My tired eyes trailed sluggishly over my pale skin before they focused on my face. The smudged dark eyeshadow around my eyes now partly covered the ever-growing dark circles under my lower lash line and stretched far enough to stop just shy of my eyebrows. While I had plans to go without it for the evening, I ultimately decided against it in a moment of reluctance. Next time, I kept telling myself, as if next time I would magically change my mind.
Shaking my head in frustration at my own wavering confidence and poor expression of self-love, I slid my fingers through my silky-smooth hair, twisting and gliding through the golden strands.
Despite all the flaws I could spot in front of me, I felt, strangely enough, beautiful. It was a shame, I did not have the courage to face the people I have gotten closer to, without covering half of my features. Perhaps, in the near future, I will be able to convince myself otherwise.
With that I began to wonder, what their reactions would be at seeing me without the mask I had been hiding behind most of my military career. A mask I had grown accustomed to.
I vividly remember the way Sarah, Kate's wife, looked at me the first time I had removed my disguise. Her eyes expressed gentleness; a kind of fondness I envisioned a parent would have for its child. A spark of excitement, a hint of unconditional love. On the other hand, John's gaze had been the complete opposite; a stern look that transformed into a thorough examination from the tips of my dishevelled hair sticking into the air, to the bottoms that were the soles under my feet. After all, his only goal was to identify the person Kate had slipped through his fingers; put a face to a name.
But perhaps, if the Captain would see a glimpse of me today, he would express his emotions differently. Would he grace me with his sweet smile? A grin I could not get enough of, leading me to immortalize it as a messy sketch in my cherished journal…
Sliding my hands over the smooth countertop, I slipped my fingers over the edge and grabbed the wooden panel with such force, it turned my knuckles white.
What an odd topic to mull over at a time like this, even so I couldn't stop myself from thinking further. After all, I had not even considered the other members of the task force yet.
The charming British Sergeant, for instance, with whom I share not only jokes but also deep, meaningful conversations. The handsome Scotsman with his kind eyes and forthcoming personality and the mysterious Lieutenant whose façade crumbled slightly last night, allowing me to see the person that hid behind the mask instead of the persona he put up with.
What would their reactions be?
I ripped my hands from the sickening grasp I had on the tabletop and slammed my fist down on it instead. With a hiss, I pulled back and held it firmly against my chest, caressing it.
This was all nonsense, wasn't it? Thinking about this, fantasising about this rubbish.
What's wrong with me?
I was unable to express it in words; my unwillingness to accept the sensations said men brought forth the more time I spend with them. While my mind already barely managed to rationalize the affection I clearly felt for the older Captain and British Sergeant, it refused to do the same for the Lieutenant and his partner in crime. Its reasons were that I did not know the latter long enough to determine what exactly I was actually feeling. Although I had heard stories of them, read files over files surrounding their work, it was not the same as being a part of their team. Being their partner.
But what if it was the chase that made my heart race, and not the final destination?
I laughed bitterly.
What if, all this, was only an obsessive episode of mine? The life of a soldier was lonely, and loneliness can yield the worst in people. Perhaps it was another hyper fixation. God knows it would not be the last nor the first one I have ever had. What if I am not interested in them at all, but rather I enjoy the attention I am given and crave more? What if… I am a-
"Fraud." I whispered.
I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes in frustration and sighed.
Captain Price, John, was only looking out for me because I was a part of his team. He always looks out for the people he surrounds himself with. Sergeant Garrick, Kyle, was a good friend. A friend who shared his experience with me, after I had asked and offered him a sympathetic ear. Sergeant MacTavish, Johnny, was only being himself; kind, and respectful. Lieutenant Riley, Simon, was always professional, in every setting, no exceptions.
Without further notice, the desire to get into a serious accident crashed into me. People would call me brave for surviving an unexpected, undesirable event. I would get words of encouragement, unrelenting support, and comfort; a sliver of it, I had come to witness the past couple of days.
Because as long as a casualty is visible, it will be favoured before a calamity that is only happening in someone's mind.
Then again, the struggles I fight with, are exclusively in my head. And while people had said to me, that depression is only a construct for people to have a groundless reason to be miserable, I remember laying in the wrecks of the chopper, wishing I was dead.
Tell me, would anyone care if I were to die?
I sucked in a shocked breath. I had not thought that grimly in years. Scaring myself with my own question, my chest tightened at the thoughts that followed after.
Kate would shed tears, wouldn't she?
She'd plant my favourite flowers in her garden, and over time, with each tear shed, they'd grow, flourish and soon enough she'd have a part of me, just outside her kitchen window.
John would blame himself, for not noticing the signs sooner.
He'd make sure to look out for any indications moving on. The smallest suspicion and he would move heaven and earth to keep the person safe. To talk it out, offer a warm embrace to hopefully mend the broken pieces, at least for a little bit.
Kyle would wonder if he could have talked me out of it.
He would continue telling stories in my memory, often including memories that mayhap only contain me, rather than his own adventures. This way, I could live endlessly through the minds of others.
Johnny wouldn't smile as much anymore.
Yet he'd make sure everyone else would smile all the more. A joke here, some teasing there. He would hold the spirits high in his rough yet gentle hands.
Would Simon care?
.
.
.
He would. Of course he would.
Deep down, I knew for certain. As much as he tries to act uninterested, irritated and closed off, behind his carefully laid out personality called Ghost, he was a man capable of emotions and feelings like everyone else. Perhaps he would not mourn me in a traditional sense, but deep down, I was certain he'd at least occasionally think about the ally that wasn't a part of his team anymore. Because, in spite of any indications or expectations anyone has of him, and beside the image he upholds, his eyes had already betrayed him several times.
Poets don't describe the eyes to be the windows to one's soul just for the extravagant way of describing things. Behind those elegant and lavish words, there laid the bare truth.
Which concludes, everyone would care, wouldn't they?
Wouldn't… they?
I slid down the wall and buried my head in my hands.
Why couldn't I just be normal?
Tonight was supposed to be a lovely evening spent between friends and comrades. A way for the restless souls to leisurely simmer down from the frenzied days prior.
I pulled my hands away from my face and stared at my bruised fingers. Pathetic. What would the others think of me? What will I think of me, when the night is over and I will still be sitting on the bathroom floor, feeling sorry for myself. Pitiful.
In the spur of the moment, I plucked myself off the floor and cleaned off the dust and grime that clung to my backside. Taking a closer look in the tall mirror to the side, I twisted and turned my body, taking in as many perspectives as I could. I refused to wallow in self-pity, instead I opted to boost my confidence and eliminate my deteriorating mood as best as I could.
The simple jeans I hadn't worn in too long, clung snuggly to my thighs and muscled hips. It made me feel slightly self-conscious, not seeing my body being draped in the usual gear, yet simultaneously, I felt oddly bold. To top it off, I put on a simple black shirt that left my arms exposed. Another unusual piece of garment.
I did another exaggerated spin and stumbled over my own two feet, causing me to clutch the cabinet and stare at my reflection with wide open eyes. A second later, I burst out laughing at my own clumsiness I seem to only have when I'm having a moment.
I took one last look, made some silly expressions to ease the tension, grabbed my hood from the countertop -just in case- and walked out of the bathroom with newfound courage.
Courage that wavered with every turn I made and every step I took.
