Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|

Ghosts of Regret

The helicopter touched down, its blades cutting through the air as the ground awaited the arrival of Task Force 141. As the dust settled, the atmosphere was charged with tension, an undercurrent of unresolved emotions.

Phillip and Caleb, their expressions a mixture of concern and relief, stood ready to receive the team. Their eyes scanned the faces of the weary operatives, taking in the signs of the grueling mission they had undertaken.

Ghost was the first to disembark. He moved with a purposeful stride, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. He made no effort to acknowledge the presence of Phillip and Caleb, disappearing into the barracks with a silence that spoke volumes.

Rudy and Alejandro followed, their focus on Valeria, a captive figure in their charge. Their movements were deliberate, guiding her with a vigilance born from the understanding of the threat she still posed. The weight of their responsibility hung heavy in the air.

Laswell, a pillar of steady resolve, approached Phillip and Caleb with a determined stride. Her words were measured, a conversation held in hushed tones.

Last to step off the helicopter were (Y/n), Gaz, Soap, and Price. The three men instinctively hovered around her, their concern in the air.

"You guys don't need to hover," (Y/n) rasped, determination gleaming in her eyes as she tested her injured leg, gauging its ability to bear her weight.

"But you're seriously injur—" Gaz began, his voice laced with worry.

"You guys are worse than Alex," (Y/n) interjected with a weak chuckle, her movements deliberate as she adjusted to the sensation of standing on her own.

"We're just worried about you," Soap admitted, his gaze fixed on her.

"I've been through worse and you know that," (Y/n) assured, her voice tinged with a quiet confidence. She rotated her shoulders in a small, careful circle before handing Price a flash drive. With that, she set off towards the infirmary.

The three men watched her, their shared concern etched on their faces. As she moved, they witnessed the subtle transformation, her limp gradually fading with each determined step.

"Gaz, Soap," Price's commanding voice drew their attention back, "let's go. We need to debrief."

The two men nodded in acknowledgement and fell in step behind Price as they made their way towards the barracks.

"Ghost is pissed, huh?" Gaz ventured, a note of understanding in his tone.

"Rightfully so. But this is my fault, not yours. I'll deal with it," Price affirmed, his voice steady. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders, a burden he was prepared to bear.

The three men entered the conference room, the air thick with tension. Laswell was hunched over a laptop, setting up a connection to General Shepherd. Phillip and Caleb, in a subdued argument, stood off to the side. Alejandro and Rudy acknowledged the newcomers with a nod, maintaining a respectful distance. Ghost, a tempest of dark energy, lingered in the corner, casting a shadow over the room.

"I want to know." Ghost's voice cut through the silence, drawing everyone's attention. He strode purposefully away from his corner towards the table. The impact of his fist against the surface echoed through the room.

"Knew what, Lieutenant?" Phillip's confusion was evident.

"Operation Loose Ends! Why in the hell did you send her in to kill our team?" Ghost seethed, slamming down (Y/n)'s file, the contents spilling across the table.

"Better keep your boy in check, Captain," Graves pointed an accusatory finger at Price. "I didn't have nothin' to do with that. We were co-founders." With that, Phillip excused himself, distancing himself from the brewing storm. Caleb, however, chose to remain.