nervouslaughter05

[nervouslaughter05]

Chapter 6: Shots Fired

A/N: HELLOOOOOOOO I have settled into my new workplace (mostly) and am happy to say I'm getting married in a little over a week! With some newfound free time I'm finding myself to have, I have rediscovered my life of writing! I'm very happy to present the next chapter. I did my best to proofread it, but I'm sure there's still weird language/grammar in it. As always, please heed the content warnings and enjoy! CW: Canon-typical violence, language, mentions of killing

Come yell at me on Twitter @vegas719 and my art insta @timetoart05

Grizzly was second to last in the group, Gaz behind her. Price was up front, leading the team through the woods to the assigned pickup point. While she had been asleep, they’d managed to radio back into base and get in contact with the remainder of the team there. The man who’d given them their brief, some high ranking officer her sleep-deprived brain couldn’t remember, had been absolutely livid when they made contact and reported the death of the other team. She suspected it was less anger and more grief, as it would have been for Price had he found out that the lot of them had died on a mission. 

Once again, she’s reminded of just how fragile her very existence was, seemingly held above a floor covered in bubbling lava and sharp rocks by a thin string threatening to snap at any moment.

The woods around them were filled with life, birds chirping happily away and insects buzzing somewhere off to her right. Very likely given the lay of the land there was a small stream somewhere, tucked away. She would’ve loved to explore the area if they were there under different circumstances. However, they were all trudging through the undergrowth holding various forms of weaponry on the lookout for an organization bent on killing them.

So yeah, Grizzly was probably gonna pass on the casual stroll through the grass for today.

The med bag on her back was cumbersome, the bottom of it smacking against her tailbone with each step instead of fitting nicely into her lower back like the one back home did. Unfortunately, there was only so much gear she could bring with her, and the custom fitted pack her marines had gifted to her wasn’t part of the list. She’d taken some pain killers a couple hours ago, but they weren’t strong enough to fully rid her of the pain from her wounds. She was saving that for the rest of the team in case shit hit the fan again. 

“So you and Lt were fending alone in the safehouse while we were gone eh?” Soap asks from in front of her. “Can’t imagine being alone with him for that long. Drove me mad in Las Alamas, and half of that was with him just in my ears.”

She snorts, remembering that entire situation. Granted, she’d been unconscious for the first hour or so from the blow to her head–which when she thought about it needed a concussion exam that she never received–but had still been awake for a good majority of what had happened. Graves had betrayed them and in the fight that ensued, a shadow had decided to whack the back of her head with the butt of his rifle and try to take her hostage like they did Alejandro. Ghost had carried her out of the line of fire while Soap had fled injured. She tries not to think about that night too often.

“Put aside the bad dad jokes and he’s really not that bad to be around,” Grizzly replies, adjusting the straps of her bag on her shoulders for the hundredth time while they had been walking.

“Lunatics the both of ya,” he says and she just chuckles.

Gaz pipes up from behind her, asking, “What did the two of you get up to while the rest of us were making our way to you?”

Grizzly shrugs, acting very nonchalant about the entire thing. She was definitely going to leave out how she’d almost died out there if it hadn’t been for the lieutenant’s help–at least until they got to the evac. Knowing that taking too long to answer would make them suspect something, she just tells them a quick version of what happened. She also was going to leave out the exchange she’d had with Ghost following her inability to sleep.

“Ghost and I had a mild run-in on the way to the safehouse, but other than that it was just us standing watch and waiting for all of you to show up.”

Soap turns his head to look back at her, likely to ask about the “mild run-in” they’d had. There’s a sudden commotion off to their left and all of them are instantly leveling their weapons at the source of the noise. She sees Ghost and Price swap looks out of the corner of her eye and she braces for the next move.

A racoon–the same fat and lazy one from earlier–literally <i>rolls</i> his fat little–

‘Well maybe not so little.’ 

-Ass from a clump of shrubbery. 

“Right,” Price says after a moment. “Carry on lads. It’s just a-fuck!”

A bullet whizzed past his head, lodging into the tree behind him. 

“Get down!”

Grizzly had dropped the second a bullet had fired, low crawling to a spot of cover. Soap and Gaz both join her after a few seconds, and then Ghost and Price after them. 

Ghost was already set to go, his rifle set up in its proper position with Soap doing the same. She was mentally cataloging the medical supplies left in her bag. Grizzly knew her current stash was lower than what she needed, purely because this mission was only supposed to be a day at most and had turned into almost three at this point. While she would normally pack extras given the lessons learned in her days as a marine doc, that didn’t mean it was enough for the potential injuries from a conflict like this. 

There’s no further shots fired, the woods around them deathly still. The birds had stopped chirping–how long had they been quiet?–and upon quick inspection of their surroundings the racoon had made it to safety. Funny how she felt relief over a random animal not being shot. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap mutters under his breath. “Damn bastards just can’t die.”

Grizzly grimaces. “American’s are a bit like cockroaches–even if you cut off our heads we still keep squirming for a while.”

“Wouldn’t a chicken that’s lost its head be more accurate, eh?” he counters.

“Now is not the time,” Ghost barks at them, and Gaz snickers. “Eyes sharp.”

It’s a moment before anything happens, but there’s a spattering of gunfire that sounds off above their heads. Grizzly recognizes the use of assault rifles from the sound. All of them stay hunkered down behind their cover, which was a fallen log and some rock clusters.

“Your teams have made some <i>big</i> trouble for me,” a voice informs them, deep with a slight southern tinge to it. “I’ve been operating for years with no trouble and all of the sudden some big bad english men dressed in fancy military uniforms wanna put an end to it? I don’t think so, buddy. Bless your bleeding hearts for wanting to help the greater cause, but y’all need to get the fuck out of my business before I make things difficult.”