The faint music I heard, gradually became louder and soon I was standing in front of the two closed doors behind which the party had just begun. I felt my throat tighten, my heart picking up on speed, as I stood still, rooted to the ground, fingers grazing the soft material of my hood, that I had pinned to my belt instead of wrapping it around my head.
Just in case.
Just in case.
Just in case.
The three words echoed through my skull.
I need that hood. Now!
My mind shrieked and I instinctively yanked the piece of garment off my belt. Clasping it on either side of my shoulders, I pulled it over my head and pushed it into place. Quickly taking out my phone, I peeked at the reflection and tucked any stray hair behind my ears. It wasn't perfect, without the partial balaclava I usually wore underneath, my hair was still visible from specific angles, but it was still better than being completely naked.
Finally pushing the doors open, I took a hesitant step inside. I was met with a strong fragrance that momentarily overwhelmed my senses. Crinkling my nose, I took a long and hard look around. Men and occasionally women, sat in small groups around a number of tables, the laughter and chatter I had previously heard, was at its peak now, and I noticed a few heads turn my way. Flexing my jaw under my mask, I ignored all the eyes that were on me and searched for my friends.
"Ascii! Over here!" I heard a familiar voice call out to me. Turning my head to said voice, I spotted Soap sitting at a small table, his hand up in the air, beckoning for me to join him. The smile that bloomed on my face, would have put anyone else to shame. Heart beating loudly in my ears, I walked a tad bit faster towards him.
Coming closer, I spotted Ghost sitting in the corner. Nodding his way, I sat down beside Soap.
"Thought ye got lost!" Soap exclaimed.
"Sorry love, just because you can't find your way to the loo in the dead of the night, doesn't mean I can't find my way around the base." I answered with a smug expression.
"Oi! Keep it quiet, will ya!" He protested.
"She got you there, mate." Ghost commented.
"Shut up Lt.!"
I laughed.
Of course, I may have failed to mention the loud music that made it impossible for me to miss the bar, or anyone else, for that matter. But he didn't need to know that.
Promptly I was whisked into the conversation that transpired mainly between Soap and Ghost. I didn't mind that though as I listened with feverish curiosity.
It wasn't long until Alejandro and Rudy joined us, causing my attention to slowly shift. While I sluggishly leaned back against my chair, I felt more and more as if someone was observing me. Uneasiness settled into my bones, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Realizing, I would not be able to stealthily analyse my surroundings due to my hood obscuring most of my peripheral vision, I opted to concentrate on the people closest to me. Maybe one of them will see, what I cannot.
The Sergeant was the first one on my small list of people I had a look at. He sat closest to me, leaning eagerly over the table, with a drink in his hands, listening intently in on the conversation transpiring between Alejandro and Rudy. It did not seem as if Soap had noticed anything, he was too engrossed in the discussion. Moving on to the Colonel and Sergeant Major, both were deeply engrossed in their own storytelling. I didn't linger for too long on them. Up until my eyes laid upon Ghost. He was staring past my head, looking at something or someone behind me, yet his eyes didn't betray any kind of thought that may have been swirling though that thick skull of his.
Sighing, I gave up. Mayhap, it was all in my head and there was no one who had me in his sights…
Without warning, a pair of heavy boots stopped just behind me, and a rough, booming voice found its way to my ears. "Found you at last- I hope for you, that you have managed to come up with a suitable solution for the money you still owe me." The persons voice rang over the loud music, causing the table to suddenly fall silent.
I shrunk into my chair out of sheer embarrassment and awkwardness. I imagined this evening transpiring in a number of different ways, yet this one situation never crossed my mind.
While I was occupied with my own thoughts, the Sergeant had turned his upper body towards the man that was still looming over my hunched body. He held his position, with a deadly grip on the scratched and used table. Ghost had also surreptitiously changed his stance. Yet the previous calmness persevered, coating him in a threatening aura.
"Girl-" the man behind me began to speak again. I grabbed my hood and pulled it lower over my face while I sunk further down the chair. My body language and over all reaction, caused Alejandro to take the initiative. As he stood up, he pushed the chair back with such force, the piece of furniture toppled over and crashed to the ground with a loud rattling noise, causing me to visibly recoil. "-I am talking to you." The man hissed, unimpressed by Alejandro's display.
"Watch your tongue, cabron." Alejandro spit out.
Swiftly getting off my own chair, before the situation escalated any further, I held a hand up into the air, causing Alejandro to stop in his tracks. While I admired his willingness to step in, it was not needed. At least not for this particular individual.
"Cariño are you sure you don't want me to-"
"Thank you, for stepping in, but there is no need for that. At least not this time." I assured him, with a glance over my shoulder.
At last, I was finally able to look at the person that decided to make a scene in the middle of the crowded bar.
I was met with a man taller than the majority of people that were present. Inwardly comparing him to the Lieutenant, who was still sitting just a couple of small steps behind me, I quickly guessed that both men were similar in height, but vastly different in body. While both were muscular, Ghost was more on the lean side of the spectre, I'd assume, contrary to the man before me, who was truly built like a bear. Muscles rippled under his tight fitted military shirt, that seemed way too small for his bulky built.
Focusing on the details, rather than the picture as a whole, I spotted glimpses of a tattoo peek from underneath his sleeve. It decorated the exposed skin on his right hand. Expecting to see the same ink on his other arm, I was inwardly disappointed when I didn't catch any glimpses of a tattoo. From there, my eyes slid down, and I noted the dark, nearly black coloured pants that were typical for the uniform issued by the shadow company. Yet the information itself was nothing I didn't already know.
"Cat got your tongue?" The man asked provocatively.
Sighing in frustration, I had already prepared a witty comeback, when I caught sight of our immediate surroundings. Startled by the number of eyes on us I was stunned into continuous silence. The train of mortifying emotions did not hold back when they crashed into me. Despite the loud music blasting through the speakers, people took note of the commotion. Putting a hand on my hip and pressing my lips into a thin line, I closed my eyes for a brief moment.
Vexed at this whole situation, I opened them again and gazed back up at the man.
Catching sight of more tattoos littering his neck, my eyes took in the last bit of his appearance. His brown hair was kept short, sporting a typical, neat military hairstyle, while the slight stubble that covered his jaw and chin, seemed out of place, as if unfit for his face. Focusing on the last unknown yet known bit, I was met with a pair of hazel eyes, that stared at me with a familiar fondness.
"First of all-" I began speaking, "you have to stop doing this-" I gestured between us, "anytime we meet, and second of all, you owe me money, not the other way around!" I called out, wiggling a finger at his now beaming face.
"Can't stop, won't stop-" He shrugged casually, "and I suppose the who owes who got lost in translation." He chuckled.
"This is embarrassing." I mumbled as I pressed a finger into his ribs, although he tried his best to evade it. "One day, it will backfire, and someone will punch you, you old geezer." I berated him but ultimately knew that he'd continue doing it regardless of what I would say to him.
"I'll survive." Was his cheeky remark while he crossed his arms over his chest to empathize his tall stature and bulking muscles.
"Menace."I cussed under my breath. I disliked when he did his stunts, and even though this time wasn't any different, the emotions were gradually being replaced by delightfulness and joy. After all, I had not heard from him in too long…
With a small smile gracing my lips, I turned on my heels and cleared my throat, nestling back into my professionalism. "I'd like to introduce to you a good friend of mine. I hope the display hasn't struck a bad nerve…" I confessed. "He likes to make an entrance." I added dryly and stared into the round.
