- IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO REALIZE THERE ARE FORMATTING ERRORS IN MY STORY. -
I can't believe I have been posting this thing for months and never realized copy-and-paste doesn't get *everything*
I was scrolling through and realized there are major breaks in formatting all throughout this whole thing.
It seems confusing where perspectives/scenes begin and end due to formats not copying over correctly.
I think I'll have it fixed in the next few days. Sorry for the inconvenience!
You looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring your handiwork.
You wore a nice, casual outfit that you hadn't had the chance to pull out of your closet for almost a year now. It was an outfit that you loved to wear on days out before joining Task Force 141, where "days out" were hardly a thing anymore.
You turned, looking at yourself from every angle. Not to toot your own horn, but you knew these clothes looked great on you. It was an outfit made up of casual wear that somehow helped you look sexy. Tight jeans accentuated the curves of your lower half, with a somewhat-revealing tank top and a cutoff leather jacket to go with it. You barely got to express your femininity anymore, and you were excited to have the chance again.
You made faces at yourself, admiring your makeup and tossing your hair around this way and that. You were beginning to feel excited now, confidence seeping into you, certain that this was going to be a great night. The excitability you felt had momentarily pushed all of your worries aside. You had your head in the clouds.
Hell, if you really did have a great time out tonight, it would be worth getting in trouble for. What the hell would Simon do anyway?
Spank me?
You laughed at yourself in the mirror, looking into the pupils of your eyes and feeling yet another confidence boost at the sight of your own beautiful, cheerful smile. You felt warm and giddy, like nothing could stop you from enjoying your night out.
You grabbed your bag and got ready to leave. The cold door knob twisted beneath your palm, a cold reminder that things could turn awry at any moment now. You peeked out into the orange glow of the streetlights that surrounded the encampment, eyes searching about for traces of someone that might catch you. With your dorm facing multiple others before you, you needed to get out of there fast.
You peeked your head out the door, checking around the various lights and shadows. You cursed at yourself for a moment, feeling anger at the fact that you felt the need to be secretive at all.
I should be able to go have fun on the weekend if I want to.
And with that thought you confidently stepped out the door, pushing those worries and fears deep down within yourself, feeling entitled to a night of fun after all that you'd suffered while working for Task Force 141.
Your heart pounded as you approached the bar scene. You pulled your phone from your pocket, the confidence you'd felt before wavering a bit. You were reminded of your days as a teenager, crawling out of your bedroom window into the darkness to be picked up by some guy 5 years older than you to go smoke pot and drink alcohol. Back in those days you would spend every waking second diligently checking your phone over and over, waiting for a text to come in from your parents: Where the fuck are you?
You let out yet another frustrated puff into the chilly night air as you reminded yourself that you were an adult fully capable of taking care of yourself. You work hard, you do what you're told, and you're a valuable asset to the team. These men can trust you with explosives and assault rifles but they don't want you going to a bar with a friend on Friday? Piss off.
Groups of people loitered about at the front of the bar. You decided to call Drake instead of sending him a text. You began searching for the unsaved number that had texted you a few hours before when you heard his voice call out to you from nearby.
Your head popped up, searching the light crowd for the Sargeant before you finally spotted him, looking at you with a gleaming bright smile. He sauntered up to you and you smiled back.
"Wow, Y/N. You look great."
You grinned again, fighting back a blush. "Thanks. You look… Normal."
He laughed, glancing downward at his regular clothes. They were nice, not too flashy. You appreciated that both of you had silently agreed on casual wear for the night.
"Let's go on in, get some drinks. Music hasn't started yet." You were surprised when he crooked his arm out to you, inviting you to take it.
You took his arm in your hand lightly, your fingers brushing against his toned biceps. You resisted the urge to squeeze them. It had been a long time since you'd had the chance to do that.
He led you into the bar which was a dimly lit room teeming with people. Some here were already plastered drunk, stumbling around and slurring overly loud remarks at each other. You warned yourself not to go that far tonight.
Both of you approached the bar where there was barely any space to order, crowded by people awaiting their drinks. There was a small opening between two groups of people and Drake stepped aside, motioning for you to take that spot. You stepped forward, taking your place along the bar as you waited to order.
You forgot how chaotic bar scenes could be. The last time you were at a place like this, it was with the entire unit of 141 and it was nowhere near this crowded, the patrons having been mostly old, rich gentlemen that chatted quietly at their tables. This was a different type of scene with a younger, more rambunctious crowd.
