Spirit || Ghost x Transmac reader

2

(Third person perspective)

The army vehicles were pulled away from the helicopter, trailing one after the other.
The helicopter let off and ascended, coating the back of the trucks with a thin layer of snow as a result.

Lieutenants Spirit shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. The jeep was bouncing and lurching over the snowy terrain, making it nearly impossible to relax.

He glanced over at the driver, who was staring straight ahead with an expression in which i could not read, he seemed to be completely unaffected by the turbulence.

He sat perfectly still, his hand steady on the wheel and the other leaning back against the arm rest as he navigated the snowy roads.

As he drove, the snow began to fall harder, making it harder and harder to see the road.

Lt. Spirit could see the driver squinting, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. Despite his frustration, Spirit couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the cabin. It was a small, isolated building nestled in the midst of the snowy wilderness. Everyone hopped out of the jeep, grateful to be out of the cramped and uncomfortable vehicle.
Price turned to the driver and gave him a curt nod, before making his way inside the cabin.

Once inside, they quickly shed their coats and boots, stretching out their tired muscles.
Soap pulled out chairs from a dining room table, laying them out in a circular formation around a table.
He reached into his pocket and slapped playing cards to the table.

"Whose down?" Soap says, earning Gaz and Price to be seated.

You pick up your rucksack and sling it over your shoulder with your gun the other hand.

"I'm off to go get changed" Spirit says as he made his way up to one of the many rooms in the house.

He picks a room with a bathroom and a double bed, being perfect for him to have plenty of space, he closed the door behind him. The room itself is cozy and inviting, with the soft glow emitting from the clouded up window.

He rested his rifle against the set of drawers thats right of the door and lowered his bag, opening it to take out his folded clothes. Spirit obviously being in Mexico a few hours prior, he didn't have the chance to pack the most appropriate choice of clothing.

He took out a pair of black cargo pants and a hoodie. His fingers quickly find the soft, fleece-lined jacket, and he quickly begin to peel off his wet and cold shirt.

Looking down at his chest, with a sense of relief, Spirit reaches down and begins to loosen the tight, constricting binder that has been pressing against his chest for far too long. The fabric is damp with the snow that melted through the layers of clothing and clings to his skin, making it difficult to unclip and slip the binder off.

As he takes the first deep breath in what feels like hours, he can feel the tension in their body begin to dissipate. The constriction around their chest eases, and he can feel the blood flowing freely once again.

"What the hell?"