Alejandro was the first to react. Regarding him a second longer, he nodded in acknowledgement and shook his hand. "An entrance that definitely was." He remarked with a smug smile and lifted brows.
"Colonel Morrison, Shadow Company." My friend announced. "Call sign, Treebs." He added.
"Morrison?" Soap and Rudy repeated simultaneously with surprise colouring their voices. I watched obliviously as Soaps eyes trailed over my friend, yet as they ultimately fell to the ground, I zeroed in on him. His astonishment was briskly replaced by a look I had not seen on him yet. Bitterness? Disappointment? Hurt? For a split second, the corners of his mouth turned downwards. But as quick as the emotions flashed over his lovely face, the quicker they were gone, as if they were never there to begin with. Instead, his mouth turned into a smirk, his eyebrows wiggled suggestively, and he glanced between Toby and I several times, as if indicating something specific…
I had to admit, he was good. Really bloody good at chalking up his emotions, altering his expressions in a heartbeat.
I was lucky my eyes had just centred on him when I noticed his façade slip. It happened so quick, yet unbelievably slow at the same time. The decline in his expression, the slight lowering of his eyebrows simultaneously with the corners of his mouth tilting in the same direction. His state of mind being clearly displayed by the sensitive look in his glacial blue eyes.
It reminded me of a mask, slipping from its place, clattering on the ground, and revealing the unpolished, emotional depths bellow. And yet, although I saw his sentiments displayed on his features like a play being transmitted on a big screen, I could not fully comprehend what I saw.
Still assimilating what I had just seen, I involuntarily glanced at Ghost.
I could not really determine where he was looking at either, as the skulls empty eye sockets were casting harsh shadows over his already dark eyes. Thus, my eyes wandered from his, over his rigid body to his hand neatly clasped onto his drink. The threatening aura, that had previously enveloped him, was gone, replaced by aught. The only indication of him being still among the living, was the condensation I spotted around his fingers, that held the cold drink securely in his grasp.
Fleetingly, I wondered what said drink was.
I grimaced when Soaps elbow hit the side of my ribs, pulling me out of my observation. "Morrison, eh? Never told me yer married, lass!"
"Because we are not. He is not my husband." I answered leisurely and rubbed the sore spot, wincing under my breath while contemplating if I should pay him with the same roughness back.
"Ye ain't?" He asked me, stumped.
"No." I began disclosing. "And we are not siblings either. Simply two humans with the same surname." I said, inspecting the companion beside me. As if he could feel my eyes on him, he graced me with another smile and laid a hand gently on my head. I tensed under his fingers, expecting him to whirl my soft locks under the hood, yet he never did.
Instead, he patted me tenderly.
"Why don't you take it fully off? Your hair is already sticking halfway out…" Toby leaned forward and asked me in a low voice.
"Didn't feel like it." I mumbled back.
"Really? Or were you afraid you wouldn't live up to the standard you seem to compare yourself to?" He swiped my shoulder teasingly and continued just a bit louder. "I'm sure you would have men running after you. I already see one just beh-"
I grimaced, and in a moment of annoyance, panic, and shame bubbling feverishly over the edges of the already squealing kettle, punched him in the stomach. He doubled over with a small oof, and I stood mortified beside him.
"I'd ca' that sibling energy. What do ye think?" Soap pointed out while Alejando sported an impressed look.
"Undoubtedly." Rudy added with a solid nod.
"Seems the radio-silence made you overly confident." I expressed my displeasure. "I did warn you…"
"Yeah, and I deserve that-" He wheezed, clearly out of breath- if the indication of him still holding his own stomach wasn't a good enough hint that he was perhaps slightly in distress.
Fed up with the situation, I excused myself from the table, coming up with a witty alibi, allowing me to walk away swiftly.
Shame was fogging my frenzy mind as I strolled past tables that were overflowing with chatter and laughter. I was walking on autopilot with only one goal in mind.
The bar.
Stepping up to it, I checked the list of drinks that was displayed on a board on the back wall. Skimming thoroughly through it in hopes of finding a familiar drink, I was already preparing to ask the mixologist for a suggestion, when my eyes stumbled upon one of the only few drinks, I felt comfortable enough to consume in the presence of my superiors. Ordering it, I leaned awkwardly against the counter and waited with fidgety hands.
While I observed the lady absentmindedly prepare my drink, I began scolding myself.
Not only did I physically assault a good friend of mine, but I had also made a complete and utter fool of myself. I had lost my temper, a brisk disposition I worked hard over the years to master and keep at bay. It was of utmost importance, in my line of work, to mask as much of oneself as possible, thus hindering hostiles of uncovering weak spots. All this, I threw out of the window because of one unimportant, yet teasing, comment. A remark I was afraid someone would catch on and interpret as the truth.
In that moment, I realized my silly crushes, weren't only fixations. Their opinions mattered to me. Their opinions of me, mattered to me.
I ultimately, deep down, craved their approval.
Biting down on my tongue in frustration, I snapped back to the present, when I noticed the pretty bartender looking at me, her finger pointing at the drink that sat well-behaved between my hands. Thanking her stiffly and slightly flustered, I grabbed the straw it came with, and wiggled it through the opening in my mask. Taking a well needed sip, I nearly melted then and there from the flavourful explosion in my mouth.
Turning, I leaned with my lower back against the counter and sipped my cold drink, inwardly thanking the designer that put blood, sweat and tears into creating my mask. Through his input, I was able to manage a high level of concealment, I otherwise would have had trouble upholding. While it was slightly irritating when eating, as I had to lift my mask physically off my chin, to be able to ingest food, this was not needed when drinking through a straw. Simply explained, the part concealing my mouth, was detachable. If removed, the now semi-visible opening, would be hidden behind several layers of dark mesh. Pressing them to the side with a straw, allowed the person to consume drinks or anything that is liquid enough. Thus, keeping the owner concealed at all times, even when the user forgets to reattach the hard plastic cover.
Taking several more sips, I gathered all the courage I could muster, prepared my body and mind for a potential odd situation, and pushed myself off the counter with a strained huff. I did not come really far, when the tree of a man stopped before me and blocked the way I was about to walk.
"'M sorry. Can we talk?" He mumbled, slipping his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah." I sighed in defeat. "Sorry for the punch… Are you alright?"
He chuckled. "Yeah, nothing to worry about. You do pack a punch though; I wasn't expecting that. Not for long and I won't be able to call you lil' leaf anymore."
I hummed and nodded.
"What do you want to talk about?" I asked curiously.
"You." He simply answered.
"Me?" I mustered, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm curious. Mr. Suds and Casper the Ghost? They keepin' you busy?"
My mouth fell open for several obvious reasons. "Suds and- and Casper the Ghost?" I repeated several octaves too loudly. Closing my mouth shut in a matter of seconds, I straightened my back and slowly turned my head. Fearfully peeking at several tables, I counted a number of eyes on us, but what really made me tremble in my boots, were the eyes of the Lieutenant and Sergeant catching my own.
Feeling trouble brewing beneath the peaceful surface, I, to the best of my abilities, casually turned my back towards them, shielding my face. However, the damage was done with the warmth that tinted my cheeks and ears. I regrettably pulled my hood further down my face. If they haven't heard Toby call them Suds and Casper, they undoubtedly saw my reaction and would be able to draw their own conclusions.
