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

Empty

He needed to shower, and recollect himself.

Simply going a few weeks without you had nearly made him tip over the edge. He'd felt like a cup being filled to the top, as the water threatened to seep over the tip of the glass. It'd been maddening.

Frustratingly enough, he hadn't realized what you'd meant to him until you were gone.

Ghost hadn't intended to stop by your room last night. Before his mind had caught up with his body, he had already been standing in front of your door, arm raised in a position to knock. He hadn't intended to say those words, or hold you.

Now that he had, he couldn't let you go. Though, he supposed that wasn't entirely a bad thing.

He entered his quarters, and went straight to his bathroom.

He turned the knob over the tub and clicked the piece on top of it up before Ghost stripped himself. He hesitated over his balaclava. Ultimately, he decided to do without it.

He draped the mask over the counter next to his gloves, and stepped into the steady stream of water coming from the showerhead.

Ghost stepped out once he'd finished scrubbing himself, and wrapped his lower half in a towel.

He stared at the mask, before looking up at his own reflection.

Several days old stubble littered his jaw, his nose was still crooked from being broken numerous times, and the multitude of scars ran up and down his face, splitting the top of his lip.

Simon always stared back at him.

Ghost averted his gaze, choosing to shave, instead.

He focused his attention to his chin, scrapping at the growth with his razor. Over the years he'd gotten efficient at shaving quickly. It was a necessity for missions, as having too much stubble made the balaclava uncomfortable.

He finished, and left the bathroom, tugging the mask over his head, already having patted his face dry with a separate towel.

His dog tags chilled his skin, as he dressed into a different hoodie, and then his combat jeans, before pulling on his gloves.

His discarded towel has been laid up on the back of a wooden chair to dry as he made his way over to his bed.

He sits on the edge, before laying down.

Ghost felt conflicted.

He couldn't let you go, yet his mind was telling him to. He could get hurt. Betrayed, left to rot. But Simon cooed for him to get closer, to bundle you up in his arms and never let go.

He wanted to protect you. But why?

You were his squadmate, so obviously he should protect you. He'd done it before, but not to the degree he had with you. Searching for you when you'd gotten separated was something he'd definitely never done. It'd always been mission first, everything else came second.

He'd do the same for Soap if he'd been in your situation.

Ghost knew it was different, though. You and Johnny weren't the same.

Something else was there with you where it wasn't with Soap.

But what?

Ghost couldn't place it, so he decided to sleep on it.

A knock came to your door, prompting you to sit up. "It's..open," you sleepily informed. You were aware enough to know that it was still early, the sun not even gracing the sky.

The door opened as you clicked the lamp on, the warm glow lighting and filling the space.

"Splinter." Your head immediately darted to the doorway.

Price let himself in, closing the door. "How are ya holdin' up?"

You paused, sleep still fogging your mind, "Fine."

Price was here because he had something to inform you of. You already suspected what it was.

"You're departin' in a half hour." He watched your expression, you simply nodded and looked down at your blanket. "Figured you could use a hand with your things."

You chuckled, "I could use a few legs too." Price smiled, and shook his head at your humor.

Price had helped you onto the plane, strapping you and your things in, before bidding you goodbye.

It was for the best, drilled at the back of your mind.

Before you knew it, you were in the air, and your mind went blank.

Days passed by as several flight layovers later, and you were in the doorway of your new home. A small cold and frighteningly empty apartment.