‘What the fuck?’ she mouths to Soap as the man speaks.

“What? Are y’all deaf now too? My boys blow out your eardrums? Answer me,” the man demands, and she’s reminded faintly of the stereotypical abusive father you’d see in movies. Oops.

“It’s nothin’ personal lads,” Price calls out from behind their shelter and she almost laughs at how ridiculous this whole situation was. “Just conducting our own business. Same as you. Gotta make a paycheck somehow.”

The man chuckles. “Damn right. However, I don’t work for the government, Captain John Price.”

She goes stiff. This fucker knew who Price was? How the actual fuck-

“Yes, I know who you  are, Captain,” he tells them, sounding like a mother consoling a distraught child. “Just like you Captain, I’m a businessman. And like any good businessman I always look at any roadblocks I may face.”

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” Soap curses under his breath. “How the fuck did this bastard find out who Price is?”

“And it’s not just you, Captain. I know you have Lieutenant Simon Riley, Sergeants Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick and John ‘Soap’ Mactavish, and your wonderful medic– Petty Officer First Class Katelyn Ard. Am I missing anyone?” he continues, seeming all too pleased with himself.

His voice reminded her of the Lofthouse cookies back in the states with that frosting so sweet that it would make your stomach churn.

“You seem to be an educated man,” Price says. “And a reasonable one. Could we chat about this?”

“I’m afraid y’all lost the right to a casual ‘chat’ about this with me when you entered my facility and killed my men. So, please understand that what I do is nothing personal,” the man replies, and she hears several pairs of footsteps approaching them. “It’s just business.”

Men come around the sides of their cover, leveling the barrels of their weapons at them. Gaz reacts instantly, putting a bullet through the skull of the guy closest to them while Ghost and Price are doing the same. Soap, herself, and Price all pop up over the cover they’re behind, firing at the man and the men he’d brought with him. 

He was tall and broad, face covered in the shadow from his felt cowboy hat. He was well-dressed too, a show of his wealth from the various trafficking operations he ran. She doesn’t have a chance to process what he looks like much more before she’s firing off bullets in his direction along with that of his companions. Another man drops from where he’d taken cover behind a tree, blood pooling from the hole in his forehead. Grizzly drops down, reloading a fresh magazine in before popping back up. 

“Pull back!” the boss calls out over the sound of gunfire. “I’m not gonna lose more men to these fuckin’ Brits!”

The men began to retreat, firing off shots behind them so they couldn’t pursue too closely if at all. 

“Hold your fire,” Price orders, voice sharp. “We need to get the hell out of here and reapproach this later.”

“Price we cannae let this chance get away from us!” Soap protests. 

Gaz chimes in. “We don’t know when we’ll be able to come back-if at all.”

The captain shushes them, not wanting to hear any form of argument. Soap and Gaz deflate, the former of the two pouting over it. They stay on the defensive for a while–Grizzly doesn’t keep track exactly how long–before Price gives them the okay to get up and start moving again. This time, they move with a different speed than they had before, wanting to get out of these woods and back to base to avoid another confrontation like what they’d just had. Ammo was valuable and medical supplies as well, both of which they were burning through like it like a fire on dry grass. 

Price radioed back into the unit receiving them from the base, giving very light details about what had happened and confirming pickup.

It’s another 30 minutes or so before they get to the evac point, now just waiting for the humvees to roll up and take them back to base. The vehicles appear very soon after their arrival, one full of an additional support team should the need arise and the other empty for them to load up into. Grizzly gets in last, looking through her med bag as they start rolling back to base. The entire time she’s going through her bag, she’s thinking of that soldier she’d tried to save. Soap had told her that in the firefight that had split all of them up, he’d been shot again several times. One of the bullet wounds had cut open his carotid artery and the Scot had been able to do nothing except hold the dying man and try to give him some peace in his last moments. 

The knowledge destroyed her inside, but the pain from the loss got locked up into that box inside of her mind for the deaths of the men she served with. There were many lives inside there. Grizzly refused to let them out however–that would require a therapist, straight tequila, or a heartfelt conversation with her coworkers she knew would never happen.

00000

The team had all come back to base and gotten through the mission debrief, being sent off to medical for their injuries. The medical staff there had been surprised at Grizzly’s work. They’d complimented her on the stitches she’d placed, something she’d gotten experience in from her time out in the field. She just accepted the compliments without much thought and remained silent for most of their care to her. She really only spoke up when necessary to point out areas that were in pain or her own observations to the injured parts of her body.

After being discharged, Grizzly makes her way back to the main bay, flopping into her rack with a huff. Ghost was already back, having been discharged before them from the lack of sustained injuries. Price had to go off and handle business with the man who’d conducted their brief and also Laswell to reevaluate their steps going forward. Soap and Gaz went to grab some food from the mess hall, so they’d probably be gone for a while. 

All she wanted to do was sleep, not even that hungry despite a lack of food for the last almost 48 hours. 

“You should eat.”

‘‘’M tired,’’ she replies, voice muffled from how her face is pressed into her pillow. “Don’t feel like getting up.”

Ghost scoffs softly and she hears some light rustling before something is placed next to her head. Grizzly lifts up her head and sees a small styrofoam container that was hot to the touch. She raises an eyebrow looking at the lieutenant. 

“What’s this?” she asks as she sits up and sits cross legged with her back on the wall her rack was pushed against.

“Food,” he replies, like that wasn’t obvious. “Figured you wouldn’t want to grab anythin’, so I stopped by on my way back.”

Something weird and fluttery unfurls in her gut, but she shoves it down. “Thank you.”

