A Collection of Short Stories | Simon Riley "Ghost" x Reader

a dive beyond duty: chapter 2

The shock of the cold water was a brutal assault, a visceral blow that seemed to still time itself.

The world went silent for Ghost, save for the furious rush of water in his ears.

The frigid river engulfed him, pulling and twisting him every which way, turning him into a mere plaything in its powerful currents.

In that dizzying moment, clarity pierced through the disorientation: you.

The grip he had on you a moment before was shattered by the overwhelming force of nature.

Panic, a sensation unfamiliar and raw to someone as trained as Ghost, threatened to rise and choke him.

Every instinct he possessed screamed at him to find air, to break to the surface, but another voice, louder and more persistent, demanded he find you first.

He tried to orient himself, his limbs thrashing wildly.

His waterlogged gear and mask weighed him down, making every movement sluggish, every attempt to navigate the treacherous currents more daunting.

Still, he refused to surface, refused to take a breath while you were lost somewhere in the dark abyss.

His mind raced with flashes of shared memories, shared battles.

Ghost remembered your laughter, your unyielding spirit, your strength in the face of insurmountable odds.

Those memories were intertwined with his very identity.

He wouldn't—couldn't—lose you now.

Not after everything they'd been through.

His lungs burned with the need for oxygen, a deep-seated pain that threatened to override every other thought.

Ghost's vision began to blur, black spots dancing at the edges.

But surrender wasn't an option.

Not for him, and especially not for you.

He moved with renewed vigor, pushing against the tide, hoping, praying to feel the familiar touch of your hand, or hear the faintest sound of your voice.

Every second that ticked by felt like an agonizing eternity, adding weight to the suffocating dread that maybe he was too late.

The reality of the situation hit him with a force mightier than the waters around him.

If he didn't find you soon, the cold, unfeeling river would claim not one, but two victims.

The weight of that thought was unbearable.

Ghost's desperate struggle against the merciless currents seemed to stretch on forever, but finally, after what felt like an eternity, the waters began to relent.

As he pushed through, the roaring in his ears subsided to a mere murmur, and he could sense the river bed not far below.

The water level began to recede rapidly, and within moments, it was only knee-deep, giving him the opportunity to yank off his mask and inhale anything other than water.

His pulse raced, every beat echoing the urgency of his mission.

He couldn't allow himself to feel relief at the reprieve, not when you were still missing.

His boots skidded and scraped against the pebbled floor as he scoured the vicinity, the dim light making everything appear in distorted shadows.

And then, there it was—a piece of familiar fabric, dancing just beneath the water's surface, carried along by the gentler current.