shit got me sobbing at 1am. it's scaringly well-written, i recommend checking it out ^^
SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2
❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it
ꜝ? Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.
paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !
Part 1 (^_^;)
SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.
—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—
There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.
—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.
It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.
Too accepting.
—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.
There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.
—it wasn't.
He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,
Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,
Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.
—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.
The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.
You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.
He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,
For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.
—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,
He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,
He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.
—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.
He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.
—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.
He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.
—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.
As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.
There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.
It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.
Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.
﹑
“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”
You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,
For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.
“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”
The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”
Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?
﹑
With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.
“[name]?” he knocks,
Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”
The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,
“I'm sorry,” he whispers,
“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”
To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?
“[name] I love you.”
He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.
It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”
“Baby are you okay?” no response.
Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.
The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...
Right?
“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.
The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.
“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”
He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,
He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,
“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”
The silence rung,
Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.
A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”
“Jokes over [name] get up—”
When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.
How long have you been here?
In this state? How long has it been since you left him?
He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.
How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?
He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,
There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?
If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.
It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,
Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,
Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.
He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,
The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.
“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.
Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.
Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,
Cradling whatever is left of you,
Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.
The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,
but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.
At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.
This person right this moment was your simon,
He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.
As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,
If i didnt leave,
If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?
He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?
His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.
Like you always did.
At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.
Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.
Simon,
I felt everything.
Thank you, and im sorry,
I love you :)
Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.
He cant imagine a greater pain,
It felt surreal.
How could I..
How could I have lost you this easily.
With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.
How could he have not seen?
How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.
The very fear you spoke of,
He did just exactly what your family had done.
If anybody could have saved me,
it would have been you.
He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.
Despite the war inside your mind,
Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.
May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.
He read it all,
Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,
Everything you failed to say while you still lived.
It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,
How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.
It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.
He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.
Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's
If he stayed,
If he hadn't walked out,
If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,
If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.
He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.
Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,
So you could return.
A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.
"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."
"I'm sorry you had to be alone."
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.
At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.
Thank you for making me feel.
The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.
"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm so sorry for not being here you."
He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,
To avoid losing you.
Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.
The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,
"Can I hug you?"
"One last time?"
Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,
You were bidding him goodbye.
That really was the final hug.
The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.
He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?
It ached.
And it ached painfully.
The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.
The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,
As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.
This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,
If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.
As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,
You left a sillage worth remembering.
"I'll keep you in my heart,
Even if that damage me,
Even if it kills me.
I'll keep you safe forever."
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