COD Oneshots (xReader)

Keegan - Fight Back

another one where you get injured my bad i just really like that type of story. a teeny tiny bit like könig enemy oneshot but only like one aspect. For this, Keegans not a ghost - he's just a captain and you are also a captain. sorry if this is messy, i checked it through but it's like 5am
neutral reader | 2800 words

Y/N POV

I held my last soldier, watching the light leave their eyes, their blood staining my shaking fingertips. i was covered in the blood of the dead, the blood of the people i had promised survival to. i carefully lowered the person to the ground, putting my hands back on my weapon. I was littered in cuts, bruises and wounds. Loss is inevitable, especially since i'm the last one left and the enemies outnumbered us even when everyone was alive. I also knew he was out there, in charge of those soldiers. When i did know him, he was always unbeatable. He beat me in everything during training, and he continued to exceed me in everything else no matter how much i tried. Now being in different militaries, i assumed i'd never have to deal with it again - but i was wrong. He's the cause of my imminent death.

But i'm no coward. i won't die from a shot in the back from running away. i close my teammate's eyes, their cold skin a pain in my chest. i stood, moving on through floors of bodies and empty halls. Soon turning a corner to a shot to the shoulder. i quickly shot back, an immediate headshot. i groaned out a string of swears before throwing my gun to the floor, grabbing my handgun from its holster on my thigh. it's a good thing they didn't shoot my dominant side. i carried on, occasionally dispatching the enemies standing in my way. where were they all? they have to all be in a massive group somewhere, but where? i grew more and more aware of my surroundings, praying no one would end up behind me. i eventually made it to two metal doors, and if the preplanning is correct, it should be a stairwell. i grabbed a handle, gently pulling the door towards me, only to suddenly get hit with it when someone pushed through it. before i could properly catch my balance i felt cold metal enter my stomach, slicing my skin and everything in its path, causing my breath to hitch. i littered the rest of my mag out into their head before tumbling to the floor.

How could that have happened so easily? All i did was open a door- and now here i am, knife embedded into my stomach. my breathing was fast but ultimately painful, i could already feel the blood clogging my throat. This is it. I'm dying in a cold stairwell right next to the body of the person who caused it. how poetic, so beautifully boring and humiliating. i reached a hand to the handle, already too weak to not use two. i brought my second hand onto the rubbery grip with a pained shoulder, trying to psyche myself up. I froze at the sudden figure in the corner of my view. It was him. It was Keegan. he aimed his gun to my head, but didn't shoot. i didn't move.
"Get up. Fight back," he said so simply, not taking his eyes off me. i hadn't heard his voice in so long, it was nearly the most shocking thing about this scenario. I scoffed, letting out a short breathy laugh.
"Just shoot me. You know damn well that i won't even be able to lay my little finger on you," i spoke through coughs of blood, wiggling my fingers, my elbows slightly lifting them up to his view. He breathed out, throwing his gun aside and crouching down to me, shuffling his arms under me and lifting me.

"Wh- Get the fuck off me! What are you doing?!" i wriggled to try to get him to at least drop me. He was silent, carrying me through halls upon halls and never ending stairs, all the while i was groaning out every swear imaginable due to the pain of it. I was starting to lose even more strength, the pain becoming even worse as my vision started to blur. He noticed, his pace quickening to just below sprinting speed, which jogged me around more. before i knew it i was just seeing black.

**

I woke up feeling the hottest i'd ever felt, the pain and dizziness hitting me just a second later. i turned slightly before noticing my wrist had been handcuffed to the steel head board of the bed i was sleeping on. i groaned as i remembered the situation. At least i didn't still have a knife in me, but i was missing the majority of my clothes, now left in a tank top, underwear and socks. it made my injuries more visible, more cuts and bruises than i predicted, the shoulder wound properly bandaged but more obvious, and the stab wound had stained the majority of my white tanktop red. Said tanktop was still wet, probably meaning i was bleeding through whatever bandages had been put on the wound - which gave the amazing opportunity of bleeding out. What was going on here? we both had orders to kill the other, so why am i being kept alive? i jumped at the sound of Keegan's voice, yelling at soldiers somewhere outside of the apparent cell i was in.