You lurched to the side momentarily when a girl standing to your side lost her balance, stumbling into you. You prepared to respond with annoyance when she quickly flipped her blonde hair around to look at you, and yelled out a very inebriated but obviously genuine apology. She turned back to her boyfriend and continued chatting, still wobbling back and forth as if hanging onto the rim of the bar table wasn't enough to keep her stood up straight.
Finally, a thin man with a long, scraggly beard approached you with his eyebrows raised. He didn't say hello or anything, so you assumed he was asking for your drink of choice.
"May I have a Blue Moon and a shot of Patron? No salt. And whatever my friend wants." You turned to look back at Drake and nearly jumped when you saw a man's arm extended next to you, masculine hand resting on the bar. You followed the arm up to see Drake's face not too far from yours, looking at the bartender.
"I'll also have a shot of Patron, but I'd like a Budweiser on draft instead of Blue Moon," he said loudly.
You began to feel a bit warm inside as you realized the reason he was partially leaning over you with his hand rested on the table. The girl from before kept lurching to the side and bumping into him. He was keeping you from getting jostled again.
The bartender quickly returned with two shots and two beers. You picked up yours and moved to the side a bit to give Drake room to grab his. When you both turned away from the bar you found yourself looking up at him through your lashes. "Thanks."
He gave you another one of those sexy winks. "No problem."
You both made your way to a small, round table near the edge of the room. You were happy to see that he seemed to prefer the edge as well.
You took your seat next to him, facing the stage that took up almost half of the room. "You wouldn't believe how many times people have spilled beer on me when I'm sitting in the middle," you commented, adjusting yourself in the seat and then taking a sip of your beverage.
"Same here," he responded, also taking a quick sip of his. "Also been decked in the face a couple of times by accident. Drunk bastards don't know how to aim for shit."
Your mouth fell slightly open in surprise. "Ooooh. Never had that happen to me, thankfully." You paused for a moment before remembering something interesting that did happen to you once. "When I was a teenager I went to a concert with some friends. One second I was standing there in the crowd listening to the music, and the next I was laying on the ground and couldn't see a thing. Turns out a guy was crowd surfing and fell right on top of me. His hair was all in my face, it was gross."
His eyebrows raised. "Wow. Surprised he didn't crush you."
"Nah, he was really skinny. Two people next to us grabbed him by his arms and yanked him up off me. I was still lying there confused. Then they pulled me up too, before I even realized what happened. It was a weird feeling, I was just laying there and all of the sudden I was back up on my feet again."
"I love the camaraderie at shows. It seems like out in the world everyone hates each other. But you get a crowd of people together listening to music and suddenly everyone's a team. It's great."
You smiled, fully understanding what he was saying. You felt the same way. "I swear."
"Now, take a crowd of people to Disney on Ice and you've got a different story altogether." He grinned. "People wielding children like firearms."
You laughed out loud, imagining it. "Oh my gosh, that is so true! I used to go to Disney on Ice when I was a kid. My parents always left in a foul mood."
He nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "I remember those days. I wonder if they still do that anymore."
You shrugged. "I dunno." You looked at the stage to see the band setting up. You had no idea who they were, and wondered if they were popular at all with the locals.
You were still looking at the stage when Drake nudged you. You looked at him and saw he had his shot glass in his hand. He held it towards you. "Cheers to camaraderie."
"Camaraderie," you responded, picking up your shot glass and clinking it against his.
You both threw the shots back. You grimaced as it traveled down your throat, burning slightly. You quickly grabbed the lime off the glass and bit into it, sucking out the juice and enjoying the relief it gave you from the bitter mouthful of tequila.
You glanced over to Drake to see his response. He was gazing at you as you devoured the lime.
He raised an eyebrow when he saw you looking. "Experienced, eh?"
You scoffed, still grimacing from the shot. "Do you see this face?"
"Yeah, I do," he laughed.
You chuckled as well. "You should know as well as anyone that you don't join the military without knowing how to take a shot."
He flashed another gorgeous smile. "True." Then he picked up his phone and checked the time. You caught a glimpse and saw that it was about 8:30. "Band should start playing soon."
A thought dawned on you. "Hey, didn't you say you had some friends coming too?"