He simply gives a gruff “Don’ mention it” and settles into his own rack–the one coincidentally next to hers on his back. His back is against the rails at the head of the mattress, most of his gear discarded next to his bunk much like she was about to do. The only thing left on him was the skull mask, his cargos and boots, and a black long sleeve. The fabric was stretched across his chest and torso, showing just how big he was even without all of his bulky gear. 

Grizzly goes through the process of removing all of her own gear, tac vest thumping on the ground and her weapons into the locker beneath her bed provided to each member of her team. Her boots are the last to come off, laying off to the side neatly as she leans back against the wall and opens the container. Her mouth waters, the smell of veggies and meat filling her nose. 

Fuck she missed having actually good food from the mess. 

Digging in, Grizzly mulls over the results of their mission in her head. She replays everything over in her head in an attempt to try and make sense of the shitshow they’d been thrown into on this mission. That man had known who they all were somehow, and she wanted to know how and, most importantly, why. She knew that there were people out there that would want to harm them purely for their affiliation with the military, but none had ever gone so far as to get their names. Frankly, no one was able to access that information either with how many passwords it would take to find their files. 

That in turn begs the question of who gave them that access.

“Get ready to head back to the states,” Ghost tells her, voice cutting through her thoughts. “We’re not likely to stay. Not after what happened out there.”

She almost chokes on her next bite of food, swallowing and looking up at her lieutenant suddenly. “What?”

“We’re wasting time and resources being here. It’s a bigger risk for us to stay than it is to go at this point.”

Grizzly finishes her last mouthful. “Those bastards know who we are, Ghost. Anyone we may know is at risk. Our families are at risk.”

“If he had wanted your families dead, then he would’ve already handled the problem.”

“Not necessarily,” she counters, suddenly feeling anxious. “He could be waiting for us to come back to the states or try to contact our families in some way. For all we know our families could have been already getting monitored without our knowledge of it.”

“Your families are fine,” Ghost tells her, and her worry-ridden mind barely processes his tone of voice before she’s carrying on. 

“But-”

“Your families are fine,” Ghost repeats, voice much firmer this time.

It was at that moment she remembers that the man never talks about his family…ever and worries that she may have struck a nerve. So, in place of trying to dig for what had made his voice so hard, she simply nods her head and falls silent. It was much easier than trying to unwrap the mystery that was Ghost. 

It’s silent for a while, and Grizzly worries she may have upset her lieutenant. 

“Get some rest,” he tells her right as she begins to worry he was plotting her murder. “I’ll wake ya if anything happens.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The exhaustion weighing down her bones makes itself known again, and she doesn’t fight his suggestion. Instead, she slips under the thin sheet and scratchy blanket issued upon her arrival here. Her body relaxes damn near instantly, melting into the mattress. Grizzly settles with her back to the wall so she could roll out of her rack faster should there be a need for such. 

With her eyelids being pulled down by fatigue, she fights off unconsciousness long enough to murmur, “Try to get some sleep too, Ghost.”

Not expecting a response, she lets herself drift off.

A/N: Me talking about the slow burn: "I've connected the dots" My friend: "You haven't connected shit" Me: "I've connected them"

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men Chapter 5: Back Together

A/N: I'm not dead!

Apologies for the loooooong wait and the shortness of this chapter. I've had a lot going on in my life between the writing of chapter 4 and now, which has left me with VERY little free time to actually sit down and write. I joined the military, went through bootcamp, got engaged, and am now getting ready to ship off to my first duty station. Not to mention all the little things in between with a crazy ex and insane family shit.

Anyways, with that out of the way, I give you chapter 5! Enjoy!

CW: mentions of injuries (nothing descriptive), language, mentions of killing

Come yell at me on Twitter @vegas719 and my art insta @timetoart05

Masterlist

Grizzly sighs, sitting up with a wince from where she lay on the floor. Sleep was impossible for her at this point. Between the dull buzz under her skin from the insanity of the last 24 hours and the aching of her injuries, she wasn’t able to wind down. Ghost had insisted she try to get some sleep while he took the first watch–jesus christ did that man ever sleep?–and she’d been unsuccessful thus far. 

Despite how worn out she felt from the injuries she’d sustained and the work her and Ghost had done to secure the safehouse, rest seemed damn near impossible while the worry of the fate of the rest of the team ate away at her brain.

She rises to her feet, bracing against the wall for a moment before moving towards the door where Ghost was. After laying down for so long, she had a profound limp, but Grizzly knew that the more she moved the sooner it would go away. At least that was the hope anyways. 

He obviously hears her, because she knew for a fact that no one came within a 50 mile radius of the behemoth without his knowledge. 

Despite that, he doesn’t make any move to acknowledge her. He just shifts slightly like he’s trying to get more comfortable, adjusting the grip he held on his rifle. Grizzly leans against the wall next to the doorframe, not wanting to sit down again because she doubted she’d be able to actually stand back up. 

“You should be sleeping,” the lieutenant tells her, his gruff voice breaking through the silence. “And keeping pressure off of that leg.”

Grizzly shrugs, looking blankly at the ceiling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Something unspoken transferred between them, and Ghost didn’t say anything further about it. There were nights where they’d been out in the field and had witnessed the restlessness that came from witnessing too many firefights and the like. She had her demons, and she could only imagine the things he was trying to process with the shit he’d been through. 

So, instead of tossing and turning all night long–unable to sleep, she had elected instead to get up and put her energy to use. 

“You can go rest,” Grizzly suggests to him, moving from near the doorway to standing next to him. “You’ve been up for hours already.”

Ghost doesn’t seem to agree with her reasoning, replying, “And so have you. Plus, you’re injured.”

