Mexico military base, Mexico. 0200hours.
The cars had finally made it back to base and everyone had dragged their feet back to their respective rooms, and so bad Reaper, sitting down on the bed silently. She never slept, she could go weeks without sleeping. Something she'd learnt during the years of being kept in cells, tapping her fingers against the mattress she was restless and wouldn't be able to lay in bed to attempt and sleep even if god had willed it. Instead, she slipped off her vest and walked silently from the room down the many halls until she found a gym. Flicking on the light she shielded her eyes to adjust after being in the dim lights for hours, slipping off her gloves and wrapping them in boxing tape, starting to throw punches at the black bag as the chain holding it rattled.
It wasn't clear how long she had been doing it, but long enough for the skin on her already injured hands, from punching the hard nose of the prisoner to become bloody and red. But even then she didn't stop, punishing herself with the pain until the began to sweat. The woman wasn't alone, she had been followed again, and could feel his presence shift around behind her. But more so, is that she hadn't realised the line of blood peeking through the tan shirt she was wearing. Right against her rib, Ghost had though and stopped the bag swinging.
Instead of the hardened skull mask and tactical gear he was in a skull painted balaclava and a sweat set, the black paint around his eyes chipping enough to see the blonde of his eyelashes. "What?" Reaper mumbled breathlessly, in no mood to make a joke, wiping the blood on her hands on her towel. "You're bleeding. When did you get injured?" Her brows furrowed in confusion under the mask and she looked down, pressing her hand to the area and hissing slightly, annoyed he had noticed it more than it bleeding out. "It's nothing" She answered quietly, and she'd expected him to leave it but he folded his arms. She could see the bulge of muscles under his jumper and quickly diverted her eyes thankful he couldn't see. "Sit. Let me sort it." Ghost's voice was firm, authoritative, he wasn't asking her he was telling her.
Too tired to argue she just walked to the bench and sat down, legs spread and arms resting on her thighs so she could catch her breath. Her own muscles bulging under the tight shirt, the weight of Ghost sitting making the wood under the pair creak. "If you're injured and fuck up on the field it's my responsibility" He spoke, gruff accent filling the quiet room, feeling like he needed to give a reason for someone he couldn't care less about. "Lift your shirt" The woman's body visibly tensed as she sat up, tapping her fingers on her thigh, wondering weather to do so.
It took her a while and his eyes boring into the side of head before she answered. "Wait there" The reaper mumbled, quickly walking to the doors and shutting them and then locking it for extra measure before walking and sitting back on the bench. Turning to look at him she grabbed the collar of his hoodie and pulled him in closer, growling, a warning. "You tell anyone what you saw and I'll skin you alive and force it down your throat."
Ghost could tell full well she meant it, and he could tell he was hesitant about doing so. Slowly she lifted the shirt off her right shoulder so it wouldn't be in the way, her arms almost completely covered in dark ink up past her shoulder and maybe even her neck, and so was her torso. The tall man's hand tensed around the med kit as he saw the hundreds of different scars along her skin, big, small, different shaped. The tattoos only made them all more obvious, and when he looked up to her for a moment she was staring at the wall in front. But what caught his eye the most were the horizontally placed ones along her rib, just under the strap of her lace bra, they were intentional and more recent than the others. He recognised them.
"Why do you do it?" The taller man had asked, and it made her stiffen even more. "You've seen what I do. Heard the stories" She started, finally turning her masked face to look at his. "It's not human. What I do isn't human. Without.. the pain I wouldn't know I was capable of feeling it or being human" Reaper felt more vulnerable now, as his cold hands cleaned the blood on her skin than any other time in her life, exhaling a shaky breath. "Please don't tell anyone.." She asked softly, gripping his wrist tightly. This was different than when he had been warned, she sounded scared. Not of the repercussions, but of anyone knowing she fid feel anything, and he too felt vulnerable. "I won't" He finally answered, cleaning the wound and covering it before sitting back next to her in silence.
He wouldn't tell anyone because he knew what it felt like when someone had seen what he'd inflicted upon himself, the shame, the fear. He didn't know her, maybe he even hated her a little bit because of how similar they were. But he couldn't deny that he understood. "Can I ask a question now?" She spoke softly the rasp in her Liverpool accent undeniable, her voice was different than he'd ever heard it, he had crossed her in passing a few times but never come to know her. Every time they'd passed she sounded angry all the time, but she just seemed defeated. "You can ask" He replied, legs stretched out in front of him, knowing he probably wouldn't answer the question. "Do you still feel things? Sadness, happiness, anything other than anger after everything you've done?"
She could tell he had to think about it, really push to the back of his brain as to when the last time he had any emotion other than anger was. She could see how the light reflected off his eyes, how he was glaring at the floor because of the crease on the bridge of his nose. "No. Do you?" He asked, turning to look at her, and once again he tried to find the eyes under the mask. She could tell he hated not being able to read her, not being able to see what her eyes carried. "No."
She replied, her too thinking of the last time she had felt something other than anger, most of the time she felt empty. After that, they sat in silence, because being in each other's presence silently was better than the nightmares each of them had though both refused to admit it.
