COD Oneshots

Regret (Ghost)

Ghost stood alone in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of distant machinery the only sound breaking the silence. He told himself that this was what he liked best—being alone. He had lost everything once before and knew he couldn't keep anything he loved. It was easier this way. Or so he convinced himself.

But Y/N had changed everything. She had walked into his life with a warmth that had pierced through the cold, hardened shell he had built around himself. Her laughter had brought him a joy he had forgotten he could feel, and her smile had torn down the walls he had erected to protect his heart. He let her in, against his better judgment, and that had been his first mistake.

The breakup, of course, had been his fault. He hated himself more than ever for the pain he had caused her. He remembered the fights he had started for no reason, every time she got too close or expected the most basic things from him—a call while he was on missions, or that he would be there when he promised he would. Simple things that any other man would have given freely. But Ghost wasn't any other man. He was damaged, and he manipulated his own life to ensure that he would never hold his promises, never truly commit.

He would go days without speaking to her, leaving her in agonizing uncertainty, yet she never complained. She stayed, patient and understanding, hoping that one day he would let her in completely. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. Instead, he started fights, cruelly pushing her away every time he felt her getting too close.

The last fight was the worst of all. She had mentioned her lease was up and she was looking for a new place. To any normal person, this would have been a simple conversation, perhaps even an opportunity to discuss their future together. But Ghost took it as a threat, as her trying to force him into something he wasn't ready for. His anger flared, and he lashed out with words he regretted the moment they left his mouth.

"You think I want to move in with you? You think I want any of this?" he had shouted, his voice echoing in the small apartment. He saw the hurt in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped as if he had struck her physically.

She left that night, and Ghost knew he had lost the only good thing in his life. He had driven her away, just as he had known he would. He truly loved her, but he couldn't have good things in his life. He didn't deserve them.

Now, standing alone in the darkness, Ghost felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him. He had been his own worst enemy, sabotaging the one chance at happiness he had. He hated himself for what he had become, for the pain he had caused Y/N, and for the emptiness that now consumed him.

In the end, he knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had let her go, and in doing so, had let go of the one person who had ever made him feel truly alive.

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Ghost had become more and more reckless on missions. He threw himself into danger with a ferocity that alarmed his teammates. He would charge into firefights without backup, take unnecessary risks, and ignore the most basic protocols that had kept him alive for so long. It was as if he had a death wish, and perhaps he did.

The others noticed his change in behavior. Captain Price, Soap, and the rest of the team had seen soldiers crack before, but this was different. Ghost wasn't just taking risks—he was actively courting death. They tried to talk to him, but he brushed them off with a cold aggression that only made matters worse.

"Ghost, you need to pull back. You're going to get yourself killed," Price had warned after one particularly close call.

"Maybe that's the point," Ghost had muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Price to hear. The captain's eyes had narrowed with concern, but Ghost walked away before he could say anything more.