Mr. Suds and Casper the Ghost. Suds and Casper.
The names were being replayed in my head like a broken record, and I couldn't help the cackling that escaped my tight-lipped mouth.
"What? The names fit very well in my opinion." I heard my friend clarify.
"They do! Suds and Casper the bloody Ghost. How on earth did you come up with that so quickly?" The chuckle turned into a full-blown giggle. Wiping the lonely tear at the corner of my eye, I continued. "Oh my god if I accidentally call them by it… I will wish the earth swallows me whole!" Another laugh slipped past my lips. "Imagine that! No, don't imagine,-" I waved with my hands in front of me. "-you'll be giggling like a schoolgirl for the next couple of hours at this point. Well, I definitely will." I exclaimed.
"I'm glad you are laughing again. You looked unhappy when I was making my way to you." Toby expressed, trying to catch my drifting eyes.
"I was just thinking about how I made a fool of myself by punching you." I confessed, followed by a long sigh.
He chuckled. "Wouldn't call that making a 'fool of yourself'. I did deserve it, the way I stepped out of line, was undeniably out of pocket, even for me."
"Fair enough." I mused, slightly abashed.
"You are apologized." He said after my sparse comment.
"Fine, you big softie. I accept your acceptance of my meagre apology."
He smiled.
"With that out of the way, how does it feel, to finally have met the rest of your team? Still as excited as you were at the beginning?" He questioned me after both of us had taken a sip from our drinks.
"Yeah, absolutely. They have definitely crushed my expectations." Sheepishly I tucked some stray hair behind my ear, that had slipped from its place while I was hunched forward from the laughter. "I don't even know where to start, there's just so mu-."
"People normally start at the beginning."
It took a second for the words to register in my head, but when they did, I stared at him, unamused. I had another sudden urge to punch him. "No shit, Sherlock. Maybe I'll start at the end, just to agitate you, how 'bout that?"
"Whatever helps you kick-off."
I decided to wordlessly stare at him.
"What's the ending you want to tell me about?"
I casually sipped my drink while maintaining eye contact, refusing to elaborate just yet.
"C'mon now, don't leave me hanging!" He urged me to speak my mind.
"How could I leave you hanging, you are clearly sitting." I pointed at his chair.
…
…
…
"That was a terrible pun."
"Nah, you loved it." I disclosed. "I saw the corners of your mouth twitch. They were dying to be pulled upwards."
"Tsk- if you say so." He shook his head.
I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
"Well now, shall thou grace me with thy story?" He requested in early modern English.
"I shall, yet only because it is thou." I responded, just as enthusiastically. "On a serious note, though, I struggle to find the right words to describe them. Both are vastly different from anyone else I have encountered, yet they fit in perfectly. They show qualities I have not been able to study before." I stared at the ceiling to help me concentrate. "I mean, there were others who definitely had it in them to become what those two are, but… Wow. You should have seen them in action! Silent, deadly, headstrong, calculated. It's like watching an artist perform its biggest masterpiece yet, absolutely magnificent. I'm not gonna lie though, or pretend, but I do feel out of place."
"Leaf…" He placed a hand on my knee and squeezed. "With all due respect, from what I have heard in my years of working under Graves, rumours, and your words now, I think you complement each other very well. You may not have the experience they have, but you sure as hell have the guts for it. Hell, joining under Captain Price's command, doesn't just happen out of the blue or because someone put a good word in for you."
His words went straight to my head, yet the deeply embedded belief that I was unsuitable, persisted.
He pulled back and looked to the side, thinking intensely. I could only fathom what he was pondering about. "Do you remember the first time you called me after you enrolled?"
If I could remember it? That night was engraved into my memory like the scars that riddle my body.
"How you've tried to keep it all in? All the rage, distress, despair? You were ready to drop out right then and there, but you kept going, after I drilled it into your head. You put blood, sweat and tears into becoming what you are now. And you are thriving. And it's okay to wonder, it's okay to think you aren't good enough, that you won't amount to what they have, but you will. And partly you already have."
For a moment, I was rendered speechless, but I quickly caught myself. "That's really sweet of you to say. I appreciate it." I caught the single tear with my finger and wiped it away. "Ya made me tear up, damn it. I've been doing that too often lately. First the helicopter crash I was involved in, then the nightly terrors and if that wasn't enough, whoever controls my red string of life, decided to add another crash. I need a break." I complained.
"Hold on. A heli crash? Night terrors? More crashes? What happened?" Instantaneously his whole demeanour changed. What was once a smiling friend, was now a concerned man. His smile vanished within seconds, replaced by a deep furrow between his brows. His back straightened, the hand on my knee was pulled away quickly, as if afraid he'd accidentally hurt me without meaning to. His whole attention was fixated on me.
"Stop analysing me. I am okay. I ain't bleeding internally or similar, I got checked out and deemed fit enough. The only visible marks I have, are the ones on my lower arms. Wait, let me show you-" I extended my arms towards him and pointed the palms of my hands towards the ceiling. There, on my forearms were visible, still relatively angry, scabs. "See? They're healing well. At least good enough for me not to worry about them. Apart from that, I got away pretty unscathed. Excluding a couple of bruised ribs and tender places… I repeat, I am totally fin-"
"You are one lucky bastard."
"Oh, trust me, I bloody know." I answered.
"Good god. Comes with the job I suppose." He pinched the bridge of his nose, while a strained sigh left his lips. "What about the nightly terrors? What's that all about?"
"I- a panic attack. It was a full-blown panic attack."
"Struggled to breathe?"
"Yeah."
"Gasping for air? Irregular heartbeat? Cold sweat?"
I hummed in confirmation.
"Were you alone?"
"No…"
"Suds and Caspe-"
"Soap and Ghost were present, yes."
"Did they help you?"
Forthwith, the feeling of Soaps warm hands crossed my mind. Ghosts tense body language struck a nerve in me, and I remembered how my fingers trembled when I tried to interlace my own with his… The fear that gripped my heart, the anxiety I was drowning in. It was horrifying.
"Yes." Was all I could muster up in that moment.
He sighed in relief. "Good. That's good. I mean it's not good you had an episode, but I am glad you had someone beside you- you know what I mean." He babbled while I was already far away, submerged in my detailed recollection of said night.
"Leaf...?"
I zeroed back in on my friend. "Hmmm?"
"What's wrong? What have you been thinking about just now?"
I thought about the empty look in Ghost's cloudy eyes. The way he blankly stared past my head, as if he was far away, only his body standing in the present. Was he reliving a memory? A distant flashback, that should have stayed buried deep within his consciousness? The more I had stared into his eyes and allowed them to swallow me whole, the more I believed to recognize said emotions brewing beneath the surface.
Said realization, made my heart stutter in pain. I cared for him, cared for them, deeply. Within a matter of days, the two of them weaselled their way into my battered and bruised blood pumping organ.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "I may be in deep trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"I might have a crush." I whispered.
He gawked at me. "You absolute menace, I thought you had accidentally blown up an ally or shot a teammate in his arse!"
"Glad you think so highly of me." I remarked sarcastically and he shut me up with one stern look that was quickly followed by a happily beaming face.
"Love huh." He stated, eyebrows dancing up and down while he looked at me.
"I will wipe that smile off of your visage if you don't get a grip on yourself." I threatened.
"We both know you wouldn't, little Leaf." He answered knowingly. "A crush, huh? Who is it? Someone I know? A fellow soldier you met on your missions?"
