John expected many things from his newest mission. But seeing the woman he was ordered to kill over a decade prior, now on his own squad, was not one of them.
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This can be read as either an x reader (No use of Y/N) or an OC. Whilst the main charact...
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CHAPTER TEN THE EMBASSY
CHAPTER WARNINGS! Canon typical violence; shooting, guns, blood, injuries, explosions, terrorism, death ; No-Face faces her past near the end
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The blades whirred furiously. The helicopter shook, metals rattling against one another in fear as the wind blew against the machine. The soldiers were eerily quiet, most lost deep in their own thoughts and others too focused on containing their own stress to speak even a word.
Thomas' shoulder pressed firmly against hers, the material of his uniform rubbing against the roughness of hers. His presence was comforting, but whether the action was meant to soothe her or rather him, she was unsure. She made no attempt to move, however, happily accepting the small gesture.
Despite the thick helmet sitting protectively over his head and clasping around his face, she could clearly see the deep clench of his jaw. His eyes seemed to be narrowed, too; a thoughtful expression settling on his usually relaxed face. She could recognise his overly-concerned look from a mile away, and wanting nothing more than to comfort the man who had been by her side from the very beginning of this journey, she squeezed his hand.
He sent her a small smile, shuffling down the metal bench to press his temple against her shoulder. She spared him a small glance, but said nothing as he nuzzled into her. She shared a look with the captain from across his helicopter, his eyebrow raising at the two, but he said nothing.
"2-6, Echo is on the third deck for RV..." The voice of a CIA agent, Alex, suddenly reached them through the comms, "Be advised – primary entry point is clear but that window is rapidly closing."
That does not sound promising.
"Roger," Gaz replied, "Wheels down in three mikes. 2-6 out."
Sharing a look with Thomas, No-Face pushed herself off the metal bench and stood, her hand grabbing onto a metal rack above her. Her thick, leather gloves, still decorated with a red scythe, protected the skin of her palm from the raggedy metal, yet she could still feel the bumps of it pressing into her fingers.
Thomas made no attempt to move, still exhausted from the previous mission. His legs were spread, with the heels of his heavy boots digging into the metal flooring. She almost felt bad for him, but this was no time to rest, and so she kicked his boot and gestured for him to stand. He did so with an annoyed puff, stepping behind her as they awaited their arrival.
"3-1 to 2-6," Alex's voice rang out in their ears once again, "Shots fired, moving to secure the HVI, will advise..."
"Copy, 3-1," Gaz answered, a look of concentration on his face, "Bravo's on station. Reposition and prep for evac."
The captain them moved to stand beside her, his Boonie hat as always sitting proudly on top of his head. He sent her a small, yet reassuring nod as the voice of the pilot echoed in their ears.