She rolls her eyes. “Never stopped either of us before.”

They both fall silent again, noises from the woods around them permeating through the thin walls of the house. She remains standing beside him before the pain of standing becomes too much and she elects to sit down instead. She accepts the fact that now she would probably just stay in this same spot all night to avoid further aggravating her injury. 

‘It would’ve been better if you just didn’t move at all in that case,’ Grizzly thinks to herself before pushing the thought away. 

They sit in silence together, listening to a cricket somewhere in the house chirping away. It’s peaceful in the nighttime here despite the circumstances under which they arrived. It reminds her of before she joined the 141 when she was just a corpsman in the Navy being deployed with Marine Raiders. She can recall many a night in the field with her Marines that they would be camping out in their camp waiting for the next day when they’d go out in an assault. She’d be counting her supplies and checking over her medbag while her Marines joked and laughed amongst one another. More often than not, she’d end up joining in with little jabs of her own every now and then while she prepped. 

Part of her missed it, but she knew that at this point with her rank being what it was she would barely spend time actually in the field and mostly doing admin work. Since she was one of three enlisted on a team run by two officers, Grizzly was able to continue operating in the same arena as before. While the pay may not be the best or the ranking up wasn’t the greatest either, she still loved every moment of being able to go out every day for a new adventure. 

It was like a drug to her, inducing an adrenaline-laced high everytime her kit went on and they loaded up into the field. 

If it hadn’t been for Price finding her where she was stationed out in the desert of bum fuck only God knows where, she would’ve been stuck in an office doing stacks upon stacks of paperwork when she wasn’t handling the treatment of casualties coming into the camp. Thinking of Price further reminded her of the situation they were in. Grizzly finds herself wondering about the condition of her other teammates. 

Had they been captured? Were they just in hiding and waiting for a good time to make the journey to the safehouse? Had they contacted some sort of evac and were on their way to hers and Ghost’s location to get them the hell out of whatever kind of shitshow they’d all been forcefully rolled in?

She sits with her thoughts, not bothering to vocalize them since she has a feeling Ghost was likely doing the same albeit in a slightly more callous way. In a vain attempt to distract her train of thought away from worrying about the condition of her teammates, she starts to hum softly. It’s a country song she’d been listening to for days straight, not able to get enough of it. 

“Your mind is wandering, I take it.”

Grizzly’s attention is drawn to the lieutenant, taking a moment to process what he’d said before formulating a response. “Just a little. Nothing unusual for me.”

He makes a small hum in reply. “I’m very aware.”

“Speaking of wandering minds, you need to get some rest otherwise it’s going to be the both of us like that in the morning,” Grizzly tells him. “I know that I need to rest, but so do you. I’ve gone on missions in the past and functioned in much worse conditions than this.”

He doesn’t say anything, the silence stretching between them. It continues to carry on and on for several minutes before she’s convinced herself that he just won’t say anything back–<i>because of course she had to have a lieutenant like that</i>–when he actually acknowledges her request. 

He shifts so he can lay down somewhat comfortably. “Alright then, Grizzly. Trustin’ you to make sure we’re not both dead by the morning.”

“It already is morning LT,” Grizzly replies with a soft chuckle. “If my watch is anything to go by.”

She doesn’t have to look at him to know the man was likely rolling his eyes at her comment. 

“Wake me up if anything happens.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

00000

Several hours had gone by at this point, and Grizzly knew the sun was going to be rising soon. It was baffling to her how they had spent nearly 48 hours at this point in the same location when it should have been less than 12. It was all planned to be a get in and get the fuck out type of mission.

And yet.

There’s a rattling sound down the hall, which Grizzly assumes to be the fat raccoon they’d come across upon first arriving in the safehouse. She keeps listening for a few more moments, no longer hearing anything. Relaxing just enough to still remain vigilant but also so she could rest against the wall comfortably, she continues to mull over various thoughts in her brain. 

The rattling noise returns after a couple minutes, and with it come the soft whispers of a human voice.

Instantly, she’s on full alert with her rifle ready in her hands. Ghost is mere feet from where she’s sitting, so she kicks out one of her legs and jostles his chest. He wakes with little effort on her end. A brief thought questioning whether or not he had actually been sleeping all this time goes through her mind, but it’s shoved away in favor of worrying about what was going on right now. 

Albeit somewhat groggy from the look in his eyes, Ghost is already gearing up for a fight without her having to say anything. He rises to his feet and she follows suit–just at a slightly slower speed due to her injury. Heart beating in her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she posts up on the opposite side of the door frame than the lieutenant and waits for further orders.

“Wait.”

“Aye, sir.”

The door to enter the house creaks open down the hall and there’s a brief second where dread cuts through her belly. Just as soon as it comes it’s gone however. Grizzly locks in and readies herself for whatever is going to happen next, knowing that whoever just entered the safehouse may very well be there to kill the both of them. 

Footsteps. Three sets.

The very familiar sound of combat boots touching against the ground halts, leaving her with no clue as to where exactly the intruders were in the hallway. There’s a few beats of silence, leaving her to think something was about to happen, and then she hears a short whistle. A pause. Another short whistle. Another pause. Another short whistle. 

Ghost whistles back once, drawing it out slightly longer and it’s repeated back. 

Grizzly releases the breath she hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding in and is greeted with the unruly mohawk of her favorite Scot. Price and Gaz follow behind him. The hours of worry she’d been carrying for her teammates falls from her shoulders and the relief which comes with it is a welcome feeling. 