I stayed silent.
"Don't tell me, is it someone from the outside?" He continued.
I snorted.
"Oh god. I'm afraid to even ask that. Is it a higher up?"
My fingers twitched.
"Shit, is it Graves?!"
I hurriedly clasped my hand over his mouth. "Jesus, keep it down, will ya? I know it's loud in here, but people still have ears!" I whisper yelled. Only when he nodded in understanding, I removed myself from him and sat back onto my chair.
"That you'd even ask me that. Of course it's not him, are you out of your damn mind? Dude's the embodiment of 'Murrica, fuck yeah'. I keep my distance to that, and he knows it." I shook my head. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. After all, not even I am certain what the fuck it is I am feeling." I disclosed and anxiously checked out our surroundings. No one seemed to have noticed any- Ghost was looking directly at me. My heart dropped and I could swear I heard it shatter when it crashed against the hard wood floor. I whipped my head back, face converted into fear and clouded by shame.
"The Lieutenant is looking our way. I hope he did not hear what you just exclaimed so enthusiastically, otherwise I will personally ask mister 'Murrica if I may tie you to an actual tree so I can throw pebbles at you!" I hissed at him.
"Rocks? You wound me!"
"This. Isn't. Funny." I spit out.
"No, no it isn't. I apologise." He hung his head apologetically and cleared his throat, anxiously. "Back to- before… What do you mean you don't know what exactly you are feeling? I seem to recall you were in a relationship once and-"
"Ah, you are alluding to my ex?" I tested the waters.
He confirmed my suspicions, to my utmost displeasure.
"I do not want to talk about it, but whatever we had back then, I would not call that love."
He nodded understandably. "Alright. Different approach. What exactly do you feel when you think about the person of interest?"
I could write a whole novel about the emotions that flicker through me on the daily basis. Where do I even begin to describe them? "That's not an easy question to answer, let me think for a moment."
"Take your time."
I took a deep, reassuring breath. "I'd say, genuinely, a vast number of things. Although not the typical 'butterflies in my stomach' kind of feelings. I don't even know for certain, if the butterflies are considered something positive or negative at this point. I've read they indicate anxiety, which isn't good, supposedly." I stared at my fingers. "And that's beside the point… Would you be alright with examples?"
"Yes of course." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited expectantly.
I cleared my throat, preventatively.
"His laugh is like music to my ears. Cheesy, I know. Let me illustrate it for you. When I hold a conversation with him, and he laughs at a joke or funny situation, I get the sudden urge to tell him more funny anecdotes. I'd pull the worst one-liners out of my ass to hear his laughter one more time. I don't want it to die down, I want to immerse myself in it as long as possible… Silly, isn't it?"
Sergeant MacTavish's laugh.
"Or when I managed to sneak a peek into his eyes. The first time it happened, I could distinguish so many untold emotions written within them. In a language I am yet unable to understand. And I begin to wish, he would teach me the speech he converses in, so I could explore the endless depths behind those alluring eyes of his."
Lieutenant Riley's eyes.
"At times, I catch him wearing a specific facial expression. An expression only someone would wear who is… well pleased? I can't pinpoint it. But in those instances, I imagine him being proud of me." I swallowed harshly. My throat was tightening from the emotional strain, but I kept going. "Anytime I see this look in his eyes, and I realize he is wearing it while looking at me, warmth spreads through my chest and grips my heart. It's pleasant and painful at the same time."
Captain Price's smile.
"And at last, when we do manage to have time for ourselves, once in a while, we spend it sitting in a bar and talking to our hearts content. In those moments, I feel, as if nothing can harm me. As if everything is alright and the world is actually breathtaking and worth living in..." I fumbled with my shirt. "Our simple conversations turn deep and thoughtful. His eyes hold mine just a wee bit longer than necessary. I feel heard in those moments, I feel seen, understood. It's as if he is able to see me for who I am and not who I am trying to be."
Sergeant Garrick.
When the last words left my fuzzy mouth, I didn't feel relieved. I felt restless, uneasy, uncertain. While the burden, I had been carrying around for months and months, has been lifted from my tired, aching shoulders, I felt a new strain push down on me. After all, I had just told my closest friend treasured information. Knowledge, an outsider would shed blood for.
I picked up my drink and let the cold liquid, burn down my throat. Did I do the right thing?
"That's... That's wonderful. This is what I would call love, or the beginning of something extraordinary. You don't always have to feel it the way others do, but the things you described, could easily be your own version of 'butterflies in your stomach'."
My eyes bored into his as the weight of his words gradually settled into my mind.
"I take it you have not walked up to him yet and simply asked him on a date?" He knowingly lifted one eyebrow as he awaited my answer. I didn't even manage to open my mouth when he intercepted. "Although now that I think about it, that is unusual of you. Haven't you always praised yourself with being direct and quick to move onward, to let the person know you are interested in them?"
Oh, sweet child of mine…
"Yah, I may have flattered myself a bit too much. It was only one time I was able to ask a guy out."
"One? Really?"
"Yeah. The first boy of interest was already taken, so, naturally I didn't even attempt to ask him. And the second is the one I actually asked. Safe to say, he made it his mission to make fun of me after he had rejected my efforts."
"What a prick."
"He was allowed to say no." I laughed.
"I meant the second part."
"I know, was just pulling your leg." I giggled. "He really was a dickhead for that…"
"Hmhm. What's the difference between back then and now?"
"Oh gods. A lot of things. For one, I have trauma now." I winked and laughed at his silly expression. "Well, it is true, but not the actual reason. I fear it may be only a fixation. I have times where I start to obsess over things, sometimes even people. What if I am so captivated by the thought of imagining the perfect match, that I disregard the actual person behind it? This can't be healthy, and I doubt that it is considered love. No, let me rephrase. I know that it's not love."
"Hold on, slow down. What do you mean by that?"
"I am no stranger to excessive desire and hyper fixations. It is plausible it's just another one of those…" I bit down on my tongue.
"Okay. Simple fix. How long have you felt that way?"
I grumbled, annoyed. "Fine, it's been months… If not a year. It has gotten worse in the past few days though." I scratched the back of my neck nervously.
"Months? Have your previous endeavours taken up so much time?"
I pressed my eyes shut in frustration. He had some compelling arguments, reasonings I myself have chewed through a number of times. Deep down I knew the truth. I was but genuinely frightened by it.
"No. Maybe a week or two. Three at max."
"Case closed. You've fallen hard." He proudly announced.
"I have not. This sounds like you have just pulled it out of your arse."
His shoulders lowered and I heard him take in a sharp breath.
"Leaf, love comes in many shapes and sizes. What works for someone else, might not work for you and vice versa. The one you just described to me? Is one of many forms love can display itself. Just… If you could have seen your own face when you talked about that man, with such affection in your eyes, you would certainly acknowledge the truth my words hold. And I have never seen you that way before…" His voice cracked. "But I wish I could see you like that for eternity. You looked-"
"Joyful?" "Delighted." We spoke up simultaneously, causing us both to fall silent right after, mulling over the words we had just said.
