A/N: Just to be clear, I don't plan on doing much with this, and I'm likely leaving it a one-shot, unless the masses of COD fanboys demand I continue. Backstory- My friend and I were playing Black Ops 3 multiplayer, he was Prophet and I was Outrider, and after an hour or two of slaughtering bots, we'd become a pretty good team. At one point, my friend said, "If we were streaming this, anyone watching would've already left the page and written some OutriderxProthet fanfiction…
By the way, I know NOTHING about COD locations and such, so I'm filling in customs I'm not familiar about with other shooter games I have a bit more knowledge on.
-0-0-0-0- Black Ops Base, July 17th 2061, 0900 hours -0-0-0-0-
"Specialists, intel reports a force of CDP elites near the Blue Nile River, capturing a large game hunting lodge which overlooks a large plot of military land. You will recapture and drive the CDP out. Transport departs at 1000 hours. DISMISSED!," The commander briefed the nine elites gathered in the Black Ops war room.
After more mission specs, each specialist made their way to their lockers to gather their gear, before navigating to the hanger, where a dropship awaited them. One by one, the nine elites sat down, strapped in, and launched.
-0-0-0-0- Outrider's POV -0-0-0-0-
I leaned back in the uncomfortable dropship seat and pulled my forested camouflage hood a little more over my eyes. Honestly, the other eight were strange, foreign, outsiders. Since I'd arrived at the base in May, I'd tried to distance myself from them, and the most awkward moments were the silent ones on the dropships. Even the days I managed to get an end seat, the mercenary next to me always attempted to create small talk, which I routinely ignored.
Of course, ignoring them didn't mean I knew nothing about them. I knew plenty about each man and woman (or robot) in the dropship from their chatter on trips such as these, and sometimes, I wished I didn't.
The pilot stirred me from my thoughts, announcing over the intercoms, "Specialists, this battle takes place outside of the respawn technology's range, so please use caution. In the event of death, respawn modules are now active on all exosuits." I sighed, partially in fear and partially in confusion. Respawn modules? In my two month in and out of battle, I could not recall ever having to use a respawn module. I assumed that was what the implate on my left gauntlet was for, as "RESPAWN MODULE" was engraved on it in thick letters. I bit my lip, not sure if I should ask Prophet, who was unlucky enough to be seated to my left, if he knew how to use it. I tried to speak to my teammates the least I could, except for calling out snipers, enemy deaths and the likes.
-0-0-0-0- Prophet's POV -0-0-0-0-
I heard a quiet whisper from my right. "Hey, Prophet, can I have a second?" I fliched, since the voice was not any I'd heard before, and I assumed it a glitch in the DNI chip in my head, as it had been recently upgraded. I flexed my bio-mechanical arm to see if I could straighten it out.
"Prophet, hello?" the voice came again, and I opened up the interface in my mind. Everything checked out, oddly enough.
"Prophet, I need a bit of help here" unbelieving, I looked over, and saw the partially-covered warm brown eyes of Overwatch staring back at me.
"Sorry, but how exactly does the respawn module work? I've never had to use it before." she quietly asked me, and I opened my own respawn module to demonstrate, still a bit unsure of how to talk to the usually silent mercenary.
"This," I pointed to the entry slot, "Is the entry port. A fallen Specialist's dog tag goes in here, and activating it in close proximity will bring them back from the dead, as long as they haven't been gone for too long." She softly thanked me and turned back, as did I. The rest of the flight was uneventful, and fifteen minutes later we arrived at the target destination.
-0-0-0-0- Outrider's POV -0-0-0-0-
"This dropship is protected by UAV-reflective panels and is currently employing active camouflage, as soon as you all are ready, I will open the bay doors, which will cancel both," The pilot announced to the nine of us.
I checked my LOCUS rifle and dual machine pistols, both of which I'd just gotten back from the paint shop, pleased to see my matching set of chameleon green weapons were ready to go. I boosted the power of my exosuit for the initial dash and felt for my quiver and the handful of explosive sonic arrows as well as my treasured compound bow, the Sparrow. All my equipment where it should be, I nodded ready to the rest of the Specialists, who were prepping their weapons as well. The bay opened, and the nine Black Ops Elites jumped out and scattered. I made my across to an ornate shack and leaned my rifle out the window, as it was my job as the designated sniper to make first contact.
I cycled a round into the chamber and lined my crosshair up to the head of a CDP soldier who was sitting high on a hill with a rifle of his own, scanning for any invaders. I flipped the safety off and pulled the trigger, blowing the enemy sniper's head into multiple pieces.
"Sniper down, engage!" I announced over the comms, as the loud boom of my LOCUS would surly alert the rest of the CDPs, which would begin the battle. Fortunately, with the enemy sniper down, my teammates could operate more freely without the fear of a surprise brain removal. I shouldered and secured my sniper rifle and unsnapped my machine pistols from their holsters, before charging into the fray.