She doesn’t take long to relish in the emotion, knowing they all likely needed to be treated. Grizzly kneels by her pack, instructing the three other members of her team to sit and let her treat them. Despite each of them insisting there was nothing serious they were dealing with, she still conducts full head to toe exams as needed and treats what is seen fit. Price had fought her the hardest on it, but she had refused to listen and proceeded to treat a gunshot wound to his upper thigh. Upon finishing up with her treatment to them at a satisfactory level, Grizzly goes to assume her watch again. 

However Soap, the least injured of the three–which was immensely surprising to her–insisted on taking the watch instead. In pain and finally starting to feel exhaustion weighing down her bones, she doesn’t argue much and lays down in the back corner of the small room they were all posted up in. Within minutes, sleep claims her and welcomes its calming embrace with wide open arms. 

A/N: A big thank you to anyone who has stuck around to see the new release of this chapter after so long. Love ya'll!

[nervouslaughter05]

The Stars to Be Missed By a Lonely Moon Version 2: I'll crawl home to her

A/N: Those of you who voted on my Twitter and Tumblr many moons ago, here is the continuation to "The Stars to Comfort a Lonely Moon"! I am so excited to bring this to you-it was a joy to write! However, I will warn you, the vote of what kind of continuation this was going to be was split in half between happy and angsty soooooo...I did both...please don't be upset. Angst will be in the first version here, and the happy ending is in the second one (the one you're reading!). Also forewarning, there was no beta reader and I didn't proofread it very well considering my lack of sleep for the last couple months lol. Apologies for any grammatical errors or such. CW: aftermath of near death experience, some descriptions of injuries, angst WITH comfort Recommended listening is "Work Song" by Hozier. Socials: Art Insta: @timtoart05 Twitter: @Vegas719 Enjoy!

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her

Death was something Simon no longer wanted to believe was the reality of the world.

He didn’t want to believe he was mortal-that the blood in his veins was one day going to run out in a crimson stream.

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that right when life had become something worth living for, it was being taken away from him.

He wanted to believe in a universe where he could live and breathe and love.

Love the stars surrounding the moon.

Love the way they twinkled and gleamed in the low light.

Love the comfort they brought in fits of loneliness.

Love her.

“-hear us.”

A voice?

No. That wasn’t possible. He was dead. He’d died in that field with Katelyn in his arms. He’d felt as the air left his lungs.

Hadn’t he?

“He’s wakin’ up!”

“Boys, I’ll be back.”

The voices were very clearly there and it was that of his teammates. But they hadn’t been on the mission-hadn’t even known about it. Laswell had sent him and Katelyn out in the dead of the night without even getting the authorization from Price, knowing he’d never let them go.

With considerable effort, Simon opens his eyes. He immediately has to narrow them back to slits, however, because the stark white of the hospital room he was in was harsh against his sensitive eyes. As he slowly comes to, his senses also return. The sterile smell of the room filters into his nose, a very sudden difference from the copper that had been coating his senses back in the field. He hadn’t been able to tell who’s blood it had been that was filling the air so intensely, but if he had to guess it was likely Katelyn’s.

Katelyn.

He sits up suddenly, wincing with a grunt as his head spins and his back screams in agony.

“Woah! Easy, Lt.”

He recognizes the voice as Johnny’s immediately, and doesn’t shy away from the hands steadying him against his back.

“Thank God you’re alright, mate,” Gaz says, and he also steadies Simon. “Had us worried.”

He wasn’t concerned about himself though–only her. Always her.

“Where’s Katelyn?” he asks, his core straining to keep him in the upright position. “What happened t’ her?”

“Ghost, ye need t’ lay down-”

Sharp panic was rising in his gut. “Where is she?”

Johnny opens his mouth to try to say something else, but the door to the hospital room opens. In walks a doctor and Price, who looked relieved to see him conscious. They step into the room and right as the door is about to close, another figure steps into the room.

“Laswell,” Ghost says as a way of greeting to her, voice cool.

“Lieutenant Riley,” she replies, voice level as she takes in his injured form.

That he had because of her.

“How are you feeling?”

Ghost scoffs at the question, wincing at how the action stirred the pain in his back. He can feel Price’s gaze, sharp as ever, on him at the motion. He realizes his mask was still off, likely for the doctors to examine him easier. However, it also left him very vulnerable and he didn’t exactly appreciate that.

“About as well as a man who nearly died can feel, ma’am.”

She has the humility to look the smallest bit sorry at that comment, and he is once again reminded of how Grizzly wasn’t here with him.

“Have the boys told you about Kate-”

“Staff Sergeant Ard,” he cuts in, voice betraying the animosity he felt. “Refer to her as Sergeant Ard or Petty Officer First Class Ard if you refer to me by Lieutenant Riley.”

He didn’t feel she had the right to refer to Katelyn by her given name after the hell she’d put them through. Logically, in the back of his mind, he knows that they both agreed to the mission willingly. However, that part of his brain had long gone quiet. It had been completely mute ever since he’d crawled to her prone body in the grass.

Laswell takes the interruption in stride. “Have the boys told you about Staff Sergeant Ard?”

“No, not yet.”

She looks to Price now, as if seeking permission.

It makes that ugly thing in his chest curl its lip and snarl.

The fact she was seeking permission from his captain now after she’d sent him and Katelyn into a hot zone without it was maddening.

“I’ll relay the news,” Price replies, voice low and the lieutenant can tell what he’d just thought isn’t too far from the mind of his captain. “I believe you mentioned having a debrief to get to?”

Laswell nods her head in farewell, and exits the room without receiving anything back from the other three members of the 141.

When the door closes, the attention returns to him. Ghost suddenly wishes Laswell was still in the room to avoid the piercing gazes of the three other men in the room. He pushes through, knowing he needed to deal with it to be able to find out where Katelyn was being held. Why she wasn’t in the same room as him was confusing considering they had been on the same mission, but he doesn’t let that deter him.