"I admit, thinking about it makes me… happy." My voice trembled. "But deep down I know nothing will come of it. I am not a desirable woman in many aspects. The lack of knowledge in several topics, may it be politics, history, or other similar things, makes people lose interest. The simple joys I feel when seeing a wonderful sunrise or a butterfly coming to rest on my shoulder, irritates people. I am not a strong woman, I need help and I am not afraid to ask for it, yet I am certain, a man of their calibre, would want a woman, who is just as independent as them. And I? I am, far below that. Don't even get me started on the deep mental wounds I carry with me. Who would want a woman, that carries such baggage wherever she goes?" My voice had gotten quieter, the longer I spoke about myself and when I finished, I did not dare to look the man opposite of me, into his saddened eyes.
"It pains me to hear the way you see yourself. Why do you allow the opinions of people who don't even matter to dictate your life?"
"Because I was proven over and over again, that there was a teeny tiny bit of truth behind those words."
"Having flaws is human. Certainly, there might be characteristics that aren't the most appealing, but nothing I have ever heard of you or seen, for that matter, was dreadful enough for me to reconsider our friendship. I think you might have had shitty friends."
"Perhaps, to a certain degree."
He shook his head in disbelieve.
"Then, if you understand that, why are you giving up before you even try it?"
"Because it's what I genuinely feel. I may be a dreamer and hopeless romantic, but I am a realist first and foremost."
"Bullsh-" I held my hand up to stop him.
"Might as well let the cat out of the bag. I doubt I have to mention that what I am about to say, stays strictly between us. You already know that."
"Obviously."
"Good." I took a deep breath. "It is not 'a man'. It is 'men', as in plural."
I watched the gears in his head shift and turn.
"Men?" He repeated.
"This is embarrassing." Placing a hand over my face, I flexed my jaw and let out a tight, short breath. "Please don't make me repeat myself."
"I won't. I'm just, processing."
"That sounds even worse. I never imagined the evening to turn out this way. Gods, would I have known I wouldn't have shown up." I laughed bitterly. "Feels like I took a wrong turn and accidentally walked into a fictional world."
"What if they feel the same way about you?"
"I'm sorry what?" I stared at him in utter disbelieve.
"What if they feel the same way about you?"
It took me several seconds to answer. "Then I'd be the luckiest woman alive."
He smiled at me, hopeful.
I stared at him, displeased and seconds away from bursting his blissful bubble he surrounded himself with.
"If I wanted to see a joke, I'd look in the mirror for crying out loud. I'm sure winning the lottery would be easier at this point. Definitely easier than explaining to four individual men, that I have a crush on them. To even consider one of them might be interested in me... Who am I? A long-forgotten queen and heir to a legendary throne? A princess from the lands beyond?" I saw Toby take in a breath. I instantly shut him down. "That was a rhetorical question. I am no queen nor princess. Oh and, the little wittle detail. You know, the one that prohibits us from dating between the ranks… Not that important, am I right? Could only cost me my career." I added sarcastically.
"Four? Four… men?"
"Yes." I breathed out loud, again being reminded of the absurdity of it all. "Four men."
"What are their ranks?"
I avoided his gaze. I didn't want to answer him, but ultimately knew, he'd figure out sooner rather than later who it is. It wasn't hard to guess. Biting the bullet, I reluctantly answered.
"Two Sergeants, one Lieutenant and one-" I paused for a second, "-Captain." I murmured.
"So, in other words, Casper, Suds, Kyle and Captain Crunch? Yea?"
I nearly crushed the paper straw between my trembling fingers.
"I shouldn't be surprised you figured it out that quick, yet at the same time it irks me how blasted brisk you were. Makes me wonder if I am more obvious than I thought I was. Am I that apparent?"
"Nah, don't think so. You gave me enough clues though."
I hummed in acceptance. "And why on earth would you refer to Gaz as only Kyle and the Captain as crunch? Why crunch? Why Kyle? Why not gasoline or… or fuel or some shit?"
The sound of his laughter filled my ears.
"Kyle is kinda boring. Like-" He waved with his hands around, as if he was introducing me to new people. "-here, meet Ghost. Oh, and this is Soap. And here? Here is Kyle."
"His callsign is Gaz." I echoed what I had said previously.
"Yeah, nah, it's Kyle. Plain and simple Kyle."
"Fine, let's pretend you gave me a solid reason for the name, although I still think you should go for Gasoline. Suits him much better. What about the Captain then?" I picked up my drink.
"Captain Crunch."
"Yeah, I know that. I heard you the first time, but why Crunch?"
"It's cereal." He laughed.
"What-"
"I figured you would like to eat him. So, cereal fit."
I choked on the sip I had just taken. Gulping for air, a heavy hand landed on my back, and I winced in pain. With the now semi-cleared airways, I gasped at the burning sensation that spread down my throat and coughed. "Leave-" I coughed again. "-some damn air for me!" I felt my face and ears warm up. "You play dirty." I spit out, eyes watery from the scare I had just had.
"Always have… You doing alright? You're turning kinda red there."
I hid my face behind my hands like a toddler. "…'m fine."
"You sure? Your face is a deep shade of red now. Are you ill? Want me to call for Casper, I'm sure he's still watching us… Yep, he is. Oh, Suds is lookin' too. Maybe I can call for both of them and they can-"
"Toby bloody Morrison!" I still held my hands in front of my face but spread my fingers far enough to look between them and see the smugness settle over his delighted face. "I will- You- I… Argh… Uhh."
"Yes? What is it you want to tell me? C'mon, you can do it." He leaned forward, as if he was talking to a child. "Slow and steady, one word at a time." He smiled widely. "Did you overheat? Why are you hiding your face, I have already seen it turn red from between your dainty fingers. C'mon, you know you don't need to hide from me."
I swiped his oncoming hand away, exposing my brilliant scarlet face to him.
"Sleep with your eyes open tonight!" I gave him my best death stare.
"Or what? You gonna blush me to death?" He chuckled.
The heat was beginning to feel unbearable, spreading over my shoulders and chest, down my torso. The loose shirt I wore, suddenly felt too tight around my neck, too cramped around my bosom, and I yanked it away, allowing some much-needed air to roll down my heated skin. Even so, it wasn't enough to cool me down, as my jeans befall the same uncomfortable fate.
Everything was suddenly too much. I was overwhelmed.
"I. Will. Haunt. You." I pointed with two fingers at my own eyes and then at his. "I've got you in my sights, Colonel."
"Perhaps you shouldn't do that too often. Could cause some jealousy to flare up between your admirers and you." He smiled knowingly at me and sent me a flirtatious wink.
"You are insufferable." I declared with a huff.
"Oh, I know you adore me."
"Count yourself lucky that I do." I smiled wickedly and sent a teasing wink right back at him. Watching him nearly drop his drink because of it, amused me, yet before I could comment on it, a yell reached both our ears.
"Morrison!"
In unison, both our heads turned towards the shouting man. It was another shadow.
"Ahh, that's my cue." My friend announced and slowly slipped from his chair. I quickly followed suit. "It was wonderful seeing you again."
"Likewise. Wish we could do this more often."
"I know lil' leaf. I know." He said and pulled me into a hug I lovingly returned.
"Keep me updated on your suitors."
"Oh, shut your darn mouth." I grumbled as he pulled away from me. "Better run back to your friends, before I send you flying there."
A burst of deep, loud, and hearty laughter escaped him.
"Keep an eye on yourself, I'd hate to see anything happen to you." He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.
"Same applies to you." I reassuringly touched his arm.
"Oi! Get your ass over 'ere already, Colonel!" Another shout caught our attention, causing Toby to sigh displeased.
