The rain fell in sheets, turning the already desolate landscape into a battlefield of mud and shadows. Y/N tightened their grip on their rifle, scanning the tree line for any sign of movement. Taskforce 141 had been on edge for weeks, chasing rumors of a mole within their ranks. The name on everyone’s lips—Graves.
Graves had been with Taskforce 141 for years, a trusted operative who knew the ins and outs of every mission. That’s what made the betrayal so devastating. Y/N had never imagined they’d be hunting down someone they once called a friend.
A voice crackled in Y/N’s earpiece—Captain Price. “Y/N, we’re closing in on Graves’ last known position. Keep your head on straight.”
Y/N nodded, even though Price couldn’t see. “Roger that, Captain.”
Ghost and Soap were on the perimeter, sweeping the area, but Y/N had been sent ahead. They knew Graves better than anyone—his tactics, his hiding spots, the way he thought. They had trained together, fought together, and once upon a time, they had trusted him with their life.
It made what Y/N had to do now all the harder.
As Y/N moved deeper into the forest, the memories of their last conversation with Graves replayed in their mind. It had been weeks ago, back when suspicion first started to grow. Graves had been distant, cagey, always a step ahead of their questions. They had confronted him, but he brushed it off, laughing in that easygoing way of his, saying they were paranoid.
Y/N shook the thoughts away, pushing forward through the trees. The mission came first. Personal feelings didn’t matter, not when lives were at stake.
A branch snapped to the left, and Y/N froze, heart pounding. Slowly, they turned, rifle raised, eyes scanning the darkness. There—movement.
Without thinking, Y/N moved silently, slipping between the trees until they found a figure hunched over, tinkering with something near the base of a tree. Y/N’s breath hitched.
It was Graves.
He hadn’t seen them yet. His gear was soaked from the rain, and his attention was focused on the device in his hands—a detonator.
Y/N’s stomach dropped. It was worse than they thought. Graves wasn’t just running; he was setting a trap.
Quietly, Y/N raised their rifle, finger resting on the trigger. “Graves.”
He froze at the sound of their voice, shoulders tensing. Slowly, he turned, eyes meeting Y/N’s. For a moment, they saw the man they used to know—sharp, reliable, the one who had saved their life more times than they could count. But now, all they saw was the betrayal etched into his features.
“Y/N,” Graves said, his voice calm but strained. “I knew it’d be you.”
Y/N kept the rifle steady, heart pounding. “You shouldn’t have run.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Graves replied, standing slowly. “It’s bigger than you think. Bigger than any of us.”
“Don’t,” Y/N snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t try to justify this. You betrayed us. You betrayed the team. There’s no coming back from that.”
Graves sighed, looking down at the detonator in his hand. “You don’t understand. If you knew what I knew—”
“I don’t care what you think you know,” Y/N interrupted, voice hard. “You sold us out. People are dead because of you.”
Graves’ eyes flashed with something—regret, anger, maybe both. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said quietly. “But sometimes, you have to make sacrifices.”
Y/N’s hands tightened on the rifle. “You’re talking about people. Our team. You didn’t just sacrifice strangers—you sacrificed us.”
For a moment, the rain was the only sound between them, pattering softly against the leaves. Y/N’s mind raced, torn between anger and the bitter sting of betrayal. They had trusted him—relied on him—and now, here they were, with a gun trained on the man who had once been like a brother.
“You won’t pull the trigger,” Graves said, his voice steady. “I know you.”
Y/N’s heart pounded. He was right, in a way. This wasn’t like any other mission. It was personal.
Suddenly, the earpiece crackled to life. Ghost’s voice came through. “Y/N, status?”
Y/N hesitated, finger hovering over the trigger. Graves stared at them, unflinching. His words echoed in their mind: You won’t pull the trigger.
But this wasn’t about just them anymore. It was about the team—the lives Graves had endangered, the people he had betrayed.
“Graves,” Y/N said, their voice barely above a whisper. “You made your choice.”
Before Graves could respond, a sharp crack split the air. Y/N hadn’t fired. The shot had come from the trees—Ghost, moving in silently, had taken the shot.
Graves collapsed, his hand loosening from the detonator, eyes wide in surprise as the life drained from him.
Y/N stared at his body, emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. Relief, anger, sorrow—they all crashed together, but there was no time to process any of it.
Price’s voice came through the earpiece. “It’s over, Y/N. Come back to the team.”
Y/N took a breath, staring down at Graves one last time before turning away. The rain continued to fall, washing away the blood, but the scars of betrayal would linger far longer.
“On my way,” Y/N responded, voice hollow.
As they moved through the forest, they couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been lost that day—something they would never get back.
