Simon "Ghost" Riley oneshots

My baby shot me down

The night was bitter, biting into your skin as you stood frozen on the SAS base. The cold wind tugged at your clothes, but the chill in your bones came from something else, something darker.

Ghost stood in front of you, a monolith of darkness, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade. "Don't you ever think about this," he warned, his voice a rough, jagged thing, "or I will forget who you are."

(I was 5, and he was 6. We rode on horses made of sticks.)

Memories slipped into the edges of your mind, unbidden and unwanted. You remembered a time before all this, two children running through fields of green, wild with laughter, playing games with sticks as swords. He always won. You always let him win.

But this wasn't a game anymore. Your gun was heavy in your hands, trembling as you pointed it at Captain Price, the man who had taken everything from you. "He killed my father. He killed General Shepherd."

(He wore black, and I wore white. He would always win the fight.)

Ghost's words came like cold steel, merciless, and unyielding. "Your father was no one but a traitor," he spat, "who betrayed us, who betrayed his own country."

Tears burned at your eyes, blurring your vision. "He had no right," you sobbed, the words breaking apart as they left your lips, "he had no right to kill him like that. In his office. At his desk."

(Bang bang, he shot me down, bang bang I hit the ground.)

Ghost's voice became a command. "Put your gun down. Now." His tone was edged with something deadly, a finality that left no room for hesitation. "Or I will shoot without a second thought."

You didn't move. Couldn't move. Your hands held the gun steady, aimed at Price. The weight of everything, betrayal, loss, the unbearable grief, it held you there, unmoving, locked in place.

(Bang bang, that awful sound... bang bang, my baby shot me down...)

"Y/N!" Ghost's voice was a growl now, a beast barely restrained. "This is your last warning. I will forget who you are."

For a moment, you searched his eyes-those dark, stormy eyes hidden behind the mask. You searched for Simon, the boy you once knew. The one who used to be soft, who used to laugh. The boy who once held your heart in his hands.

You saw him. For just a moment, you saw the boy you grew up with, the one who shielded you from the world just as you had shielded him and Tommy from the bullies in school.

(Seasons came and changed the time.)

You remembered everything, the laughter, the quiet moments of peace when he found solace in your arms, the way you used to look at him and see a future, one full of love and warmth.

(When I grew up, I called him mine.)

But the man standing before you now wasn't that boy anymore. His eyes were hollow, devoid of the warmth they once held. The mask hid more than just his face. It hid the soul you once knew, the one you loved.

(He would always laugh and say, remember when we used to play...)

Once, you played games. You used to pretend to shoot each other, laughing as you fell to the ground, knowing it was all make-believe. But this time, there was no pretending. This time, the guns were real, and the stakes were life and death.