggression of an evening breeze. Despite the vitriol crackling at the surface, she was able to slip through the swirling darkness.

Recognized.

She could feel the familiar pressure along her spine. Breath leaving her in thick grey clouds as she bolted through the shadows. A forgotten heaviness settled in her ribs, chill causing a shiver to break out across her skin as she reached out towards the rampaging wraith. He’d turned towards her at her approach, black eyes unseeing until her fingers settled across his jaw.

His feral state made him taller. Frame dwarfing hers until she was forced to roll onto her toes to reach him. The pads of her fingers settled gently as she pulled his face down towards hers, forehead resting against the chilled flesh of his. Grey intertwined with black, old wounds leaking fading smoke that was quickly suffocated by the swirling mass surrounding her.

“Hey, hey…” She cooed quietly, forcing her words to remain calm. “Need you back with us, yeah?”

She prayed they reached the man within the wraith. Eyes clenching shut when the shadows shuttered around her. Anxiety spiked as her grip tightened. She knew the rest of the pack was afraid – not necessarily of the feral state but of the possibilities.

An uncontrolled wraith could be devastating.

Was devastating.

There was no end to the possibilities.

“They’re gone now, Si.” She felt herself mutter, eyes sliding close as a wave of fatigue threatened to overwhelm her. “It’s over- we’re safe.”

It was a quiet reassurance.

A promise.

The shadows shuttered around her again. The darkness that had leaked from his lungs began to fade. Inky black slowly swallowed by white as brown orbs turned towards her. The shadows enveloping her hissed, thick arms settling across her back while large hands grasped at the back of her shoulders. Simon’s frame was visible again, all but curling around the battered woman as he took shuttering breaths between clenched teeth.

The chill of death was melting from his bones, muscles relaxing with a painstakingly slowness as the darkness continued to melt back beneath his skin. Without the smoke to obscure it the battle sat openly across his frame. Viscera and gore clinging to his uniform and skin, painting a macabre scene across new and old scars. The heavy metallic scent was overpowering, almost suffocating the familiar spices and smoke she’d come to expect.

“Y’with me, Si?”

It was always the same question.

Simple at the surface but with deeper meaning that was lost to the onlookers outside of their orbit. Patience and warmth tethering them to the present. Waiting unflinchingly as they broke down feral instincts and bloodlust. Peeling back the raw panic and anger that accompanied long buried memories and living nightmares.

Bloodshot brown eyes settled on her own, the far off expression slowly melting away. A jagged frown carved itself across his lips, brows furrowing as he took in each new bruise that marred her skin. For the first time since the conflict began, he was looking at her, gaze no longer trapped behind the red haze of broken bodies and desperate anger.

“…always…”

The confirmation rumbled from his chest, the assurance reverberating through her bones when his arms tightened their hold. It was an absolute; spoken with the same confidence he’d used all those years ago. Unshakable even in the face of the harshest atrocities war had to offer. More than a promise or an oath but a core belief carved into their ribs.

And she believed him.

She could feel the relieved smile curving across her lips, eyes crinkling as her shoulders sagged. The lingering worry melted away, hand lightly tapping his cheek before they slid down his neck to hook behind his shoulders. The fatigue seeped into the space fear had left behind, a tired sigh pulled from her chest as she tucked her face into his shoulder. Simon’s arms encased her, all but wrapping around her frame as she sagged against him.

“Might’ve been a lil off on that return date.” She muttered into his neck, ignoring the way his shoulders rocked with a sarcastic scoff. “Though technically I didn’t specify which PT class.”

“Whatever you say, Luv.”

“Tha’s what I thought.”