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

The Meaning of Home

Laswell contacted Price not long after the card game ended.

Shadow activity in the area had stopped entirely. Satellite imaging had shown no traces of Graves and his company. Thermal imaging of their base had identified no signs of life. And most worrisome of all, Shepherd had also disappeared from the grid.

It was as though they had all fallen off the face of the earth.

The news had sent a wave of relief and unease through your team. Relief that the surrounding area was secure. Unease that the bioweapon was also nowhere to be found.

The Shadows' base was cleared by another team of operators. Laswell ensured that, alongside intelligence, your belongings would be reunited with you upon your return to Britain.

The following day, you were extracted from the safehouse by chopper with the help of a burly Russian called Nikolai. You were surprised to see him so close with Price, and even more surprised to learn that the safehouse you were holed up in was actually his.

Sandman and Soap slept for most of the ride, piled up in a corner to themselves. Like all of you, they didn't like to let on how much their injuries affected them - but from their pale skin and the darkness that shadowed their under eyes, it was obvious to everyone that the exfil hadn't come soon enough.

Price spent the time filling out reports. You couldn't remember the last time you had seen so much paper. When he had caught your alarmed gaze, he had simply said, 'every detail matters.'

Gaz had taken the deck of cards from the safehouse to keep himself occupied. At times, he seemed to daze off, lost in thought. You couldn't help but wonder what he was mulling over in that mind of his, what he was trying to understand. Other times, he would spread the cards out beside him, and play a solo game of solitaire.

You and Ghost sat away from the others. For most of the journey, you spaced off, staring into nothing. Both of you wore your skull balaclavas. Wearing a print the same as his had become a symbol of unity, you supposed. A symbol of your connection. You had no idea what awaited you when you landed, but the feel of the fabric over your face, and Ghost's arm pressed against yours were comforting and familiar.

When your vision became glazed and your thoughts descended into a downwards spiral halfway through the trip, Ghost gave your hand a squeeze with his gloved one, and pulled out that joke book he loved so much from his pocket. The one his newphew had gifted him.

The two of you flicked through it, and he pointed out his favourite jokes. Some were as dark-humoured as he was, others took you by surprise. It was a good distraction, at least in the moment.

And that was how you, after an eight hour journey in the air, ended up landing in a military base somewhere in the south of England.

You were met by grey skies, drizzle, and a sombre Laswell. Her stormy eyes contained a mixture of relief and severity when you disembarked. She greeted Price with a hug, the rest of you with a nod, and led you to the base's medical facility for thorough check-ups before you would proceed to the debriefing room.

Once inside the infirmary, you couldn't have imagined how much you missed the smell of antiseptic, the steady hum of medical equipment, the hushed chatter of the staff. In a private room, your wounds were checked. Your cheek, your hand, the bruises that scattered across your body. There was nothing that wouldn't heal with a little time and rest, but you were still offered painkillers.

You denied them.

Since being sedated, the idea of taking anything that may disorient you was unappealing. You had managed the pain this far, and you were certain you would manage a while longer.