Simon Ghost Riley x Fem OC.
❝I am rotten. How can you see the good in me?❞
𝑺𝒄𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒏, a tough and cold SAS soldier, haunted by the dark past and her demons. She's back on her tracks in Captain Price's team, to catch a dangerous threa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE hospital's air felt heavy, from the moment I stepped in I started feeling unwell with myself, it brang me so many memories from when I spent weeks here, after my injuries of that damn mission that made me MIA.
But now I was here to visit my uncle. Joyce wanted to come with me but I needed some time alone with him, even though he was in a coma. Despite he had hidden all those things from me, he was still my uncle, the person who looked after me when I needed it most. On top of that, he taught me how to survive in this shitty world and inspired me to join the military.
I walked through the corridors of the hospital after asking at the entrance where his room was. With each passing minute I felt my heart sink -- in fact I had never been ready enough to see him like that, Joyce had warned me. His head injury was getting worse, he had bruises on his face from the fall, he was thinner and looked older.
I stopped in front of his door, I hesitated, my hand was already on the handle but it didn't dare turn it. You're strong, Meridia. My eyes closed, my uncle's words echoing in my head.
With a sigh, I finally opened the door and the beeping of the vital monitor echoed in the small hospital room. There he was, lying on the bed with a breather on his face, his skin was pale, his face had bruises verging on bluish and yellowish. My stomach closed, my throat tightened into a tight knot, I could explode at any moment.
To think that he was just fine when I left weeks ago, now, he was at the verge of death. He didn't deserve it at all, no kind soul deserved a thing like this.
I sat down on a chair next to his bed, there was a vase with fresh beautiful flowers on the bedside table, probably Joyce changed them once a week. My trembling hand reached out to his, and I held it tightly into mine. I felt tears burning my eyes, the lump in my throat tightening even more, seeing him in this condition was destroying me. "I'm so sorry for coming just now.." My voice came out broken and quiet.
Only silence responded to my question, making my heart ache further. I didn't know what to say nor do, I felt completely helpless. I couldn't stand being there, it was a slow torture, my inner child was crying out loud while I fought back my tears.
*
After the visit I went straight back to the villa, I didn't any intentions to hang around Weymouth, I was here to find out the truth and as soon as I had a plan, I was off to hunt that bastard down. I was seeking for a sick revenge, not caring whether he was my father, I needed him to pay for his sins in my own way.
Only like that my inner child could heal, only in that way I could avenge my mother's death.
Sitting on the porch of the villa, I lit a cigarette, taking the first drag deeply. Smoking helped calm my nerves. In front of me the sea was shining in the sunlight, today it was quite troubled, the waves were large and violent, I was enchanted by watching them. I didn't notice Joyce's presence behind me, she was watching me carefully with her hands behind her back.
"Usual bad habit." Her sudden words caught me off guard and I flinched, turning my head to the side to look at her. She too had a thoughtful face, she looked out over the sea as she slowly reached the first step and sat down on it, like me.
"I can't help it." I muttered and lowered my gaze on the cigarette between my fingers.
A cold silence fell between us, I was absorbed in my thoughts, while she looked at the sea in front of us. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked so suddenly, making her turn her attention on me. She seemed to catch up on what I meant, it was so obvious, I came here for two reasons: my uncle and to know the truth.
"You just a little girl.. suffering, broken," She started off after heaving out a sigh. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them. "You had just lost your mother, you didn't eat, you didn't leave your room. You refused to go to therapies, you didn't even want to talk to us."
I took a long drag from my cigarette, my gaze still lowered. It was true, it had been hell for me. I wore the wounds and bruises caused by my father's tortures, I cried constantly in my room, I couldn't look anyone in the face. I felt ugly, weak, ruined by a man who was supposed to protect me.
"The news reached us a few weeks later, we thought the process had been successful but it had never been like that. Jonathan had connections with someone very powerful and no one knew it. And so, he escaped." The more I listened to her words, the more I felt sick to my stomach. He had never regretted his actions, he was a sick bastard and he would've continue like this for the rest of his life.
Possibly, he was silently watching me, I had no idea what he knew about me, if he knew I was working in the special forces to capture him and his boss. But I knew for sure that he would come to visit me soon, Arseni told me. I had to get a move on and do something before he could create another tragedy – not that he wasn't doing that already, working under Makarov.
"We only know that the connections come from Russia, after all, everything is in the dark. Your uncle has been investigating this all this time, but everything turns out to be impossible. He definitely hides under another name." Joyce added and ran a hand through her hair.
I only hummed in response. Three days passed from my departure and maybe John had some intel already, after Ghost's Farah's mission. I needed to know absolutely. I know I shouldn't have worked alone and secretly, but I didn't want anyone to get in my way. It was my business, purely personal, I needed to be the one to have Jonathan's head in my hands.
