Strength Together

Chapter 7

TW: Violence, language, mentions of scars/injury
WC: 1.5k

"Should be in and out. You set?" Price asked Ghost before they took off into the night. Ghost nodded. Price gave him a good pat to the front of his armor, tossed Ophelia a cheeky smile and shut the door behind him.

"Ready to be bored?" Ghost asked as he took a seat on the dusty sofa in the safe house.

"I hope it stays boring." Ophelia sighed as she sat on a cushioned stool on the other side of the coffee table that sat between them.

"You and me both."

"Ghost? Why the mask?" Ophelia braved the question she had been wanting to ask since the day she arrived.

"To hide my face."

Ophelia gave him the dirtiest look she could muster. "You know what I meant."

"Maybe I'll tell you someday but today isn't that day. I'm not lying either though." He said with a soft chuckle. He wore the scarier of the masks on missions, the one that was all black with white lines going down the chin and forehead and the top half of a skull sewn to it.

"Why'd you pick something so scary?" Ophelia asked as she shifted on the uncomfortable stool.

"It's the image I want to portray. Scary. Makarov's men and other enemies fear the skull. I heard them muttering 'bout it when we hacked their coms last."

"I don't disagree with them. I'm not a fan of it." Ophelia could only look at him when he wore this mask for short amounts of time before she felt an uneasy chill run down her spine. "I'm scared to ask but..." She trailed off only for Ghost to answer her, knowing her question.

"Yes, it's actually real. I wasn't lying." A deep, ominous chuckle came from behind his mask. "The skull belonged to a Simon Riley."

"But that's y-"

"Mhm. Don't say it on the field. It's a story I hope I never tell you, so for your own sanity, don't ask." His tone darkened as he spoke of the skull, as if it was a deeper and more painful conversation to have with anyone. Ophelia guessed no one minus maybe Price really knew about the skull.

"Can I ask about your scars?" There was one blaring scar she always pretended to ignore as she cared for him back in the clinic, one that felt illegal to even look at.

"Had a partner named Roach. We were both shot and burned. They thought I was dead, tried to burn me too, Price pulled me out. I know that's the one you're talking 'bout." Ghost was quick to answer, something he never was before when she'd poke at him in the common rooms of the base. It was like he was finally opening up and it almost excited Ophelia.

"Where were you shot? I didn't see any other significant bullet wounds other than the one I patched up."

"Right 'ere." Ghost tapped the left side of his masked head. "That's why they thought I was dead too. Unluckily for them, the bastard who took the shot had terrible aim and it grazed my skull, cracking it but never piercing through."

"Ghost, about 57% of your upper chest is burned, how on earth did you survive that and a gunshot to the head?" picking up where she left off in the novel known as Ghost that she found herself enamored with, she continued to question him.

"Can't kill what's already classified as dead." He chuckled, something she was becoming accustomed to hearing. It was always a deep and rumbly chuckle but it felt like a nice cup of steamy black tea to her.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The two continued to chat, mainly Ophelia bombarding him with questions about the scars she had memorized that pepper his chest and arms. Time seemed to be moving incredibly slow for the two though as they waited for Price and Gaz's team to finish the mission. It had been about two hours since they first left the safe house.