Hey readers! I'm back with another story. I've been dying to post a new story, but school has been a real pain. GAAH! But anyway, I finally managed to post a little one shot with our two favorite 141s! This takes place after Loose Ends, and Ghost (in his POV) has a few final moments with his bug. This isn't the best fanfic I've written, but I'll do more that will hopefully be a little better (Maybe I can break out of my morbid-ness, and write something cute and cuddly at some point) But other than that, I hope you try to enjoy the story.


As soon as I saw Roach resting against the ground, I immediately hurried to his side. He had his eyes open, blinking rapidly twice while wincing as I grabbed hold of him, "I've got you, Roach! Hold on!" He whimpered a little as I started dragging him away from the the pack of blood-thirsty hostiles came heading our way. "Thunder Two-One, I've popped red smoke in the tree line! Standby to engage on my mark!" Roach was somewhat useful in this situation, shooting down the threats that we're getting too close to us. "Thunder Two-One, cleared hot!"

Flying over our heads, the chopper began cleaning up the mess rolling towards us. I glanced down at Roach, seeing that his grip on the AK-47 was loosening. "Shit," I swore, "Roach, hang in there!" I saw that our back up had everything under control. So I stopped dragging the sergeant, and hulled him up to his feet. I placed his arm around my shoulder. Up ahead we saw the LZ, and Shepherd was standing by it, "Do you have the DSM?"

"We've got it, sir," I confirmed.

"Good. That's one less loose end."

As we walked up to him, I saw him pull out his .44 Magnum, and he pulled the trigger on Roach. All that was heard from the bug was a short painful gasp as he fell out of my support. "No!" The scream was ripped from my mouth, combining anger and shock. I saw that I was Shepherd's next victim. But I didn't taste the bullet. I deflected his arm away from me, and sprayed dozens of bullets into his body with my ACR. He collapsed and went into the process of slowly dying. I quickly analyzed that every man standing here was my enemy. I grabbed the sergeant and quickly got both of us far enough from the choppers. They surprisingly didn't go after us. Probably because Shepherd was dead, and no soldier can act without orders.

I set Roach down, and looked at the bullet wound. It went straight through his stomach, and my heart twisted. There's no way I can tell him he's going to be okay. Even with one look in his eyes, Roach knew he wasn't going to live. "G-Ghost," He cried.

"I've got you, mate," I choked, squeezing his arm.

"I feel cold... All of a sudden."

I pulled him in closer, "Keep your eyes on me. Okay?"

He nodded and drew in a quivered gasp, "Don't leave me here."

My grip tightened on his arm, and I rested my free hand on his cheek, using my thumb to wipe the tears bursting out of his hazel eyes. "I'll stay right here. I won't leave."

He exhaled again, this time grinning weakly, "Ghost..."

"Talk to me," I sniffed.

"Can I... I mean-" He gasped in pain, "Can you... T-Take your mask off?"

I blinked for a second. Since he was the FNG in the 141, he's the only person that has never seen my face. I've kept my baklava on, and not once has he ever seen the shade of my eyes. This is the last time he'll see me; this is his dying wish. And I did it. I removed my red sunglasses, and pulled off the baklava. I could imagine I was a mess right now, but I didn't care. Roach chuckled weakly, "You're crying?"

I nodded, getting choked on my words. Then I finally spoke, "You're my brother, bug."

The sergeant gasped, a bit surprised, "B-Brother?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Heh..." Roach's grin faded, and his painful gasps stopped. His weight dropped and he now remained motionless. I inhaled and clenched my fist. He really is dead. The 'roach' finally got squished. I leaned my forehead into his and sobbed heavily. "I'm sorry." I held onto him so tightly, feeling as if I could bring him back to life. This really can't be happening. I sat up for a moment, looking at his face.

He was so young, and now his youthful soul is bloodstained and shattered. His eyes were still open. Those hazel eyes were expressionless, yet I could somehow see they were still filled with fear. I closed the eyes and rubbed his forehead.

Rest easy.

Gary Sanderson.