Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Good reasons

"Alright, final meeting on Friday before departure,” Price gathered the papers that were laid out in front of him, “Should be an easy one, gentlemen.”

“Won’t make it on Friday. I’ll see you at the destination.” Ghost murred before taking a swig of his drink.

The rest of the 141 glanced over to him in confusion. Ghost would never miss out. Never.

“How come?” Soap scoffed, poking Ghost’s arm with his elbow “…, don’t tell me that in this lifetime I’ll see the L.T. chicken out?”

His “joke” was followed by thick silence. Not even a scoff could be heard. Not even a crumb of a giggle. Even Gaz just awkwardly took his beer and drank quietly.

“Got duties.”

Price knew better than to poke through the lieutenants privacy. He knew how good of a soldier Ghost was and if he says that he won’t make it he’ll have good reasons. No questions asked.

“This is your only duty, you’ve said that yourself in the past,” MacTavish continued stirring the fire

“…, is it the Missus?” a provoking grin dressed the Scot’s lips.

Ghost just shut his eyes in irritation.
Would this man ever stop getting on his nerves? Frankly, he already knew the answer to that.

Fair enough. They’ve had quite a few drinks. It was late.
He could trust these men. He trusted them every day on the field.

Ghost glared at Soap next to him before finishing his bourbon, letting the liquor burn his throat before finally revealing himself;

“…Kids' fifth birthday.”

If the silence before wasn’t deafening enough already; this one sure was. The whole team stared at Ghost in pure disbelief, as the Brit lazily signaled the bartender to fix him another glass. Price’s astonished face was quickly replaced with a proud smile, swinging his glass silently. Gaz and Soap both stared at Ghost as if they had just discovered Bigfoot. With open mouths and furrowed brows they observed the relaxed Lieutenant who now had his third glass.

“Simon. Fuckin’. Riley,” Soap whispered with his blue eyes fixated on his superior.

“…,You tellin’ us…You’re a whole father?!”

Ghost knew this day had to come.

“10 points to the Sergeant.”

“Turning five?!”

“Correct.”

“The kids? As in multiple ones?!”

“Twins, MacTavish.”

Simon could feel himself bragging at this point. Of course he was proud of his twins, if only the Scot knew what precious angels they were too. He’s nobody to show around photos of his children though, let alone keep photos of them on his mobile phone, so that'll do.

Soap eventually turned around to look at the others, trying to read their expressions and check if he’s the only one just hearing about this. He is not. Gaz and Price sure are equally surprised.

Silence again.

Ghost avoided any eye-contact intentionally.

“Reason enough to miss a meeting, if you ask me.” Price broke the silence with a smirk on his face.

“Aye…” Soap agreed, still shocked by the news and taking his glass, “…,wait!” His accent was thick and sluggish, he’s had the most drinks out of all of them. Adding the overburdening of emotions to that, he was talking rather loudly.

“With the pearl, then?!” he put the glass down with a loud thump and stared right back at Ghost.

“With the pearl.” Simon lazily repeated, eyes focused on his own glass beneath him.

Soap shook his head, not even bothering on holding back his laugh at this point. Not only did he hook his lieutenant up with a dancer, no. The Ghost & the Performer have twins together! Simon has been a dad for 5 years! And the Scot never even noticed a thing! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is a fuckin’ father!

“You’re gonna be the end of me, L.T.” he lifted his glass to clink with Ghosts.

The Brit did not reciprocate it, just glaring down at him. So Soap settled for clinking his glass against Ghost’s by himself, taking a swig with a wide smile still painted across his face.

Once Ghost peeked over to where Price & Gaz were sitting, the three of them smiled in silence as Soap was still audibly processing that the big, gruff man sitting next to him has been a father all this time.