Serpents | GHOST x FEM!READER

XIX | Oblivion

The darkest days come after the storm. When everything is still and quiet, the only sound coming from the creaking branches. And while the silence is eerily washing over the ruins, there is always the worry that it may soon start again.

Three soldiers were found that night, after a merciless gunfight between two groups of sinners painted saints; the only difference lies between their motivations. One had suffered from internal bleeding, along with trauma to the head. One was barely clinging to life, while the last laid in its own blood, motionless.

A few feet away, a man with a scarred face, had a knife plunged into his chest. It was no secret as to what had occurred in that small, isolating room. A fight between blood and water; an inner battle for peace among destruction.

———

*Weeks Later*

Every day had been a battle for my own body, trying to not succumb to the injuries I'd suffered. Every night was a struggle to not give in to the temptations that came with letting go; fading away.. dying in that room.

And to my own dismay, after a week of laying in a hospital bed with tubes attached to every opening; my eyes opened to the bright fluorescents above. The look on Price's face will forever haunt my dreams, seeing me so panicked before realization set in. I can still feel the tubes being pulled out of my esophagus, and the feeling of my organs rearranging after surgery.

But I think what will truly haunt me is when Price told me the news. How only two of us had managed to come out breathing, and that we'd be planning a funeral for the coming days. My world had gone quiet when he uttered the name.

I had nothing to say, to anyone, as we set chairs in rows outside. The sky above reflected what everyone was feeling; a dark overcast on what could've been a bright and sunny day. And yet, here we all were preparing to bury one of our own. There was an everlasting bitterness in my mouth, one that wouldn't be chased away by vodka or rum.

I'd prayed I'd never see this day. In the comfort of my own bed, when the night had casted its spell on the world. I'd lay awake and mutter meaningless prayers to any God that would listen, even though I learned from a young age, they fell on deaf ears. Still, that hadn't stopped me from the sleepless nights, after nightmares of this exact day.

The crowd was silent, no one dared mutter a joke on a day like this. It was only at funerals, that every man and woman in the compound would get along. Perhaps it was out of respect for the fallen, or more likely, a silent worry of disrespecting the soldier being buried. It didn't matter where it stemmed, everyone was quiet.

I'd drowned out most of the speeches, thought part of me wished I hadn't. Maybe it would've been comforting to hear the stories, to reminisce on memories. And yet, I couldn't bear the thought of listening to how it used to be; of how it never would be again.

"Ghost?" I blinked myself out of the trance I'd been in, my gaze shifting away from the grass and to the stage. I could feel every pair of eyes on me, anticipating my next move. My shoulders were tensed as I cleared my throat and nodded, standing up. Why did I agree to speak?

The walk up to the podium felt endless, I could've swore the stage was moving farther away the more steps I'd taken. And yet, I found myself stepping up in front of everyone, a hand clasping my shoulder in a tight squeeze.

"You've got this buddy." Gaz spoke quietly, an encouraging edge in his voice, completely disregarded by the pain in his eyes. As I stepped up to the podium, my fingers grasped at the wood to stop my shaking hands. The microphone let out the deafening screech that they do in awkward situations.

"I uh.." I cleared my throat, looking out to the crowd. Suddenly everything felt real. The past few days came flooding back, hitting me like a train. The crowd waited for me to continue, but no words came out of my mouth. It was only then did I realize, I hadn't planned anything.

"I'm sorry, I'm bad at this.." I apologized and dropped my head down, wiping my eyes with my fingers with a shaky exhale.

"Have you ever met someone.. who just makes everything better?" I finally croaked out, looking back up at the crowd.

"It doesn't matter what happened that day, or who was lost; because they'd always say something to make the team smile? It is impossible to find that in this life of work." I chuckled dryly, my own words coming as a surprise to me.

"And.. you're always looking at them, thinking; god how are you this insufferable." The crowd let out a weak chuckle, my eyes darting to the various faces within.

"But you'd never think that you'd be standing up on a stage, at their funeral.."

"You'd never think you'd see the day where they didn't get back up, where they didn't make those stupidly annoying jokes. Because they always got back up, they always made those jokes, and they were always there when you woke up in this hell hole." My voice trailed off, all I could manage was a weak exhale.

"But now they're gone.. and you'll never hear their stupid voice again.. never see that goofy smile after too many drinks." I dropped my head again, leaning over the podium as I rocked on my heels. I've never felt so vulnerable in my life. It was hard to breathe, my mask only making it more of a challenge.

"That night.. will be a night that will never be forgotten." I managed to croak out after a minute of uncomfortable silence. "Not only, did we take down the most violent, and ruthless man; take down his empire.."

"But we lost one hell of a soldier, friend.. brother."

"Goodbye, John 'Soap' MacTavish. I wish there was more I could've done for you.."