(What This World Has Come To)
I don't break eye contact with Gadget as we stand in the unearthly quiet of the kitchen. She stares up at me. Everything about her is screaming in pain and fear and longing and for a moment I think she's going to start crying all over again or apologize for saying that. Instead, her brown eyes just stay wide open in disbelief. I shift uncomfortably beneath her gaze. We're at a stale-mate; neither of us having anything to say in our own defense nor wanting to say anything else to hurt the other. I wonder, for a moment, if I shouldn't have said anything on the matter and let it slide. The look on her face is proof enough that she's in no mind-set to deal with this, let alone the fact that we were lead straight into this trap by Shepherd…like some sort of flock of sheep.
Ironic, isn't it? Shepherd led his flock—his pride-and-joy-squad of 'prima-donna' men, who followed his orders for years, trusted him with their lives—to a slaughter that none of us could truly ever escape.
Suits the name.
In a sick, twisted kind of way at least.
He took the best of us; Gadget and Roach, who were both so innocent, uncontaminated by the horrors of mutiny and betrayal, Mactavish, Scarecrow, and Ozone who were the most trustworthy men I ever laid eyes on, Archer and Toad, Worm, Meat… my bloody FAMILY; and tore us all apart in a way that can never be fixed.
I look away from Gadget, unable to stand the screaming pain from her eyes anymore. It all hurts…my head, my arms…mostly my shoulder.
I can't even look at the woman I love and tell her it'll be all right.
Because I know it will never be all right.
All the aches and pains that Roba and his men had inflicted upon me were never lifted by the love of my makeshift family or even Emily's healing smile. I still heard his laugh in the middle of the night, could still feel the pain of a thousand different wounds given by the hands and blades of his men, still see my own face in that god-forsaken room of mirrors.
I want to tear myself apart.
I can practically feel my sanity slipping across the linoleum of the kitchen's floor. It's all flooding back. The betrayal. Watching my team die. Watching Roach die. Listening to Price's screams of warning. Seeing Emily becoming unhinged. It's all coming back.
I lean against the counter and dry heave for a moment, desperately trying to control myself. Oh god…Oh god…
Knives glint in the hands of enemies. Hyena-like laughs bounce off the walls. Bombs explode. Mirrors crack and shatter. Picture frames clatter to the floor. Blood stains freshly cleaned carpet. Tears burn at my cheeks. Nothing's real.
Choking is all I can seem to manage for a moment.
I've completely lost my grip on reality.
Nothing's real.
That god-awful laugh.
The knives.
The sick grins.
The mirrors.
Oh god…
I heave again, blinded by salty tears. I feel deaf from misery and hate.
The revolver pointing straight at him.
That moment where I just couldn't move.
Gadget's hands yanking on my vest.
Her screams of agony as she tried to yank Roach out of the fire faster.
No arms of comfort reach for me. No gentle hands come to help. I look up and she's just standing there, staring at me. I reach for her, still heaving and crying and loosing grip on everything.
Oh god…
She turns away…
This can't be real…
(Ghost Regains Consciousness)
I sit up with a start, grasping at my own throat as if trying to get rid of a strangling arm. An unintelligible groan escapes my lips as I come back to reality, followed by a sigh of relief when I realize it was just a dream…mostly. I look to Gadget. Now she's resting peacefully, then she was trying her hardest to hold both of us together. Maybe in the dream she'd turned and run.
But I knew the truth.
I pant and rub my temples, heart thumping away in my chest, trying to erase the feelings welled up inside from the dream. It had been so real. It all happened again, right before my eyes. My stomach threatens to heave again, but with no food in it all I do is gag.
Once the nauseousness passes I manage to get my bearings. The curtain is still in place and no light shines from beneath it, so I assume it's either nighttime or the others are sleeping. Gadget groans in her sleep and balls the sheets in her hands. Tears stream out of the corners of her eyes. "Shhh…" I hush her, placing a hand on her fist. "You're okay…We're safe…" Her features are contorted with agony as the tears fall faster. I look around for a heart rate monitor, but when I don't spot one I stagger out of the chair and over to the curtains. I tear them open and call, "Something's wrong!"
The door smashes open and Sveta enters quickly, shoves me to the side, and goes to Gadget. I begin to follow only to have the curtains pulled shut a mere inch in front of my nose. Grumbling in annoyance, I turn to face the now awoken men. "What is going on?" Nikolai yawns, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his knuckles.
Price sits up and swings his legs over the edge of his cot. "Is she okay?"
"I…I don't know. I couldn't tell." I swallow, trying not to look at the mirror across the room. I hadn't realized that my mask was gone until this moment. "She was…uh…"
The Russian laughs, "No need to worry about Gadget. She is a strong one."
Price pats the chair adjacent to his cot. "C'mon, sit down."
"But…" I hestitate, glancing over my shoulder warily at the blue piece of fabric that obstructed my view, wanting to just turn around and whip it open. I couldn't just leave Gadget to suffer. Especially not when she had stayed next to me even though I was barely stable enough to stand and she was bleeding all over herself. She was right there, next to me.
And now I was gonna let a crappy piece of décor keep me away from her.
"Sveta can take care of her."