"Go on. Your friends are waiting." I urged him on.
He sent me one last gentle look, turned around and walked away. As my fingers slipped from him, a sense of loss clouded my mind. A feeling, blooming deep down in my gut. Uncertain what to do with this information, I shoved it in the back of my head. I would think about it at a later time.
Leisurely making my way to the table my teammates had previously occupied, I was surprised to see only the Lieutenant still sitting there.
"May I?" I asked while pointing at the empty seat.
He nodded and I smoothly slid in beside him, whilst lowering my drink onto the table.
"Anything broken?" He queried, startling me.
"No, all's fine." I answered with a slight stutter, not expecting him to ask any questions at all.
"Good."
"Why? Was I visibly distraught?" I joked, trying to overcome the nerves that bubbled up to the surface.
Has he heard anything? Does he… know?
"Should you be?"
Touché.
Uncertain what the right reaction would be, I solely shook my head in denial. A heartbeat later and I leaned back while closing my eyes when Ghosts voice resonated through the stuffy air once more.
"You seemed-" A pregnant pause befell between us, as if he was searching for the right term to explain what he was thinking about. "Troubled."
The conversation seemed rather odd and very unusual for the very reserved Lieutenant.
I side-eyed him, hoping I could catch a vital hint by analysing his body language, instead I found my eyes being swallowed up by his. The sudden urge to open up to him crashed into me. Allow him to take the reins skilfully out of my battered and bruised hands, whilst leading me onto the right path.
But deep down I knew I couldn't. He was my superior, and I was only a meagre Corporal.
"Just some minor hardships." I answered.
He hummed. "Careful who you trust with those-"
"People you know, can hurt you the most." I bit down on my tongue. "I know. But I believe my trust in him is not misplaced."
"I can respect that. Let's hope for him, that you are right."
"Let's hope for him?" I paused momentarily as I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Pray tell, what do you mean by that?" He evaded my questioning gaze, and I immediately knew what he meant. But I didn't give up so easily, I wanted him to spell it out for me. Assuming wasn't something I liked to do, as more often than not, I'd make an ass out of myself and the person in question if my assumptions would end up being wrong. "Am I right to presume your trust was misused? What have you done to the-?"
His eyes locked onto mine as he answered.
"Not enough."
I raised an eyebrow at his statement that piqued my interest yet as his eyes fell from mine, I felt unsettled. There was something in them that urged me to keep my distance. Previously I had mistakenly interpreted it as shame, but it was far from that. It was hurt and the pure rage born from it.
As I opened my mouth to ask further, the familiar voice of our Sergeant interrupted me.
"Ah, yer back! Perfect. Lt., we've got a section for ourselves. Ascii, ye comin' wi' us?" He asked me expectantly.
"Joining for what exactly?" I requested to know.
"Got a wee room for us in the back. A bit more secluded from the rest, just to wind doon on our own and away from prying eyes, aye?"
"That sounds lovely." My slightly too excited exit off the bench, caused me to trip after getting caught by the tables leg. Quickly clutching the edge of the table, I managed to prevent myself from kissing the ground.
"Fuck me." I mumbled into thin air, flustered.
"Cannae do that, love." Soap voiced and I stared up at him, face turning hot from the innuendo.
"Dickhead." I grumbled under my breath.
"What did ye say?"
"I said I was ready to go." I smiled innocently at the man before me.
"Nippers. I'll be there in a minute." Ghost declared, yet before he walked away, he glanced at the glass in my hand. "Do ya want a refill?"
I looked at said drink and shook my head. "No, thank you. One's enough for me."
He confirmed with a nod and left while I turned towards Soap and followed him through the crowd. Manoeuvring with ease between the masses, my eyes were glued to his back. I counted the creases in his shirt, watched the muscles tense and his hair shine under the numerous different lights we passed by.
The loud music from the bar, was now but a faint melody in the background as our steps echoed through the rooms we passed. As we stepped into a long hallway, my eyes bounced from door to door, analysing, observing, wondering, what was behind each and every one of them. My question unfortunately, wasn't answered. None of the doors had any plaques to indicate their use.
Coming up to the last door, the incidence of a dimly lit light, bled onto the corridor.
"Here we 're." Soap pushed to the door open and beckoned for me to walk past him and thus enter first.
Wordlessly thanking him, I pushed past him and into the small room. Taking it in with some precise glances, I was astonished to see a screen take up the majority of the furthest wall. Voicing my amazement, I turned towards Soap.
"I did not expect that."
He laughed. "What did ye expect?"
"No clue. Maybe a radio and some armchairs? Definitely not a full-blown karaoke room. What on earth?"
"Aye, that was also my first thought. Seems like they've got even more entertainment in the other rooms. Gotta keep the lads on their toes, ye know?"
"Indubitably, we gotta tell the Captain that we need to upgrade our own common rooms." I expressed and the Sergeant nodded vigorously.
Settling down on the couch, I placed my drink to the side and mused in silence how unusually quiet it was around us. Unsure what to do next, I simply watched my companion fumble with the small remote in his hands, when a thought popped into my mind.
"Need a hand?" I asked, holding back the laughter that threatened to escape.
"Nah."
Yet although he declined, I shoved my hand under his nose with a cheeky grin. "You sure you don't need a hand?" I exclaimed, pointing with my eyes at my arm that hovered just above his lap.
His head turned painfully slow, and I could easily follow his eyes trail up my outstretched limb to my face. As he reached his destination, he stared me down, fumbling to keep his expression in check. "Ye absolute bawbag!"
I managed to hold my ground for several painful moments, yet as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, I couldn't help myself from bursting out into loud laughter.
He wasn't far behind me.
Abruptly, the door flew open, and my laughter instantly died out. Noticing it was only Ghost who was standing in the doorway, I quickly loosened up again and snorted at the recollection.
"Still can't make your mind up?" Ghost asked perplexed as he reached the sofa in a few big steps.
"She's being a comedian." Soap explained, trying to get a hold of himself.
"Probably 'coz you're takin' ages."
I stifled a laugh.
"Ye weren't here. She put her arm on me lap and asked me if I needed a hand."
"Well, I mean..." I began to defend myself, yet to the Sergeants and my own utter surprise, the Lieutenant chuckled. A low laugh rumbling through his chest and vibrating off of the walls of the room. I was mesmerized.
"Not bad." He stated.
The conversation that flowed between them and turned into teasing chitchat, went through my left ear and out the other. Even as the first notes of a melody filled the air around us, I was mutely staring at the bright screen. I did not register the lyrics slowly sliding onto the display, nor the Sergeant getting up from beside me. The only sound I could hear, was Ghosts amused expression.
Simons laugh.
It had caught me completely flat-footed. He appeared so different from the man I had fought alongside the past days. It seemed, as if it wasn't Ghost that sat beside us, but Simon.
I felt special.
"C'mon Lt." The Sergeants voice boomed over the stereo, causing me to blink back to reality. Turning my head, I looked at Ghost, who sat leisurely beside me, staring dead serious at a beaming Soap.
"No."
No to what? I wondered briefly before the tune sunk in. I watched as Soap took a long breath and began to sing.
At first, I was astonished and slightly embarrassed, as I was projecting my own feelings of discomfort onto him, yet the longer I was exposed to his singing, the more I had to admit that he was good. Really good.
