I Feel It In My Bones (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Arrival of the King

A couple of days later, you were sitting by the tree at the end of the field you had found on your first week on base. The once vibrant autumn had surrendered to the icy grip of winter, leaving a delicate layer of frost to enshroud the ground below.

You had finished your shift in the medical bay an hour or so ago, and had taken the opportunity of a free evening to chat with Sandman.

The two of you still talked everyday, even if it was just for a quick catch up. You talked about everything and anything - except for one topic that you couldn't bring yourself to discuss.

Simon.

You couldn't bring yourself to talk about him, to even write about him - not to Sandman, not to anyone. If you verbalised your internal turmoil, your feelings, your longing, you could never take it back. It would no longer be locked inside of you, safe, untouched.

It would make everything too real.

As your hands danced across the keyboard, the biting chill of the season began to creep into the bones of your fingers.

Sandman: Ever heard of the Shadow Company?

You: Negative.

Sandman: It's run by a man called Phillip Graves. American. Private military - big bucks.

You: Okay, what about them?

Sandman: They've recruited me. Specifically.

Sandman: Like, Graves himself asked for me.

You frowned at the screen, unsure how to convey your mixed feelings. While you were happy for your friend - being recruited for a private company by the commander himself was huge - there was a nagging feeling at your gut. Like something was off, but you couldn't quite put a finger on what.

You: Sean, are you sure about this? Going private?

Sandman: I know, I know, but holy shit, you should have seen the money they've offered. It's too good to pass up.

You: So long as you're happy, man.

You were distracted by a loud noise. In the field across from you, distant whistles and yells travelled through the cold air. Two groups were spread across the grass, a ragged football being kicked between them.

You: Speaking of, ever heard of KORTAC?

There had been a new arrival at base - a private military group. They had landed the day after Ghost had left. It wasn't unusual for another organisation to stay on the same base - but there was a tangible air of unease around the newcomers. A few scuffles had already broken out in the corridors and the mess hall. In the medical bay, you had already ended up stitching an eyebrow back into place.

You didn't see Sandman's reply as droplets of rain pattered down onto the screen. You quickly slid it into your trouser pocket, pushing yourself to your feet. Your toes were numb inside your boots, a clear sign that you should have returned back inside a while ago.

Out of nowhere, a deafening crack of thunder overhead jolted your senses, and you quickened your pace across the solid dirt, the gentle drizzle escalating into a torrential downpour in the space of a few seconds.

A flash of thunder quickly followed, and you burst into a flat sprint.

On the other side of the field, silhouettes dashed for cover, their shouts and whoops echoing amidst the rumbling thunder. You manoeuvred between soldiers, wedging yourself into the warmth of the main building just in time, narrowly avoiding the drenching rain soaking through to your skin.