A Nurse and Their Ghost | Simon Riley "Ghost" x Reader

chapter 38

As two weeks slip by, the days are marked by a gradual healing under the vigilant watch of Ghost by your side. The pairing is peculiar to say the least: Ghost, with his brusque demeanor and straightforward approach, and you, with your unique brand of stubbornness. Yet, it's a tandem that functions. 

One crisp afternoon, your presence is summoned to Price's office. The room breathes tension the moment you step in. Price is ensconced behind his desk, a sprawl of files in front of him like a fortress of secrets.

His eyes, sharp and piercing, fixate on you as he delves straight to the matter, "We've got a mission, one that requires utmost discretion." 

As Price unfurls the details, you're briefed on a highly classified target awaiting elimination. While not exceptionally challenging, the nature of the mission calls for a lean team, merely a medic and a soldier, to ensure the operation remains veiled from prying eyes.

"In two hours," Price continues bluntly, his tone shrouded with a cold confidence. He seems to be a man devoid of the need for pleasantries or excessive verbiage.

"Meet Ghost outside his room." Price adds, "The mission's details are there." His eyes are riveted on you, a silent dare, as he waits for you to retreat and prepare for the impending mission.

The sudden urgency in Price's words jolts your heart rate. A scant two hours to brace yourself? You had envisaged a day, perhaps, to marshal your thoughts. But it appears the clandestine nature of the mission dictates swiftness and discretion. Price's gaze feels like a weight, each second ticking by echoing his scrutiny. With a sharp nod, you pivot and exit the solemnity of the office.

Your strides hasten as you hustle back to the med bay. Your hands dance deftly across the shelves, amassing bandages, antiseptics, a small surgical kit, painkillers, and more. They find a neat refuge in your field med pack, poised for easy access when the need arises. As you dash to your quarters, the change into tactical gear is swift, almost instinctive.

The apparel embraces you snugly, a blend of protection and flexibility, akin to a second skin. Your fingers dart across every strap, ensuring security, and probe each pocket, confirming readiness. The armory beckons next. Your fingers coil around your trusted pistol, the cold weight of the metal a stark reminder of the looming ordeal. It snuggles into its holster as you seize additional magazines, each snugly filled, ready to dispense death's verdict.

Your steps, now shod in the mantle of readiness, carry you to the rendezvous with Ghost. The rendezvous that's a gateway to unknown confrontations awaiting in the shadows. Yet, as the finality of preparation cloaks you, your thoughts echo Price's cold confidence. With Ghost at your helm, you're ready to delve into the shadows that the mission beckons.

Your combat knife finds its home in its sheath with a quiet snick, the lethal blade hidden yet accessible. A grab at a few grenades -- a precaution nestled in the realm of the unpredictable -- follows. As your steps carry you nearer to Ghost's quarters, a whirlwind of thoughts sweeps through the corridors of your mind. But amidst the storm, the eye remains focused on the task at hand. 

As the familiar masked figure of Ghost crystallizes into view, his posture, a composition of readiness and unwavering confidence, speaks volumes from afar. It's a strange comfort, this image of readiness as you stand on the precipice of the unknown. A deep breath weaves calm through your racing heartbeats, and with a resolute nod of acknowledgment, you approach Ghost.

He's already a figure of tactical readiness, armored in his gear, a confluence of several hallways framing him in a tableau of silent resolve. His mask, an impassive veil, conceals the expressions beneath as he catches your approach, reciprocating your nod with a slight tilt of his head. The same poise and calm adorn his demeanor, familiar and reassuring.