Although Nikolai's reassurances do little to calm my nerves I plop down in the chair and sigh, rubbing my temples. "It never ends this; bloody garbage." A firm hand rests on my shoulder and I look up to see Price smiling sadly. "I suppose there's some sort of bright side to all of this you plan on opening my eyes to…"
He chuckles, shaking his head, "No, not at all." I raise my eyebrow in request for elaboration. "Merely agreeing with you… It never ends."
I nod, thoughtfully, trying to think of the bright side or if there even is one in this fine little mess we'd made for ourselves. Two countries want our heads on a stake with our eyes gouged out of their sockets, oh and by the way they're the two most powerful countries on the face of the planet, and they just so happen to be launching into a full scale war, that was started by some psychotic extremist and could very soon consume the world. I sigh, trying to grasp what good could come from all of that. Sure, we're alive, but with a man hunt going on and thousands of men thirsty for our blood it doesn't seem like much a blessing to me.
My thoughts are interrupted whenever a much shaken Sveta shoves the curtains open and rushes back through the still open doorway. I lift my head, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gadget to make sure she's all right, but instead I can only see a small lump in the blankets. Yip-ee.
There is a loud scream from the front of the house and Nikolai jumps to his feet and sprints out the door. Price follows him without hesitation.
Of course, I can't seem to stand up without practically falling over, so it takes me a good three minutes to get to my feet. "Bloody, no good, lying, son of a bildge rat's whor—"
The string of curses I was flinging at Shepherd's grave is broken.
My eyes catch the reflection on the mirror. My muscles freeze up. All I can do is stare at the face looking back at me. The same old face stared from the looking glass; blue eyes still cold and distant, though the hair was slightly shaggier it is the same old shade of blond, the same old scar is still haunting my gaze and driving me mad just from the sight of it, and the same old Simon Riley is still waiting around for a chance to mingle in the world. I swallow, gazing at the 'improvements' that had been added on since my last 'adventure'. A burn, just below my left cheekbone, is the most likely to remain for a lengthy amount of time. The usual pattern of scratches and bruises dot my forehead and jawbone; not to mention the laceration along my hairline from the second battle within the house.
Oh god… I almost forgot about the second battle…
Before I can rip my eyes away from the mirror, Sveta is shoving Price and Nikolai back through the door, yelling something along the lines of, 'Stray from this room again, under any circumstance, and that pole will be shoved so far up your – that even the full forces of America and mother Russia combined won't be able to tear it back out of your sorry -!'
She rants for a while on all the violent and torturous things she'll do to them if they ever leave the confines of our little room ever again. Price simply rolled his eyes and sat back down on his cot while Nikolai tried to apologize. "We did not realize we were not permitted out of our room—Wait…Ghost, my friend, are you feeling all right?"
The room had suddenly gotten smotheringly hot and I could feel beads of sweat popping up on my forehead. The reflection seemed to smile deviously at me, waving even though I didn't move my arms at all, and its eyes flash a precise shade of brown. I blink furiously but the image stays, "F-fine."
Sveta shoves Nikolai roughly and ignores his protest as she presses the back of her hand to my forehead. "Hmmm…you are awfully clammy. Perhaps you should lay down."
"No…I…I'm fine…" I mutter, not removing my eyes from the mirror. Sveta's reflection didn't join my own, even though she was in the right position to. I was all alone.
Sveta looks over her shoulder and looks at the mirror, a perplexed expression taking over her features. "Are you sure?"
"…Positive." I'm lying, but I don't care. The reflection laughs silently, waving again.
"Just for a moment, last thing I need is for any one of you to—"
"I SAID I'M BLOODY FINE!" I roar, ripping my eyes away from the mirror and glaring down at the small blonde woman. Her eyes widen and she backs away. My glare doesn't waver until a very angry Nikolai steps between us.
"Are you so stupid that you do not even realize that this woman has saved your life?" He demands, his rough accent becoming even more obvious with thick anger. "We are lucky she did not leave us out to die. You do not even realize that she saved us. We should all be dead! She is risking everything…for a bunch of strangers," He looks back at her and his eyes soften, "And…also an old friend who made a horrible mistake."
I glance at the mirror again, hoping that the reflection will be gone. It's not. I swallow back the need to vomit and look away quickly. "M-maybe I should lay down…the stress is getting to me…" I nod, reassuring myself. "That's what it is…the stress."
END TRANSMISSION.
Soo…uh…did I do something to make you people mad? I must've ruined something so completely that you all hate me now, because among the 200 people who read the previous chapter only one reviewed. Oh-kayyyy…
But you know what? Thank you very much to Jacob0392 and VerityA for getting my rear in gear with their messages/review. I appreciate it :)
Also, thanks to ecto1b for continuing The Ghost that Haunted Me. It's hardcore awesomeness that you all should be reading!
And, as always, reviews would be adored. With such a lack of reviews instead of working on this chapter or planning those soon to come, I; Finished Assassin's Creed, played Nazi Zombies like 40 times, filled a whole notebook with half finished songs, went to the movies several times with he-who-must-not-be-named (not Voldemort), and slacked off in school. To save me from ignoring this story once again, be a dear and hit the review button.
Thanks as always =]
Lava and Rockets,
Gadget.
