Readers, be advised. This one-shot contains depressing content!


*Roach's POV*

I jolted awake and sat up, trying to recover from the recent nightmare. Shaky breaths overflowed from my mouth as I felt my heart beating through my chest. Three years. Three whole damn years, and not once was I able to have an undisturbed night of peace and rest. Since I was recruited into the 141, I knew my orders. I had to fight. When I fought, I killed. It was a difficult task to complete, and when I looked around at the others, it seemed that they had it under control, especially Ghost. Then here I am, nearly broken and weak on my knees mentally, yet I kept it all hidden. There were times where I expressed fatigue and anxiety, but I kept saying two words that were tearing me apart on the inside.

"I'm fine."

I looked over, seeing that my two room mates, Meat and Royce were still soundly asleep. Rubbing my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and got up. I slipped into a black T-shirt and jeans along with zipping up my 141 hoodie, which I received two days after my recruitment. I'd been quick and thoughtful for the two sleeping men as I left the dorm. I went outside and gasped a breath of the chilled air. I quivery sighed. Before I knew it, I felt something warm and wet slide down both sides of my face. I leaned against the wall and let my wrecked emotions consume me. I'm not alright. I've finally broke. I felt a sinking and empty feeling in my chest. I've never been this sad before, not ever in my entire life. I inhaled, not really getting any oxygen into my lungs. My eyes were squeezed shut, and my hands were covering my tear-filled lids.

I've killed so many people. I've watched people be killed. How are these soldiers used to it, and I'm not? How do they sleep calmly through their nightmares? I put my arms at my side and sighed again, spacing out for a minute and letting my thoughts wander in my empty head. While thinking, I sort of started calming down. One specific thought made me especially calm, yet had me a bit scared just by thinking about it. However, I knew that this was the key to ending my pain I felt. I stood up straight, walking back to my room. Meat and Royce were still in their same places. I silently kneeled down and opened my drawer, pulling out a .44 Caliber along with one bullet. I took one last look at my allies before exiting the room.

I wandered the dark corridors and into the bathroom, across from the captain barracks. Captain Mactavish... I think I'll miss you the most. He had never given up on me, even if there were moments where I couldn't be saved. There was that time in Kazakhstan. It was ass cold, and I remember how strong the fear was as we scaled up a wall of ice. I nearly fell off and down to my death. But Mactavish was there, catching me before I slipped and fell. He's saved my life so many times I've lost count.

I locked the door behind me and walked in circles a few times. My shooting hand shook violently and I was overcome with emotions once again. I felt a load of bile build up in my abdomen, and it inched up my body. I lunged for the sink, gagging out a river of vomit twice. Sighing, I stood up straight and pointed the handgun under my chin. I breathed through my teeth so quickly, and I backed up against the wall. I placed the tip of the caliber inside my mouth, my finger on the trigger.

Mactavish won't be here to save me this time.


*Mactavish's POV*

I quickly sat up as I heard a loud "bang" coming across from my room. "What the hell was that?" I shuddered, quickly getting some pants on and bursting out of my room. Ghost seemed to be awake already, trying to get the bathroom door open. It was dead silent in there, and the door was apparently locked. "Back up, Ghost," I ordered, and I forcefully kicked the door open. There appeared to be no threats in the room, but there was blood, and lots of it. There was vomit in the sink and the signs lead up to the motionless sergeant laying on the floor.

"Holy shit..." I ran and kneeled down next to Roach, taking him into my arms. "Roach? Roach! This isn't fucking funny!" No response came from the sergeant, and I just now saw his .44 caliber slip and fall out of his hand and into the puddle of blood. "Oh my God... Ghost, fetch a doctor! And do it quickly!" Ghost did so, and I eyed the pale man in my arms. Roach's face was a little pink and there were clear lines from where his tears have been. A stream of blood came out one side of his mouth, but more poured from the back of his head. His hazel eyes were shot wide open, and his skin was cold as snow. I clenched my fist against his shirt. There's nothing we can do for him now. I tightened my teeth and exhaled.

This shouldn't have happened.

We could've done something.


Okay, so first of all. This idea just came out of nowhere when I was going through a moody teenage mood. Second, I also take depression very seriously. If you or someone you know is suffering from depression or having thoughts of suicide, seek help immediately! Your life is more important than you think it is.