Callsign: Cat (Ghost X READER/OC)

Ch 4: Hangovers and Misery

While Cat was outside dealing with her two companions, Ghost tried to make Kate and John more comfortable. But Cat had limited space to put them so they wound up on the couch, with no complaints. However, Soap and Gaz had plenty of complaints.

"Ghost I don't wanna go. Leave me on the floor, it's cold there." Soap groaned.

"What he said," Gaz mumbled.

Ghost just huffed and continued to drag them up the stairs of Cat's home as both kept making comments. They were sicker than dogs, which might be from Cat's driving and the mix of alcohol, but Ghost warned them not to drink too much but they did so anyways. He wasn't much for talking, but he did feel the need to let Cat know that Soap and Gaz were tucked away, and to ask questions. Her file was too much like his and she deflected more questions than she answered. They barely knew her and yet they have to put trust in her that they'll make it through the night.

Cat was seated at the table when he returned downstairs, having managed to put both Gaz and Soap in the same bed with minimal resistance.

"I put both Soap and Gaz in the bed upstairs." Ghost spoke up, Cat turned to look at him.

"Cool. Help yourself to whatever I have."

"When did you notice we were being followed? How did you learn to drive like that?"
Cat sighed, "I noticed pretty early. I knew it wasn't Hound or Birdie, they don't own anything like an SUV. And how I learned to drive like that, I was taught how to drive when I was 14. It was by a couple ex-cons, I had apparently helped one of their kids and they returned the favor by teaching me how to drive and how to lose people. A shockingly useful skill."

"Ex-cons?" Why would someone let their child be around convicts, ex or not, he couldn't help but wonder.

"I used to live on the east coast. I lived in a pretty poor town too so crime was pretty high. Doesn't help there was a large homeless population."
"Doesn't seem pleasant."
"It wasn't. It was a lot to just survive. The only thing that could guarantee your safety was knowing how to fight. Sometimes you had to do awful things just to survive the night."

"Like what?"

"Things like murder. It's not like England where there are systems in place that are funded properly. Here and my hometown have no safety net. If we were civillians and we lost our homes, we would be up creek. Small town homeless shelters are over capacity and low income housing have a wait list for years. Motels are constantly booked due to families having to move into them or live on the street. Cops don't help either. If you were lucky you'd get arrested, which would guarentee a place to sleep and food, most of the time they turned a blind eye because they were barely scrapping by."

"So how old where you?"

"When I was what?"
"When you became homeless? When you first had to kill someone?"
"I was barely 10, I was 9 when I was put in the system. I was 12 when I had to first kill someone, because it was that or." Ghost watched her, she refused to look him in the eye now.

"Or what?"
Cat looked away from him, "I think you could figure it out."

Ghost could feel his blood run cold, her refusal to look at him was all the confirmation he needed.

"I understand."

Cat looked at him, confused, "What?"

"I was around that age when I saw someone die. Sure I didn't kill them, but seeing someone die that young is changing." Ghost wasn't the best at comfort, but even he could tell this was something that Cat didn't want to talk about.

"Nothing we can do about it now." Cat sighed. Ghost watched her as she turned to watch John and Kate. Undoubtedly, this was likely a conversation she'll want to pretend didn't happen.