The Ghost of Task Force 141 [Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader]

You sat there on your bed, processing what Price had told you, for a long while, absentmindedly tracing the patterns on the blanket draped upon the bed.

It made sense, of course. You understand why. But it was utterly heartbreaking all the same.

There was no one to go back to at home. There wasn't even one. No family. No friends. That was all here.

Regardless, you couldn't wallow for long in your situation. Price hadn't been specific when he'd mentioned your discharge, but you figured as soon as weather conditions were clear, you'd be shipped back off to the States to begin processing. Quick, easy, and annoyingly efficient.

You didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to Soap and Gaz. Even Ghost, no matter how frustrating he'd been recently.

Doubt crawled at the back of your mind, whispering in your ear, and sowing its seeds. All of those conversations and intimate moments had only been a fling. A one night stand that ultimately meant nothing to him.

But that couldn't be right.

Soap told you he had witnessed how torn apart Ghost had become while you were unconscious. He hadn't gone into much detail, but the look he bore on his face told you he was telling the truth.

And yet, you hadn't seen a glimpse of the man.

Until now.

A quiet knock from your door pulled you out of your thoughts.

"It's open," you stated flatly. Perhaps Price had decided to drop another bomb on you today. You were quite frankly tired of having unexpected bombs dropped on you.

The door handle silently turned and opened, as a black gloved skeleton hand came into view before revealing the rest of the visitor's broad form. Ghost, of course.

He was dressed in civvies. A hoodie and gray sweatpants, with his hard skull balaclava.

"Sergeant," his voice was calm as it washed over you, immediately settling the doubts you were having.

"Ghost," a smile tugged at your lips as he stood in the doorway.

He paused, not stepping a foot into the room, seemingly asking for permission with just his stare. You quickly ushered out, "Come in,", and he began to enter. The door softly clicked closed behind him, blocking out the cold air from the warm room.

You listened as his familiar boots thumped across the floor of your room before stopping at the foot of your bed. He scanned the room, taking note of all in all empty state, before stopping at you.

"Sitrep," he commanded.

You raised a brow, somehow not surprised by his simple statement, but more amused.

"Solid. Doc said I'm healing just fine."

He grunted, as he broke eye contact, eyes sliding down to where the rest of your calves would be. His brows slightly furrowed, and had you not been examining his expression, you'd probably have missed it.

You watched his face, "Are you alright?"

Ghost's eyes suddenly flicked back to you. Trying to place your facial expression, like he was trying to analyze you.

He hesitated before responding, "Affirmative." It was like trying to get information out of a brick wall. Though, that's probably exactly what you were currently trying to do. All the light banter and jokes between the two of you were gone, devoid of this situation. It felt as though you were right back where you had started.