Simon "Ghost" Riley oneshots

Outcast

And they think I can be interested in someone else,
My heart and I are written for their name.
I never drank love except for once,
And everyone after you, I spilled their cup.

Chaos-a word you were familiar with since childhood. It was the air you breathed, the constant drumbeat of your existence. Growing up as a hijabi girl in a world that saw you as too good for nothing, you learned early on that you didn't fit in. An outcast. Always watching the world from the edges, never part of it. You had made peace with that.

But nothing could prepare you for the chaos of war, the kind that turned every breath into a gamble. Task Force 141 wasn't meant for someone like you, not by their standards. But here you were, in the thick of it. And somehow, it felt right.

Until the shots rang out.

Two sharp cracks in the air, followed by the scream. Your scream. The world exploded around you, the ground vibrating under the impact of bombs going off nearby. The metallic stench of blood and dust filled your nostrils as you fell to the ground, ears ringing, vision blurred.

"Silence."

You muttered the word to yourself, trying to steady your ragged breathing. Trying to focus. But the world wouldn't stop spinning. The chaos wouldn't stop.

The radio strapped to your vest crackled, and you could barely make out Ghost's voice cutting through the static.

"Captain Zara! Your status," he barked, his voice heavy with command.

You couldn't answer. Your lips moved, but no sound came out, only the tremble of your breath and the sting of hot tears on your cheeks. You were supposed to be stronger than this. You were supposed to be ready for anything.

The static buzzed again, louder this time. "Zara! How copy?" Ghost's voice again, more urgent, more strained.

You pressed the button on your radio, your fingers trembling. "What's my status?" you whispered, the words catching in your throat. "An outcast. That's what I am."

There was a beat of silence. And then Ghost's voice came again, this time laced with something you hadn't heard before. Worry. Maybe even fear.

"Zara! Tell me you're okay." His voice was louder, cracking through the static, almost pleading.

Your mind raced. Bullets whizzed by overhead, and the bombs kept detonating in the distance, but it wasn't the chaos outside that gripped you-it was the storm inside. The words, the looks, the whispers you'd heard your whole life. They haunted you more than any bullet ever could.

"Bullets... they can't harm me," you muttered, fingers pressing down hard on the radio button. "But words..."

Your voice broke. You tried to steady your breathing, but each gasp came out more ragged than the last. The weight of years, of being misunderstood, judged, left to prove your worth time and time again-it was all crashing down on you now. Out here, in the middle of a war zone, it wasn't the enemy that was breaking you. It was the voices that had been with you long before this mission.

"Zara..." Ghost's voice softened, the sharp edge of his command giving way to something gentler, more desperate. "Goddammit, Zara! I'm coming for you. Just tell me where you are."

You could hear the plea in his words, the rawness of it. He wasn't just Ghost in this moment. He was Simon-someone who cared, who wasn't about to leave you behind. And yet, the weight of your own doubt pressed down on you, harder than any wound.

"It's already over, Simon," you gasped into the radio, struggling for breath. "Don't come for an outcast. That's what I am."

The radio crackled, but this time, there was no response, only the sound of your ragged breathing and the distant hum of explosions. The chaos roared around you, but inside, it was quiet. You closed your eyes, letting the static lull you into....