“Where is she?” he asks, slowly moving to sit more upright.

“Ghost,” Price says carefully, still standing away from his bed, unlike Gaz and Johnny who flanked him on either side. “When the two of you came in she was in critical condition. Hardly breathin’ at all. She’d lost so much blood that it was a miracle she made it back to the base alive.”

The ugly thing in his chest begins to stir again, shifting about in irritation.

“The doctors operated on her for nearly eight hours, trying to repair the damage to her internal organs and back. The bullet nearly severed her spinal cord.”

Dread began to unfurl in his gut, spilling up into his throat as it began to close.

“She’s down the hall,” his captain tells him, voice somber. “However-”

Ghost doesn’t hear anything else. Cotton and rushing water fills his ears, drowning out every other sound. Without comprehending the pain his body was in–it was mostly gone thanks to the painkillers anyways–he was up and out of the bed. The door slamming against the wall from the force with which he shoved it open was a dull thump in his ears.

He had to see his Grizzly. He had to see his Katelyn. He had to see his stars.

Even if the light was gone from them for good.

There was hardly any medical personnel in the hallway, a singular nurse ducking into a room housing another patient. Ghost scans the labels on the doors, searching for any indication of where she was. He barely manages to catch it and immediately turns on the door, pushing it open with as much force as what he used on the door for his own room.

There, on the bed, was Grizzly.

His throat closes at the sight of her, beautiful even in her motionless state. She looked peaceful, his Katelyn, despite the different tubes connected to her and the wires attached to the heart monitor beeping steadily-

Wait.

In the seconds Ghost had stood in her room taking her in, the woman stirred. With a groan she opened one eye, the other flying open at the sight of him. He probably looked a right mess, the lack of his mask leaving his black smeared eyes and tousled hair in full view.

He moves on instinct, collapsing onto the bed and pulling her close.

She presses into him, hands clutching at his shirt.

He tugs her closer by his hold around her waist, tucking her into his chest.

“Simon,” she breathes, her lips so agonizingly close to his own. “Oh Simon.”

“Katelyn,” he replies, closing the distance between them.

Despite any fatigue or pain either of them should be feeling, they come together fiercely. One of his hands was on the back of her head as they kissed, the other around her lower back. Her arms were thrown around his neck and she held him like a lifeline.

There's a thump and a gasp from the hallway, but neither of them pay it much attention since whoever had been surprised didn't intrude. Simon would later find himself thanking Price for moving Johnny away from the room before he could shout out something. For now, however, the two of them press close into one another with every ounce of passion they could.

“My Katelyn,” he growls into the kiss. “Death can’t have you.”

She presses into him, responding in kind. “Never. Only you can have me.”

Calming down a bit after seeing one another again for the first time in only God knows how long–Simon suspected the two of them had both been in some sort of coma state–the kiss begins to slow. The previous urgency was gone, being replaced with a desire to just feel one another. Simon was convinced this was some sort of cruel dream fate had decided he was to have, and that he’d wake up and hear the words “She’s gone”.

But he doesn’t wake up, and the words never come.

Instead, he’s here with her in this small med ward bed hardly big enough to fit the two of them.

He couldn’t ask for anything better honestly.

Simon pulls back a bit, receiving her peck to his crooked nose with a soft chuckle. He shifts in the bed, situating himself against the backrest with her nestled into his side. She curls into his form, a soft sigh leaving her lips.

One hand grasping his, she pulls herself up a little more, the other slipping to his cheek and leaning her forehead against his own. He supports the back of her head gently, breathing in the same air as her. She scoots closer, and he tucks her into his chest.

—-------------

Meeting her family was nerve wracking to say the least.

Ghost had already met her father before–they’d holed up in his place in Alaska at one point–but he’d never met her mother or any of her brothers. Her mother was an…interesting woman to say the least. She came draped on the arm of her new husband–he found out from Katelyn they’d gotten married less than a year after her parents had divorced nearly fifteen years prior–and was instantly bombarding him with questions about how he treated Katelyn and when they were going to settle down and when was the baby going to be born and-

“Mother,” Katelyn ground out, voice strangled. “A baby isn’t in the picture yet. Calm down.”

She had simply shrugged and wandered off with her husband.

The brothers were an amusing bunch, all except for the youngest, Andrew, reminding him heavily of Soap. Watching her interact with the eldest, Caleb was sweet, reminding him of how he and Tommy used to be together. The twins brought down hell wherever they went, and Ghost found himself very quickly being brought amusement from their antics. Caleb’s daughter, Sadie, took a liking to Ghost very quickly. If she wasn’t in the arms of her mother or Katelyn, she insisted on being on him somehow.

It was like she was a squirrel and Ghost a tree she felt the intense need to climb all the time.

She made him think of his little nephew, and having her around made things ten times easier.

She didn’t question the scars, poking them once and then focusing on his tattoos with awe. Sadie had insisted on coloring them in, making Katelyn laugh so loudly he couldn’t do anything but oblige. He’d do anything for that woman’s smile and laugh.

Later that night, they stood on the balcony of the big home her father had obtained for the boys, themselves, and him to stay in for the next week and a half. Overlooking the beautiful Alaskan woods, Simon stood beside Katelyn with his arm around her waist. She leans into him, sighing happily.

“I told you,” she says out of the blue.

He looks down at her. “Hm?”

“The moon and stars-they can’t be separated.”

Simon grins down at her and then looks up at the night sky, watching the stars and the moon twinkling together.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I guess you’re right.”

The darkness surrounds them, folding around them as a blanket of night.

He has no need to fear it–not anymore–not with her beside him.