He looked over at you, pausing for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Uh, they ended up canceling on me at the last moment. Just you and me, I guess."
"Oh, alright." He seemed a little odd with his response. Did he ever have any other friends coming in the first place?
You heard the sound of a microphone hooking into an audio system and looked up at the stage once again. All four members had finally come on board, holding their instruments and looking out into the crowd. Looked like they were just getting ready to start.
"Let's see how good they are," Drake turned to you before returning his eyes to the stage.
Based on their looks, you weren't expecting very much. They looked quite unsophisticated and partially nervous to be on stage. You wondered if it was their first time playing.
And as it turned out, you were right. The band was inexperienced with stage equipment, their instruments at times horribly out of tune, the drummer partially offbeat, and the singer stumbling over his words as if he were drunk himself. About a minute into the song you were biting back a smile and glanced over at Drake to see his reaction. He was giving you the same look, biting his lower lip with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you nearly started laughing out loud.
You raised up your hand and motioned your finger for him to "come here". You leaned forward and he leaned towards you. You cupped your left hand around his ear, bringing your lips close and speaking quietly to him.
"These guys suck."
He chuckled. When you leaned away, he gave you the same finger-motion you'd given him a second ago. You leaned towards him.
You kept your face straight when you saw him reach around behind you, draping his arm around the back of your seat as he leaned in. Then his other hand reached forward, gently brushing your hair behind your ear. He cupped his hand just as you did. Then you felt his breath waft lightly across your skin. Goosebumps prickled euphorically across your neck.
"I'm just enjoying spending time with you."
Soap breathed a heavy sigh, laid in bed with his hands clasped behind his head. He stared idly at the ceiling, thoughts churning within his mind.
He knew something was bothering Simon. Deeply. He hated to see the man he considered as his best friend so distraught. It had carried on for so long now, and only gotten worse since the arrival of the new recruit.
He knew it had something to do with Y/N. His thoughts meandered about, unwilling to let go of the idea that there was something going on between them. It frustrated him to think that Simon refused to tell him the truth. He knew the Lieutenant wasn't the 'emotional' type, and hell, neither was he. But he didn't care. Something was bothering him enough that it had become obvious. The man needed to come out with it.
Soap lay there still, wrestling with his thoughts that drifted to Y/N. Such a kind, lovable, genuine girl. He'd begun to suspect that she had feelings for the Lieutenant as soon as he'd gotten to know her well enough. When they first met, Soap had developed a mild crush on her. She was pretty cute, after all. But as they spent more time together they found themselves settling comfortably within the bounds of a nurturing friendship. His feelings had faded as he came to realize that she simply didn't see him that way, and he was okay with that. A few months later he felt like he knew her better. He knew the types of responses she'd have to things, what types of jokes she thought were funny, and had even learned some of her more niche interests she didn't typically talk about. He never thought he would find that kind of a friendship with someone of the opposite sex, but here they were.
And so, Soap eventually found himself noticing that her attention seemed a bit more focused on the Lieutenant any time the man came around. Saw from the corner of his eyes once or twice that she'd straighten her clothes or fix her hair when she heard Ghost's heavy footsteps coming their way. The fact that any time he mentioned anything to do with Simon, it seemed to catch her attention. Those seemingly innocent, slightly prying questions she'd asked about L.T. every now and then - Have you ever seen him get really upset? He looks like he snores, does he snore? Do you know what he does in his free time?
Then, there was the way she looked at him. Subtle, difficult to notice, but definitely there. It was a look he'd never seen her give anyone else.
Yeah. Deep down, he knew.
Maybe if I just sit her down and talk to her, she'll tell me.
He laid there, considering the idea. Working through the words he'd use, exactly what he'd say to get her to come clean. He would be gentle at first, reassure her that she could really trust him with her feelings. He knew she thought of him as a loudmouth, but when it came to things like this he had nothing but respect for his two friends and their privacy. Never wanted to cause any issues or drama - he only wanted to be there for both of them, and possibly be a mediator for the tension that seemed to be rising.
And so, he sucked in a deep breath before swinging his legs over the side of his bed, standing up straight and heading for the door. It was time to figure this out.
Right now.
He grabbed the handle of the door and stepped outside into the chilly night air. He shivered a bit before zipping up his jacket and making his way down the lonely, dark sidewalk on his way to Y/N's dorm. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time - 11:25. He felt confident that she would still be awake. There were times over the weekend that he'd wake up in the morning to messages or videos she had sent him as early as 2 A.M.