As he stood in the middle of the room, body moving to the beat, voice resonating through the small space, I couldn't help but smile widely at the display. I felt cosy and warm. A sense of familiarity falling over my shoulders like a soft, warm blanket.
In that moment I wished for the night to never end.
And for a long time, it didn't as with each song that came and went, I felt more inclined to join the man in the spotlight. Still, I held back, until the genre morphed awfully close into the one, I enjoyed the most.
At first it was only a finger that moved in a specific rhythm, not long after though, the movement rushed up my back, causing me to slightly swing my upper body and bop my head to the beat as well.
Nevertheless, it didn't feel as satisfying as I had hoped it would. The fulfilment was lacking, and I was ghastly itching for more. But I was also a coward; afraid of their reactions, worrying about what they might think of me. Would they be ashamed if I sang terribly? What about a botched dance? I never learned how to properly move in such a setting, how to act accordingly. Would it be socially acceptable if I simply invited myself on the stage? Should I ask first and uphold my manners instead?
Before long, a new song seeped into my core and touched my very soul. I stopped in my tracks momentarily. I knew that melody. I knew those lines. My heart urged me to get up, to join Soap and sing along, however my mind protested against it.
You'll only make a fool of yourself if you do that. Who'd want to hear you sing like a broken record, see you move your stiff limbs. Let Soap lead the evening, no need to step in between- My inner voice brought ill will down on me.
But I paid it no mind. At this point in time, my desires overthrew my spinelessness.
Taking a deep, rigid breath, I pushed myself off the couch and onto my shaky legs. I was visibly nervous, my head was spinning from the adrenalin pumping through my veins, and my heart was threatening to jump out of my chest, yet I didn't falter. I didn't want to miss this opportunity.
With a few minor steps, I found myself beside the Sergeant who hadn't noticed me yet. Softly touching his arm that held the microphone, he jerked under me. I shook my head at him apologetically, ghosting with my fingers over his arm before I hovered my way down his forearm. Placing my hand on his I pulled the microphone closer to me, while simultaneously stepping into his comfort zone and began to sing along.
My voice was rough, and I feared I might combust from the shame slamming into me. Glancing at Soap, all my concerns vanished, blinded by his brilliant smile. My breath fell short, and my voice died for but a moment, as I stared at him.
Soap promptly hunched slightly forward and joined in, covering my fleeting speechlessness.
Urging me to keep going, he hastily placed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. Now, as I stood alongside him in the centre of the room, with his arm pressing down on me and his voice partially booming over my own, my heart steadily calmed down and my voice smoothed out until at last, our voices melted into each other, creating the perfect harmony.
"Paint my gob smacked face." Soap declared as the song came to an end. "Ye were real' good. What a pity we cannae dae that more often, eh Lt.?"
"A proper shame that." Ghost piped in.
I laughed awkwardly. "It was alright."
"I'm bein' serious. Yer good. Wouldn't mind ya chirping in more often."
I felt a blush creep up my neck. "T-thank you! I'll think about it, I did mention I'll tell the Captain to add this one on the list of things we need for our base of operations."
"Aye, good, good. That's all I wanted." He patted me on the back. "And aye, ye said that."
"You got a whole list?" Ghost questioned.
"Got one now." I grinned and he hummed.
"Ascii, do ye want to choose the next song?" Soap questioned me.
"Yea, sure. Ehm, gimme like a second and I'll pick one out!"
Hesitantly taking the remote out of his grasp, I scrolled through the endless list of songs. Hopping from one catalogue to the next, nothing sparked my interest. With each passing second, the nervousness began to rise further and further.
"Strugglin' to find one ye fancy?" The Sergeant looked over my shoulder.
"Yeah. There's just so many, I dunno which one to pick." I admitted.
"Choose one you'd listen to if you'd be on your own." The Lieutenant encouraged.
One I'd listen to if I were alone?
Unexpectedly, a song came to mind.
"Got one, let's see if you know the lyrics to it." I chuckled.
"I'm sure I do, luv." Soap responded confidently.
And indeed, he did. I was thunderstruck.
Just as previously, my shyness evaporated the moment he pulled me into his side. Closing my eyes in pure joy, I allowed the melody to flow through my whole body. As the lights flashed behind my closed eyelids, I envisioned myself being this happy forever. Opening my eyes again, I felt more strands escaping from behind my ears. The hood, that had been barely holding onto its intended position, had somewhat slid from its place. Just as the song reached its peak, I jerked it off my head, allowing my hair to frame my beaming face.
I was on cloud nine and wanted the world to see.
Pulling away from the Sergeant I moved my body to my heart's desire, hair flying wildly into every direction. As I took a look around the room, I noticed the Lieutenants leg was moving to the beat, while his eyes were closed. He seemed at peace, and I thought it suited him very well. Checking if Soap had also noticed Ghost's high spirit, our eyes met and a wordless conversation transpired between us, followed up by two bright smiles.
Thus, the night flew by and promptly, I found myself plopping back onto the sofa, voice raw, heart racing, face sore from the endless smiles and a frame of mind I clung onto with my dear life.
"That. Was. Awesome!" I blurted out, breathless. "But holy hell you got some strong vocal cords, what the actual fuck?"
"Comes wi' practice." He winked at me.
"I can see that." I smiled back at him. "Man, as much as I don't want the evening to end, I think that was it for me. I'm spent." I yawned behind the mask, tears springing to my eyes.
"Yeah, it's proper late now and we need to charge up for tomorrow." Ghost said, voice oozing with the authority he usually adorned himself with. Nevertheless, I nodded in agreement.
"Ach aye, ye're spot on. We'll have plenty o' other days to sing a few mair ballads." Soap added, turning off the electronics and placing everything neatly back onto their designated spots.
Forcing myself back on my legs, I grabbed the empty drinks from the side table and walked towards the door. As I opened the door, cool air hit my warm cheeks. Taking a step onto the hallway, I turned my upper body to look at my companions one more time.
"Perhaps you'd also feel comfortable enough to join us?" I focused on the man in question. "Lt.? Or do you prefer not to sing? That's of course, completely fine as well." I began to sweat nervously. What was I thinking? Where did I get the audacity to ask such a question at all? Why would I even ask that? He knows he may do as he pleases. He's a Lieutenant, my superior, for god's sake. If anyone decides anything, it's him choosing for us, not the other way around.
"Maybe nex' time." He answered nonchalantly.
At once my mind went quiet.
"I- I'm looking forward to it." I expressed with a shaky voice and walked away, clutching the cups tighter to my tense body.
This chapter was the bane of my existence. I had it written out, months ago, and then I had to re-read it, what felt like the 10th time, just to realize that I absolutely loathed it. I have been deleting and rewriting the majority of the chapter, over and over again since then… In spite of that, I think I am pleased I put that much more time, thought and effort into it (in my perfectionists' eyes, this chapter is alright at best). Still, I am glad it is finally over, and I can move on onto new chapters. I cannot wait to write them out and put my own little twists to them.
For the songs, my own picks were Porcelain by Motionless in White (as the song that urged Ascii to finally sing along) and Broken Crown by Hopes Avenue (for the song she picks out on her own).
Thank you for still being here, although it takes me so long to update. I appreciate you all so much and cherish every comment and kudos I get. Brings happy tears to my eyes. Love you all
P.S.: As far as I can see and through excessive research, there is no information that reveals Kate's wife name, hence I just put one there. I think it sounds cute merged with Kate's name; however, it is NOT canon.