Whispers in the Dark (Ghost/Konig)

(Twenty Seven)

Warning: this chapter contains mature scenes

*Quinn's POV*

It's wasn't long til we were landing back in Mexico, and Alejandro's laughter filled my ears. He gave Soap a large hug first, before turning his attention back to me.

"Ah, Hermosa, missed me hm?" (Beautiful)

He pulled me into a hug, letting his arm linger on my waist as he pulled back. "It's good to see you," I reply happily. He sends me a charming smile, cut short by Ghost behind me.

"We should get your stuff to your room." My cheeks heat up, as I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are glaring at the hand on my waist, only moving once Alejandro releases me.

I glance back at Alejandro, whose eyebrow is raised in questioning, but he doesn't say anything about it. Ghost motions for me to lead the way, his presence close behind as we walk.

"You didn't have to do that, I was fine." I say lightly, dropping a bag onto the bed farthest from the door. I had forgotten the sharing rule, considering I was on my own during our prior stay.

He grunts in response, dropping his bags on the other bed, and making me freeze in place. My heart race picks up to a mile a minute, but I bite my tongue, worried I might say the wrong thing and he chooses to stay with Soap instead.

"Dinner?"

"That sounds nice," I reply, turning to face him, and acting as calm and normal as I can. I follow him down the hall, and soon we are seated with everyone else, as laughter and chatter fills the room.

Ghost claims his seat beside me, his shoulder brushing mine softly. I smile to myself, enjoying his proximity, and remembering what Konig told me.

I've yet to tell Ghost, unsure the best way to do so. "I heard you took a fall," Alejandro breaks up the conversation, addressing Ghost.

He hums, not glancing up from his plate. "That I did." Alejandro grins wider, "well, do tell the story!"

The blood drains from my face as images flood my mind once more.

"Tell me what hurts."

But I can't. Shaking hands lift to his side, oozing blood quicker than it should. "Yo- Your-"

"I'm fine love," he reassures, stopping as he finally noticed. The liquid is warm, sticky, unnatural as its coats my fingers.

He pushes himself off of me, realizing flashing in his eyes.

It's all my fault.

"Ghost." I try to speak, the words catching in my throat in a choked sob.

The image disappears as a pressure on my thigh brings me back, my eyes darting to find Ghost's hand  as the source.

"Don't remember much, better ask Soap."

"Johnny!"

My own scream echos in my head, Ghost's dead weight from my fingers.

"Ah, Quinn saw-" Soap catches himself, my gaze catching his making him stop.

"Quinn was there too?"

"Soap was, um, was closer."

"Eyes on me," Price commands, gentle yet firm, pulling my gaze from the Ghost's smeared blood down the hall, the bodies littering the room around us from the men who trapped us here.

Another squeeze, my hand moving to lay on top of his, squeezing for comfort. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, not bothering to hear what Soap says.