For Whom the Bell Tolls(Call of Duty: Cold War Adler x Bell!Reader)

It Was Just a Dream

"You're still one of us."

You clenched your gloved hand as you stared down at it, your other hand to your throbbing abused eye. You heard Sims make the call for Russ—Adler—your CO, to Washington. Gone and already preparing for the onslaught they all shall do, due to your words.

"—from the safety of Solovetsky..."

Your teacher—no, not a teacher, never was, never could be—was talking to Hudson. Rushed and tense due to your words he managed to get out of you. His grip tight on the brick cell phone as he stood at the desk outside of where you were. Slightly pacing back and forth, you think his brows were furrowed deep and eyes under those sunglasses—it was a shield, a shadow to his true thoughts, his eyes did not match his warm, friendly tone—tight.

Your eye throbbed, making you wince as you leaned against the gurney—the gurney they forced you in, who knows how many times they forced you on it and you wouldn't remember—you unclenched the gloved hand that still somehow felt his touch. Even through barriers.

But he has a way of taking down walls. Forcing it open whether via kicking or an abundant of C4's.

It wasn't just a mere wall though...

"Bell, open the door."

"Bell."

That's not your name.

Nonetheless, you turned without thinking, seeing Park with her arms crossed, a touch of concern on her face as she blocked the entrance of the office. Soot and dirt and scratches still upon her person from Cuba, since it was merely an hour ago. An hour ago since—

"Hurry up, Bell!"

Lazar, who knew your favorite food items when he got takeout for everyone. Who'd let you partake from his own plate to try something new. Because there's no point in being greedy, he would say, memories with food should be light and new dishes should be enjoyed.

"What's wrong?" Park questioned with that calm voice of hers as you stayed silent. "It's best to prepare your belongings now, we're set to leave within two hours. Maybe even one if Adler has anything to say about it."

If you know anything, which isn't much at all, he always gets what he wants.

"Did he know?" You questioned, eyes distant as you stared over Park's shoulder as you watched your fr—not a friend, Adler was lying to you—move towards where Lazar always stood around and ate his Chinese or helped Sims out with equipment.

Park blinked, thrown for a moment at the question but keeping her composure. She always does.

You wish you were like her, yet at the same time, you want to hate her for it. You want to hate a lot of things as of this very moment. Yet, you were stuck. Some sort of strange Limbo where you feel numb to it all—Vietnam wasn't real, what else wasn't, they never trusted you, you were a mere dog eager for his approval and pats—you were numb. To it all.

"I knew I could count on you."

"Who?" Park asked.

"Lazar," you explained simply, tone distant as you stared ahead only to turn away when aviators glinted towards you. Your ears prickling with heat despite yourself only to grow in fervor due to your shameful acquiesce of being caught. Like a child. "...did he know what the both of you did?" To me, was left unsaid. "Did everyone?" You don't think you can take it if Mason and Woods knew too.

You were staring at the ground, surely looking pathetic and pitiful—hand raising when your eye throbbed again. So you missed when Park took a meaningful glance back over her shoulder and turned back towards you. Entering the office fully and closing the door behind her, moving towards the back of the room and grabbing something. Only for your gaze to see Park's hand with gauze, your head lifting and questioning as her lips were up kindly.