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How it Ends

tags: Simon Ghost Riley x reader, angst, ambiguous ending, guns, no violence tho...

You wanted to tell him you love him. But with the barrel of the gun pressed to your head, the words stay lodged in your throat. And even if you said it—shout it, cry it—Ghost wouldn't believe you. Not Ghost. Not the man who's survived betrayal after betrayal until it rotted and carved out whatever softness he had left. Not even if you ripped your heart out of your chest and laid it gently in his palms.

Ghost wouldn't take it. No, he'd look and stare at it with the same unreadable look on his face. Like it was some sort of trick. Because who would ever do that for him? No one. Not really.

And now here you are—tears in your eyes, heart in pieces—and the person you love is staring at you down the barrel of his gun. Breathing hard. Silent. Shaking. And for once, you're not the only one breaking apart.

"You don't love me," Ghost says. Flat, low, certain. No hesitation in his voice, just quiet conviction like this was a known fact itched into his bones. And despite that, there's a tremor in his voice that he couldn't quite hide. Not from you. No—never from you.

You want to scream and shout I do. God, you do. So much that its ripping you apart, but what good would it do now? 

You keep your voice steady, or you try to. It cracks instead like the rest of you. "How do you know I don't ?" 

He doesn't answer right away. His eyes flickering. Not with rage or fire, no, something worse. doubt

"How could you love me?” his voice is quiet, low, like he's decided. “I'm nothing." 

He says like it explained everything. Like those two measly words could sum up every corner of himself. Those two words that he clings to like a truth he's sentenced himself to, ones that he couldn't come back from. Because in his mind, that's all he's worth. Nothing.

Your heart shatters—you can feel the pieces drop into the pit of your stomach. 

"What if I did love you?"  

The muzzle presses harder against your skull. 

He's trying to convince himself you're lying. Trying to give himself a reason to pull the trigger—or not to.

But you don't move. You don't flinch. You welcome it. Because if there was one selfish thing you've always taken without apology, it's his attention. This muzzle was his, and it's on you. And it's enough. So you welcome it, letting it soften you.

Because everyone knows, love burns. It hurts and it aches. And love with someone like ghost was never going to be clean. You knew that, and you chose it anyway.  

He exhales slow and bitter. "Wouldn't believe you" he seethes. 

A tear slides down your cheek. 

And you knew that. You always knew. 

So you swallow it down. Bury the truth down with all the other things that will never be said. Let it rot, settle inside you like something dead and heavy. 

Because this is who he is. 

And this—this is how it was always going to end.