-0-0-0-0- mp_Hunted, July 17th, 2061 1100 hours -0-0-0-0-
I cycled the LOCUS's bolt again, having returned to my sniper spot after a near-death experience with one of the enemy's infantry, and attempted another shot at an enemy Reaper, having missed the first shot. My sniper round pounded a hole in the overturned truck CDP's Reaper ran past, and before I could bolt another shot, it turned and fired the remainder of its magazine at me. I felt multiple bullets chew through my armor and exosuit, and the searing pain of the shots hitting my lungs and stomach shook through me. Respawn would've already claimed me, if it wasn't for the fact we were well outside its broad influence.
I winced, holding back tears, as the acids in my ruptured stomach began to freely leak out and break down my other organs. Struggling to breathe, I tried to yell for help over the radios, but only a faint wheezing sound escaped my mouth. My eyes began to tear up, overwhelmed by the extreme pain, but I could not cry, only choke and wheeze. I began to see black spots, followed by my vision greying out and blurring. My head started to throb, and I managed to reason the acids were destroying my heart. I couldn't move my arms, or my legs, all I could do was lay in my hot, bloody pool at death's doorstep and wait for him to open up.
My DNI started to glitch out due to the lack of blood, and everything began to fuzz and blur and mesh, the sounds of gunfighting becoming more and more unclear as the floor below me started to feel as if it simply wasn't there. I could faintly hear footsteps approaching, and I tried desperately to hold on to the last bit of life in me. I took two more struggled breaths, before I blacked out.
-0-0-0-0- Prophet's POV -0-0-0-0-
I ducked behind a crate to reload my rifle, and saw a notification in the corner of my vision as if someone was speaking on the radio, but no sound came through. I replayed the transmission over, and managed to pick out a small wheeze in the background. Someone was dying. I checked the voice, and Outrider's name appeared. My DNI quickly highlighted her location, and I set off, with Battery giving me cover.
I arrived at the hut she had been sniping in, and was greeted by her dead body sprawled across the floor in a dark red pool of blood, and three bulletholes in her abdomen, staining the mercenary's forest-green clothes an unpleasant red. Her hood had been thrown back, and revealed messy hair strewn on the ground. Her caramel-brown eyes stared up at the ceiling, although they lacked the lively spark I'd noticed on the dropship and her mouth was slightly open, and blood trickled from it.
"Overwatch down, attempting revival!" I alerted the team before feeling for the dog tag around her neck. I quickly snapped it off its beaded chain and slid the tag into my respawn module. I placed my bionic arm on her forehead and activated the module. Energy flowed out and into the sniper's limp body, and she jerked. The color slowly returned to her eyes, and she gasped for air, sitting up on the bloody wood floor.
"Overwatch revived, escorting to the dropship!" I reported over the comms.
-0-0-0-0- Outrider's POV -0-0-0-0-
With blurred and teary eyes, I sat up in my sticky pool of blood and looked up at my savior, Prophet. He offered me a bionic arm, and I took it, shakily standing up. My chest stung, and I let out a sharp gasp, falling down to my knees. Prophet crouched down and put his arms out behind him, wordlessly motioning for me to climb on his back. I pulled myself up onto the half-human fighter's back, and put my head against him as I felt his augmented arms reach around to hold my legs up. I held tight as he took off in a sprint I didn't know possible for a human to make.
An enemy came up behind us, and I sensed a message in my DNI. Hold Tight. I held on as I felt my entire body jerk backwards, and when I weakly looked up, we were behind the adversary, which Prophet quickly dispatched of.
Seconds later, we arrived at the dropship, where a medical team was waiting. Prophet lifted my broken and tired body off his back and onto a stretcher. Thank You, I mouthed to the super-soldier as he smiled back and ran off into the heat of battle.
-0-0-0-0- Black Ops Medical Bay, July 18th, 2061, 0100 hours -0-0-0-0-
I woke up to a quiet, sterile white room. I looked down to see several IVs in my abdomen, as well a brace on my neck and a machine that looked akin to a small freezer next to my bed connected to my upper body. Usually, I did nothing to my hair and simply pulled a hood over it, and I was sure it was showing. I scanned the room, and noticed a figure sitting in a chair next to the door, reading a book. I squinted, still not quite used to my DNI in its offline state, and figured it was a doctor or nurse.
I tried to talk, but I could not get any sound to come. I tried again, and nothing. Desperate, I shuffled a bit in the bed, which made enough noise for the man to look up. He stood up, and stepped closer to the bed. The closer I looked, the more I realized the figure approaching was none other than Prophet. He walked up to my bed and kneeled down, eye level with me.
Thank you for saving me back there, I mouthed to the future soldier, I would be dead if it wasn't for you. I hoped his DNI would be able to decipher what I was saying. "You've saved many lives out there, more than I have, soldier." He said, "If that sniper had had a fraction more of a second to aim, Firebreak and Spectre would be dead, followed by the rest of us." Why come back for me though? Why risk your neck for a support sniper? "Because," He warmly smiled, "It's what friends do"
A/N: I'm not sure what to say after that. Hopefully it was worth postponing my other stories (speaking of which, if you found me my this, check them out!) for this. Also, if this is something you (yes, you there reader) want to see more of, drop a review or a follow and I'll hop on updating this, because, to be honest, this was intended as a joke to my friend, but it was actually very enjoyable to write. My first official pairing too, so that's a plus. Unfortunatly, there isn't any Outrider or Prother tags in the character list, so hopefully they add those. Pix out!
