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

Adrift

You would give anything to hear those stories, and more, once again.

The bags you'd grabbed with you were left by the door. You had no energy to drag them into your room and properly place things. Carefully, you wheeled yourself into your room, making use of the wheelchair you'd been provided. You hadn't quite gotten used to it, but you figured that would come with time.

It wasn't too tight of a squeeze through the doorway, and you steadily approached your bed. You placed the wheelchair just so, that way you wouldn't have to worry about slipping onto the ground while trying to get into it.

The room was equipped with two nightstands, a Queen sized bed, a medium sized closet, and two white dressers. They really had gone all out. Your retirement gift, you supposed.

Not that this was exactly what you had imagined when it came to that.

Regardless, you hoisted yourself onto the mattress, intent on getting some proper rest. For the past several days it'd been barely fulfilling naps and endless amounts of frustration over your current condition. The pain meds they had you on weren't helping in your circumstances either, feeling more like a hindrance than something that was supposed to be aiding you. You dug your phone out from the pocket on the backside of the wheelchair, pressing the power button down enough for the logo to flicker to life and begin booting up. You'd had it turned off for the duration of your trip, deciding it was best to let things lie.

It was better this way. It didn't sound at all convincing to you.

While you waited for it to finish turning on, you plugged in the charger into the wall outlet, conveniently placed at nightstand-level which was similar to what they did in hotels, and plugged the phone in as well. After it was done, you typed in your password, and simply stared at the homescreen.

No notifications, aside from the weather. Nothing.

You raised an eyebrow, not what you had been expecting in the slightest. That is until a moment passed, and all of a sudden your phone lit up like the fury of a thousand Spencer's related toys. Your eyes flicked over them, most of them pertaining to missed calls, and dozens of text messages. Surprisingly, they mainly pertained to Soap.

You clicked on his first.

'You awake, lass?" (6:34 AM)

'C'mon lazy bones. Ur gonna miss breakfast' (7:04 AM)

'Where r u' (7:15 AM)

'Splinter. This ain't funny. Answer your calls' (7:15 AM)

'Who else is gonna throw snowballs w me?

Price is being vague. Won't say much.

Did ya leave?' (7:56 AM)

'When ur ready to talk, send me a msg. We're all worried' (5:42 PM)

A pang of guilt ran through you. You skimmed through the rest of the messages, mostly him talking about what they had been doing, and how they missed you. You felt your throat constricting once more as you gave a hard swallow. It wasn't fair.

They deserved better.

You let out a sigh, blinking your eyes quickly in an attempt to stave off the emotions that were so desperately wanting to spill over. You didn't want them to. You didn't want to wallow in this place too much. Though, there wasn't much else you could think of doing regardless.

You turned to Gaz's messages, his being similar to Soap's.

Then to Price, mainly instructing you to give a sitrep once you were ready, and promises of steady paperwork and how he was trying to convince them to simply put you on leave until the Doctors knew more.