She's definitely awake.
He sauntered up to her door, standing in front of it for a moment to gather his thoughts. What he would say, how he would say it, and explain how much he felt like he needed to know what was going on between the two, for the sake of his own sanity.
He sucked in one last breath and raised his fist to knock quietly at the door.
He waited for a moment, hearing nothing stir. He saw through the small window that no lights were on, but that wasn't unusual for her at night time.
A few moments passed, and nothing. He knocked once again.
He sat there still, casually throwing glances over his shoulder to see if anyone else was out and about tonight. Then he turned towards the door once again, and knocked even louder.
"Y/N! It's Soap. Let me in for a minute."
A few more moments passed by…
Nothing.
A ball formed in his gut.
She's not here.
Realization began to settle in, his mind quickly putting the pieces together. He wasn't completely sure, but he felt like he knew where she was at.
Who she was with.
Ghost's masked face flashed across his mind. That subtle look in his eyes that had said to him, Help me keep an eye on this girl.
Soap groaned, trying to keep himself from landing a frustrated kick at the bottom of her door. "Damn it!" He said exasperatedly into the night. He looked up at the sky, realizing he was officially caught between the loyalty of his two friends. "Damn."
He shook his head, turning away from the door and pulling out his phone once again.
He quickly went to Y/N's contact and dialed her number. He put the phone up to his ear.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring… click.
She denied him.
"Bitch," he muttered to his phone, immediately dialing her again.
Ring, ring, ring… click.
He pursed his lips. Glared down into his phone screen. "One more, Y/N. This is your last chance."
One single ring. Then a click.
He clicked his tongue. Rolled his neck from left to right. Tapped the message icon on his phone and began angrily typing to Y/N.
Where are you?
He turned and headed back to his room, staring down at his phone the whole way.
Before he reached the door he sent another.
You need to answer me right now.
He quickly opened up the door and shut it behind him. He took a heavy seat down on the bed, leaned forward with his elbows rested on his knees. He knew she wouldn't budge unless he bothered her.
This isnt a personal issue.
You know your supposed to let someone know where your at.
He took in a frustrated breath before jamming in his final threat.
If you dont tell me im going to have to wake up Price
He wont be happy
He tossed his phone down on the bed and stared off into the corner of the room. When it buzzed he quickly snatched it back up again.
'I'm at the bar. Leave me alone please.'
Which bar?
'Does it matter?'
Who are you with?
'Someone from our unit. Buddy system in order! Is that good enough for you, mom?'
Soap heaved a deep, frustrated sigh, his eyes rolling all the way up to the ceiling. He could hear the attitude dripping from her voice through the messages. He leaned forward again, eyes on his phone.
He exited the messages and went to his contacts. Found L.T.. He stared down into the number for a few moments, finger hovering over the trigger. Considering what he should do.
…Should I just let her get away with it?
He sucked in air through his teeth, thinking hard. He had no doubt in his mind that she would return home in one piece. Even if she went out and got plastered, he knew that she'd be able to make it home. Hell, she'd been the reason for him making it home on a few occasions.
He felt like he could trust her. He wasn't entirely sure about Drake, but he knew that Y/N was smart enough to take care of herself.
Ghost's face washed up in his mind once again. The seriousness of his tone when he'd told Soap to let him know if he saw Drake getting too close. Soap didn't see him as a bad guy, but…
He cared more about being there for Simon.
He clicked his tongue again, shaking his head. "L.T.'s not gonna like this…"
His finger mashed down on the call button.
It rang five or six times before the Lieutenant gruffly answered the phone.
"What the hell are you calling me at midnight for?"
Soap froze at the irritation in Ghost's voice. Once again felt like he should let Y/N have the night to herself.
"Uhhh, well…" Soap sputtered, slightly nervous.
"Spit it out arsehole, you woke me up."
"Y/N's gone off somewhere." He pursed his lips, waiting for the storm.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Pardon."
"Y/N's gone off - "
"Where the bloody fuck is she at?"
"I don't fookin' know!" Soap's shoulders shrugged, eyes widening as he stared exasperatedly into the wall.
There was another pause. He heard the sound of fabrics moving.
"What'd I fuckin' tell ya, Soap."
The call dropped.