Contagious || Ghost x Fem

𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐆𝐨

"Hold your fire, I'm making entry," Soap's voice crackled over the comms, jolting you from a brief nap on Ghost's shoulder. The dimly lit interior of the church felt oddly serene, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding outside. "Copy that," Ghost responded his voice a steady anchor amidst the tension that hung in the air. As he rose to his feet, you followed suit, the weariness of the past hours evident in the heaviness of your limbs. Descending the worn stone steps, your senses heightened with each footfall, anticipation mingling with a quiet sense of dread.

"Good to see both of you alive," Soap said, his voice laced with both relief and weariness as he exchanged brief hugs with both you and Ghost. The camaraderie shared in this moment, a silent acknowledgment of the bond forged through countless trials. "Likewise, Johnny," Ghost replied, a subtle warmth in his tone that spoke volumes amidst the chaos that surrounded you. "Let me help with your wound," you offered, your voice soft but determined as you guided Soap to sit on a nearby step. The cool stone beneath him provided a brief respite from the heat of battle, a temporary sanctuary amid turmoil.

Once Soap was settled, you attended to his injury with gentle hands and focused attention, the rhythm of your movements a soothing counterpoint to the cacophony outside. Each touch was deliberate, each gesture a silent promise of solidarity in the face of adversity. Ghost stood nearby, a silent sentinel keeping watch over his comrade, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you. His gaze never wavered from the scene unfolding before him, a silent testament to his unwavering resolve. As you finished tending to Soap's wound, he rose to his feet, expressing his gratitude with a heartfelt "Thanks." You nodded in acknowledgment, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you returned to Ghost's side.

Soap gingerly moved his arm, testing his mobility before posing the inevitable question, "So what now?" Ghost reached into his vest and retrieved the crumpled sticky note, extending it to Soap. "Alejandro's safe house," he replied, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. Soap studied the note intently before looking up, his brow furrowed with concern. "How are we gonna get there?" he asked, voicing the collective uncertainty that lingered in the air. You glanced around the dimly lit interior of the church, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders. Memories of the chaos outside flooded your mind, but amidst the turmoil, a flicker of determination burned bright.

"I remember seeing a truck just outside the gates," you spoke up, your voice steady despite the unease that gnawed at your insides. "We'd have to fight our way through though." A collective silence fell over the group as everyone exchanged glances, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon them. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a shared sense of resolve emerged, binding you together in purpose. Nods of agreement rippled through the group, each gesture a silent affirmation of your collective determination to see this through.

As the plan began to take shape, the group fell into a practiced rhythm, each of you checking your weapons and ensuring everything was in working order. Ghost meticulously inspected his rifle, his movements precise and calculated, while Soap adjusted the straps of his vest, a look of determination etched upon his face. Meanwhile, you rummaged through the contents of your backpack, searching for something with a sense of urgency. Ghost glanced over, curiosity evident in his gaze. "The hell are you looking for?" he inquired, his tone tinged with mild amusement.

"My mask," you replied simply, your voice carrying a hint of resolve. You didn't like going on missions without it. Price had been adamant about concealing your identity, ensuring that the enemy never caught a glimpse of your face. With a determined nod, you located the familiar piece of gear nestled among the supplies in your backpack. Pulling it out, you inspected it briefly before securing it over your face, the mask serving as both protection and a symbol of your commitment to the mission ahead. 

"Aye, Serpent," Soap said, his voice slightly uncertain. "Y/n," you corrected him firmly, meeting his gaze with determination. "What?" Soap and Ghost responded in unison, Ghosts surprise evident. "Call signs were never really my thing," you explained with a nonchalant shrug as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Y/n, are you sure? What if--" Ghost began, his voice laced with concern. You cut him off, your tone resolute. "I survived just fine before having one. Price just wanted me to have one to keep my name hidden, but..." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "I don't want to be in the dark anymore," you declared, your words carrying a weight of conviction.

Ghost's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Alright, Y/n," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No more Serpent." Soap nodded in agreement, though his expression remained slightly puzzled. "Whatever you say," he replied, before turning his attention back to his weapon. With a sense of relief, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. It was liberating to shed the anonymity of a call sign and reclaim your identity amid chaos and uncertainty. As Ghost and Soap continued their preparations, you took a moment to reflect on the significance of your decision. No longer would you hide behind a facade. You were Y/n, and you were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead with honesty and courage.

Your voice broke through the tension in the room, drawing Soap's attention. "What did you need Soap?" You asked remembering how he called your name. "Oh yea, I was wondering if you had any extra ammo," he asked, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. You glanced over to Ghost, who was already shouldering your backpack, his posture tense with readiness. With a nod, you acknowledged Soap's request. "Yeah, one sec," you replied, making your way over to Ghost's side. As you approached, Ghost turned to meet your gaze, his expression serious yet focused. "Need some spare mags for Soap," you explained softly, your voice barely above a whisper amidst the charged atmosphere.

Ghost nodded in understanding, reaching into the backpack with practiced efficiency. With a rustle of fabric, he retrieved a couple of spare magazines, their metallic sheen catching the dim light filtering through the church windows. You took the magazines from Ghost's outstretched hand, the weight of them feeling reassuringly familiar in your grasp. Turning back to Soap, you offered him the ammunition with a small but determined smile, silently conveying your solidarity in the face of adversity. 

"We ready?" you asked, your voice steady despite the underlying tension. "Ready," Soap affirmed, his tone determined. Ghost met your gaze with a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and resolve. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down upon all of you, a palpable sense of urgency driving you forward. With a shared understanding, you all turned towards the door, a unified front in the face of uncertainty. "Let's go," you declared, your voice firm with conviction as you prepared to step into the unknown together.

1213 words