Contagious || Ghost x Fem

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰-𝟏

"There are too many of them, we need to regroup with Keegan," Ghost asserted, his voice firm. "I'm coming, start without me," Soap affirmed. Ghost looked down at you in his arms, your breathing slow and hushed as you slid your gloves off. "Do you think you can walk?" He asked and you agreed, determination pushing you forward. However, as soon as you tried to stand, a sharp pain surged through your stomach, and you collapsed to your knees. "Fuckin' hell," Ghost cursed under his breath as he lifted you again, this time more roughly, prioritizing speed over comfort. Price's urgency echoed in your ears, urging the team to move. The situation had escalated, and there was no time to spare.

As the team began climbing up the mountain, Ghost's movements caused intense pain, making you instinctively touch your stomach. When you lifted your hand, you realized it was stained red with blood. Soap assured the team that he was right behind them, and Ghost expertly navigated the challenging terrain, holding you firmly while gripping onto branches and rocks. The sound of helicopters was unmistakable and echoed overhead, drowning out the surrounding environment. Suddenly, an unfamiliar American voice crackled over the comms, creating an eerie contrast to the chaos unfolding.

"This is Shadow-1, orbiting the compound now, standing by for visual," The voice said. "Shadow-1, this is Bravo 0-7, we'll mark our position with an IR laser, we have one wounded, over." Ghost responded as he moved faster up the rough terrain. As he pressed forward, the world around you became a blur, and the strain on your body took its toll. Your eyes started to close involuntarily, and the rhythm of Ghost's movements began to lull you into a hazy state between consciousness and unconsciousness. The distant sounds of the helicopter and the exchange of communication over the comms faded into the background as you fought to stay awake. The warmth of blood against your hand and the pain in your stomach were the only reminders that this was painfully real.

"Serpent stay with me," Ghost said placing you on the ground next to Keegan. Keegan swiftly began removing your vest, revealing the source of the pain. He carefully examined the wound, worry evident in his expression. "It missed the vest by a few inches," he remarked. Keegan then reached for a med kit, focused on addressing the injury. "We've got company," Soap said as Mexican military men began ambushing your group, the team swiftly formed a protective circle around you and Keegan. In a coordinated effort, they engaged the attackers, taking them down with efficient and precise movements. The chaos of the firefight echoed through the mountainous terrain, but the team remained resolute in defending their position. Keegan continued to tend to your injuries amidst the intense exchange of gunfire, determined to keep you safe.

After neutralizing the threat, for now, Ghost began waving an IR laser in the air. "Shadow-1, we're east of the compound. The position is marked." He said as helicopters moved closer to your location. "Roger, taking out armed guards. We'll be at your location momentarily." The cold night air gave you shivers as you felt the adrenaline start to wear off. In the distance, the distinct sound of a helicopter rotor echoed through the mountains. Keegan swiftly scooped you up, grabbed your vest, and made his way to the waiting helicopter. The team swiftly boarded the waiting helicopter, and as the rotor blades began to spin, lifting the aircraft off the ground, the night air resonated with the rhythmic thump of the chopper. You were carefully placed inside, and Keegan, still holding your vest, settled in next to you.

"Damn it! How the hell did they know we were coming?" Ghost yelled into the comm, his frustration evident in every word. The team exchanged uneasy glances, grappling with the unsettling realization that their movements had been anticipated. Ghost's frustration echoed through the cramped space, creating an atmosphere thick with uncertainty. The team needed answers, and Ghost was determined to get them. "Easy, Ghost. We'll figure this out," the American said in an attempt to calm the seething operative. "What's there to figure out Graves? We walked into a damn ambush, and now we're sitting ducks," Ghost retorted, his tone edged with frustration and resentment.

"This isn't the first time, Ghost. Our priorities are helping Serpent and getting to safety," Price said, his voice steady and commanding. "Yeah, and last time this happened we lost two outstanding soldiers who are now replaced with idiots," Ghost retorted bitterly. "Where the fuck were you when Soap was about to get shot?" Keegan's anger laced his words, the tension in the air escalating. "I was dealing with my own shit. Serpent should have been quicker, instead of pushing Soap, she should have taken down the enemy. Now we have a wounded soldier and no leads," Ghost's words cut through the air with a cold, unforgiving edge. "Well, actually, we do have leads. And she took a bullet for me. Would Yuri have taken a bullet for you, Ghost?" Soap said crossing his arms.

The heated argument sent shockwaves through your head, each word echoing like a hammer pounding against your temples. The incessant bickering became a discordant symphony, intensifying the pulsating migraine that reverberated through your skull. The pain in your abdomen, where the bullet had found its mark, seemed to synchronize with the verbal chaos, creating a disorienting symphony of discomfort. The world around you blurred, and the voices of your comrades became distant echoes amid the throbbing ache. "You motherf-" Ghost was cut off by you, tired of the bickering. "Everybody, shut the fuck up!" you yelled, the pulsing migraine intensifying along with the pain.

The sudden cessation of the arguing left a palpable silence, and in that moment of quiet, Price approached, concern etched across his face. He took a seat beside you, his eyes scanning your pained expression. "Are you okay?" he asked with a gentleness that provided a stark contrast to the recent cacophony. The pulsing pain intensified, and you couldn't help but snap, "Do I look okay to you?" Your gaze shifted downward, and the sight of your stained shirt, marked by the vivid red of your blood, was a stark reminder of the severity of the situation. Price's expression softened as he responded, "I know, I'm just trying to be here for you. We'll get you the help you need."

Regret filled you, and you sighed. "I'm sorry, Price. It's just the pain, and... we missed Hassan. He was there. We were so close." Soap offered some reassurance, "It's alright, lassie. We'll get him next time." However, Ghost's comment added a layer of tension, "Yeah, if there's not another fuck up." His scowl directed at you intensified the already palpable strain in the air. You clenched your stomach, the pain pulsing with each heartbeat. "I'm getting real tired of the blatant disrespect, Ghost," you managed to say through gritted teeth. "I guess saving your life was a mistake after all," Ghost sneered, his words cutting through the tense air. Graves quickly stepped in, "Alright, that's enough. You're on my helicopter with my men, and frankly, we're getting tired of it."

"Who are you again?" You asked ignoring the pang of hurt in your heart. "Commander Philip Graves of Shadow Company. And you?" You slid your balaclava off your face to breathe better. "Serpent," you replied, keeping your tone steady despite the discomfort. Graves nodded, and you couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics between Shadow Company and Task Force 141. "You look awfully familiar have we met before?" He asked and you shook your head. "No, I don't think so. My work usually keeps me in the shadows," you responded, your words carrying a touch of mystery. Graves raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. The rest of the flight continued in relative silence, each member lost in their thoughts and, perhaps, the lingering tension from the recent mission.

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