It’s a welcome thing, and whenever the time arises for death to try and separate the moon from the stars again, there will be hell to pay.

[nervouslaughter05]

The Stars to Be Missed By a Lonely Moon Version 1: "No grave can hold my body down"

A/N: Those of you who voted on my Twitter and Tumblr many moons ago, here is the continuation to "The Stars to Comfort a Lonely Moon"! I am so excited to bring this to you-it was a joy to write! However, I will warn you, the vote of what kind of continuation this was going to be was split in half between happy and angsty soooooo...I did both...please don't be upset. Angst will be in the first version here, and the happy ending is in the second one here. Also forewarning, there was no beta reader and I didn't proofread it very well considering my lack of sleep for the last couple months lol. Apologies for any grammatical errors or such.

CW: main character death, some descriptions of death, heavy topic

Recommended listening is "Work Song" by Hozier. Socials: Art Insta: @timtoart05 Twitter: @Vegas719

Enjoy!

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her

Death was something Simon no longer wanted to believe was the reality of the world.

He didn’t want to believe he was mortal-that the blood in his veins was one day going to run out in a crimson stream.

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that right when life had become something worth living for, it was being taken away from him.

He wanted to believe in a universe where he could live and breathe and love.

Love the stars surrounding the moon.

Love the way they twinkled and gleamed in the low light.

Love the comfort they brought in fits of loneliness.

Love her.

“-hear us.”

A voice?

No. That wasn’t possible. He was dead. He’d died in that field with Katelyn in his arms. He’d felt as the air left his lungs.

Hadn’t he?

“He’s wakin’ up!”

“Boys, I’ll be back.”

The voices were very clearly there and it was that of his teammates. But they hadn’t been on the mission-hadn’t even known about it. Laswell had sent him and Katelyn out in the dead of the night without even getting the authorization from Price, knowing he’d never let them go.

With considerable effort, Simon opens his eyes. He immediately has to narrow them back to slits, however, because the stark white of the hospital room he was in was harsh against his sensitive eyes. As he slowly comes to, his senses also return. The sterile smell of the room filters into his nose, a very sudden difference from the copper that had been coating his senses back in the field. He hadn’t been able to tell who’s blood it had been that was filling the air so intensely, but if he had to guess it was likely Katelyn’s.

Katelyn.

He sits up suddenly, wincing with a grunt as his head spins and his back screams in agony.

“Woah! Easy, Lt.”

He recognizes the voice as Johnny’s immediately, and doesn’t shy away from the hands steadying him against his back.

“Thank God you’re alright, mate,” Gaz says, and he also steadies Simon. “Had us worried.”

He wasn’t concerned about himself though–only her. Always her.

“Where’s Katelyn?” he asks, his core straining to keep him in the upright position. “What happened t’ her?”

“Ghost, ye need t’ lay down-”

Sharp panic was rising in his gut. “Where is she?”

Johnny opens his mouth to try to say something else, but the door to the hospital room opens. In walks a doctor and Price, who looked relieved to see him conscious. They step into the room and right as the door is about to close, another figure steps into the room.

“Laswell,” Ghost says as a way of greeting to her, voice cool.

“Lieutenant Riley,” she replies, voice level as she takes in his injured form.

That he had because of her.

“How are you feeling?”

Ghost scoffs at the question, wincing at how the action stirred the pain in his back. He can feel Price’s gaze, sharp as ever, on him at the motion. He realizes his mask was still off, likely for the doctors to examine him easier. However, it also left him very vulnerable and he didn’t exactly appreciate that.

“About as well as a man who nearly died can feel, ma’am.”

She has the humility to look the smallest bit sorry at that comment, and he is once again reminded of how Grizzly wasn’t here with him.

“Have the boys told you about Kate-”

“Staff Sergeant Ard,” he cuts in, voice betraying the animosity he felt. “Refer to her as Sergeant Ard or Petty Officer First Class Ard if you refer to me by Lieutenant Riley.”

He didn’t feel she had the right to refer to Katelyn by her given name after the hell she’d put them through. Logically, in the back of his mind, he knows that they both agreed to the mission willingly. However, that part of his brain had long gone quiet. It had been completely mute ever since he’d crawled to her prone body in the grass.

Laswell takes the interruption in stride. “Have the boys told you about Staff Sergeant Ard?”

“No, not yet.”

She looks to Price now, as if seeking permission.

It makes that ugly thing in his chest curl its lip and snarl.

The fact she was seeking permission from his captain now after she’d sent him and Katelyn into a hot zone without it was maddening.

“I’ll relay the news,” Price replies, voice low and the lieutenant can tell what he’d just thought isn’t too far from the mind of his captain. “I believe you mentioned having a debrief to get to?”

Laswell nods her head in farewell, and exits the room without receiving anything back from the other three members of the 141.

When the door closes, the attention returns to him. Ghost suddenly wishes Laswell was still in the room to avoid the piercing gazes of the three other men in the room. He pushes through, knowing he needed to deal with it to be able to find out where Katelyn was being held. Why she wasn’t in the same room as him was confusing considering they had been on the same mission, but he doesn’t let that deter him.

“Where is she?” he asks, slowly moving to sit more upright.

“Ghost,” Price says carefully, still standing away from his bed, unlike Gaz and Johnny who flanked him on either side. “When the two of you came in she was in critical condition. Hardly breathin’ at all. She’d lost so much blood that it was a miracle she made it back to the base alive.”

The ugly thing in his chest begins to stir again, shifting about in irritation.

“The doctors operated on her for nearly eight hours, trying to repair the damage to her internal organs and back. The bullet nearly severed her spinal cord.”

