Midnight River

Shouldn't

Gemma's pov
Song inspo Crash by Mokita

I needed something. Something to keep my hands busy and mind from racing. I'd killed a man. Sure, Soap was right, my attacker would have killed me or worse if I hadn't shot him. But despite that it was going to be something that would never leave me.

I'd fought so hard to save people, it was my job but also my passion. I didn't agree with war always, if only because it constantly took people away from me but I knew why it was necessary. Killing the man in my apartment had been necessary but it left me with a nasty taste in my mouth and it wasn't just the blood from my split lip.

As much as I didn't want to see anyone hurt, John's friends and teammates especially, I was glad to have something I could do. As much as I wanted this night to end and try to erase it from my mind I wanted to know what happened, what it meant for John.

"He's got a couple frags from the blast but I don't think they're deeper than muscle." Cadaver didn't hesitate once John and I joined them in my kitchen. Ghost was already sitting atop the island counter, a bit of blood having dropped to the marble.

"The blast?" I questioned, looking over at John. I knew what she meant and was familiar with damage from such grenades but it was entirely different than what I'd gone through and left me confused.

Maybe it was the shock, or the fact that I had to worry about the wounded man in front of me but my brain wasn't putting the fact that our incidents were most likely related despite the differences. My brain didn't want to register why I was targeted.

John didn't say anything, hell he could hardly look at me. His expression was both guilty and angry from what I could see. We'd had slightly heated discussions when it came to our relationship before but I'd never seen his eyes hold such disdain.

Accepting that we weren't going to discuss it now I stepped closer to the wounded man that I wasn't sure I'd ever even spoken to. He'd been there day and night after Cadaver's surgery but besides me giving him updates, I don't think he'd actually ever said anything back.

I pulled a clean towel out from a drawer and gently dabbed at the wounds scattered on his back. He was covered in scars and these would give him new ones. It made me wonder if John had more scars than what I'd seen on his arms and chin. How many times had he been wounded like this? How did these people keep going after being beaten and bruised over and over?

He didn't move even though I knew I was causing him pain as I carefully examined his wounds after cleaning them a bit to get a better look. As I checked each one the other man with them, Price, returned inside.

They talked as if I wasn't there, as if it didn't matter if I heard the details of what had happened and who they thought was behind it. I was so used to things being classified, hidden and secrets. It was safer for me that way, or at least that's what my father and fiance had always said.

I hated being kept in the dark. If I knew, maybe I could have done something. Probably not, but it was something I tried to tell myself.

I listened carefully as they spoke, though I didn't know what any of it meant or who Graves was but it sounded like they assumed he was responsible.

Ghost's wounds weren't fatal, for now as long as the fragments were removed and the wounds were cleaned and stitched. I didn't have the supplies here to do it, not clean anyways. He'd lost a good bit of blood, but I was sure he was going to be okay.

"The fragments aren't deep, you're lucky. But I can't do anything for you here. You need to get to base to have them removed and stitched up." I said to him from behind as I stepped back.  They all looked at me then, as if they'd forgotten I was even there.