"What are you made of?" a Ghost x reader fanfic.

It's much harder to fix than you think..

With that, the team, their minds now focused on the mission at hand, filed out of the room. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the corridor as they made their way back to the waiting vehicle that would transport them to the 141 base.

Y/N took one last glance at Shasta, a sense of gratitude filling her heart. She had been a guiding presence, an unwavering source of support during her journey. Y/N silently vowed to make Shasta proud, to prove that her faith in her abilities was not misplaced.

Once the team was settled into the vehicle, the engine roared to life, and they began their journey back to the 141 base. The atmosphere inside the vehicle was a mix of anticipation and determination, each member lost in their thoughts and strategizing their next moves.

As the city lights passed by in a blur, Ghost's voice broke the silence, filled with a renewed sense of purpose. "We have our mission, our objective," he reminded them.

As we rattled along the rugged terrain, I found myself quietly perched in the back of the jeep, surrounded by an eerie silence. Ghost, König, Soap, Gaz, and I were heading back to the 141 base. While the others appeared composed, I was oddly silent, lost in the depths of my own contemplation.

My mind was consumed by the memories of my last mission, replaying like a relentless film reel. The weight of nostalgia hung heavy on my heart as I reminisced about my former team. How I longed to be back with them, to feel their unwavering support once more. But, alas, fate had led me on a divergent path, and I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for the choices I had made.

Each step on that mission had etched itself deeply into my consciousness, leaving an indelible mark. I could still hear the sounds of gunfire echoing in my ears, feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. But it was the faces of my comrades, etched with determination and trust, that haunted my thoughts. I wondered if they, too, carried the same burden of guilt that now consumed me.

The jeep rattled on, jostling my thoughts like a turbulent storm. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had let them down, that my actions had jeopardized the unity we once shared. The camaraderie and unspoken bond we had cultivated seemed so distant now, lost in the wake of my own choices. How I yearned for a chance to rectify the past, to bridge the divide that had grown between.

As the jeep came to a halt, the engine's roar surrendered to an eerie silence. We all stepped out, stretching our legs after the long journey. But while my teammates engaged in casual banter, their voices a symphony of camaraderie, I remained lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts.

Their attempts to engage me in conversation went unheard, my mind preoccupied with the haunting memories of my team's tragic demise. The weight of their loss pressed heavily upon me, their faces etched in my mind like delicate portraits of grief. It was as if their spirits still lingered, whispering their final words, their unfulfilled dreams echoing within me.

Ignoring the concerned glances and outstretched hands, I made my way to my room, seeking solace in the solitude. The door creaked open, revealing a space that had once felt so comforting, but now seemed foreign and unfamiliar. I sank onto the edge of the bed, my gaze fixed upon the cold, unforgiving floor.

In the silence of that room, my thoughts grew louder, each memory clawing at my conscience. The laughter we shared, the battles we fought side by side, all now tainted by the cruel twist of fate. The guilt I harbored threatened to consume me, its suffocating embrace tightening with every passing moment.

I closed my eyes, attempting to find refuge from the relentless storm within. But even in the darkness of my own mind, the faces of my fallen comrades illuminated my thoughts. Their voices echoed, pleading for understanding, forgiveness, and a chance to right the wrongs that had torn us apart.