Dread began to unfurl in his gut, spilling up into his throat as it began to close.

“She’s down the hall,” his captain tells him, voice somber. “I’m sorry, Simon. She’s gone.”

Ghost couldn’t breathe.

“She didn’t go without a fight.”

“Simon,” Katelyn had breathed against his lips, fingers tangled in his hair. “I will always be there to make sure you can shine.”

He had chuckled at that into the kiss, the press of her lips against his hot and wet and messy.

He sought to claim and mark, wreak havoc and worship this altar of a body beneath him.

Ghost had never been one for religion, but suddenly he found himself like a man without purpose suddenly having found it in the form of a goddess appearing to him. She was his light-the one banishing away his mortality and carving a path for him to ascend into the heavens. She was bringing back Simon.

“If you want to pay your respects, you’re able to go visit the body. None of us have gone yet.”

Their bodies had molded together, a fire wholly consuming enveloping them in its embrace.

She sought to heal and mend, spread her love and give him a place to land upon when the walls came crashing down.

“Is that so?” he had questioned, lips drifting down to her jaw. “The moon outshines the stars at times.”

Katelyn simply scoffed, tugging his head up roughly so they made eye contact.

“It would be too dark without the stars regardless,” she replies, and their lips meet again in the increasingly familiar dance they’d found themselves in.

“I know you two were close, so I understand if you’re not ready yet.”

Simon’s body moves above hers, hands grasping at her hips, her waist, her back. She responds in kind, digging her fingers into his shoulders, his biceps, his hair. They were joined into one body now, now a continuous form at the point an outsider would not be able to tell where one began and another ended.

They sought to build and grow, drown one another in emotion and possession to show the world they’d found a home in one another.

It was a night Simon had never wanted to forget. He wanted it inscribed behind his eyelids, into his brain. The feeling of her against him–beneath, on top, next to–was more intoxicating than any drug or hard liquor ever to grace his senses.

His brain had been a broken record of KatelynKatelynKatelynKatelynKatelyn.

“I’m so sorry, son.”

Ghost felt completely hollow, like the small part of him still human had been torn from his chest. And, he supposed it had. After all, she had been what was keeping him alive in the end, was what had been the final key needed to unlock the chest in his heart holding Simon.

Beside the hollowness an anger begins to build. He had accepted his fate in that field with her heavy body in his arms knowing they’d be together in whatever was next. The universe was cruel, stripping away yet another thing from him in a burst of ash and fire. It was common knowledge for anyone who’d spent any length of time watching the two of them work together that if one left, the other would follow.

They were joined souls, fighting for their next breath so long as the other did the same.

They were two pieces fit together, leaving the puzzle of their lives incomplete without their unity.

They were what kept one another sane, chasing away the demons and the darkness for a shot at tranquility.

Now, he was a husk of a man.

He distantly felt arms around him, and despite it feeling wrong – because it wasn’t her – he allows for it to happen. He knows it’s not just for him but also them. So, he lets them hold onto him.

Simon was slowly starting to unravel at the edges, Ghost enveloping him more and more until the scarred face was gone and replaced with a skull over scratchy fabric.

—------------------

The funeral was awful.

They’d flown Katelyn’s body back to the States where she’d been born, hosting a service in Alaska where her father still lived. There, in the cold dark earth, she was laid to rest. At least, the coffin was laid to rest. Her ashes had been divided up between her parents, siblings, and–albeit reluctantly–Ghost.

Her father had recognized him almost instantly when he’d opened the door, and the smile he bore at seeing himself and Price faded almost instantly.

Being former military, he knew what the folded up American flag with Katelyn’s tags on the top being held in Ghost’s arms meant. He’d been completely silent, beckoning them inside and collapsing onto the couch. Price had settled beside his old friend, a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Ghost had stood off to the side, still clutching the American flag like it was a lifeline. Her tags glinted in the light, winking at him like she would constantly.

A month later, the entire team had gathered together around her coffin and given her the proper send-off, Ghost being the one to pound the insignia of the United States Navy into the hard surface. The 141, Laswell and her wife, Nikolai, and around forty Marines made up the military side of the funeral. The Marines were ones who had all been involved with her somehow before she’d transferred to the 141 and left the States, and had naturally all wanted to be there upon hearing news of her death. There were supposedly dozens more, all soldiers who remembered the fierce corpsman who’d come in guns blazing to save them in the middle of a warzone or had managed to bring men a foot taller than her down to their knees in submission.

Her parents, her mother’s new husband, siblings, and countless other family members were all in attendance. They all approached him upon seeing his imposing form, offering looks of sympathy and hugs he accepted only out of courtesy. Apparently Katelyn had spoken about him the most out of all the members on the team, touting the skills of a man who “is way more quiet than a guy his size should be”. Her father was the only one who didn’t give a look of sympathy and instead stood silently by him, wearing his old dress uniform.

The service had been heartfelt, Katelyn’s mother descending into a sobbing mess by the end of it. Katelyn’s brothers all were the hardest to watch, her older brother, Caleb, breaking down knowing his little sister was gone. If he remembered correctly, the two of them were less than a year apart and were the closest out of the bunch. The twins, Rory and Fergus, were both in utter shock with silent tears running down their faces. The youngest, Andrew, stood stone-faced, dressed in his own dress uniform of the Army. Her father was emotionless the entire time, the only indication of his grief being the silent tears rolling down his cheeks like the twins.

When it was over, Katelyn’s mother had stormed up to him and screamed at him for not getting her out of the military world. She’d wanted her only daughter to settle down and become a good wife, and blamed Ghost for not having her do that. She only lasted a short couple minutes in her outburst before she collapsed into him, being removed gently from his chest by Caleb.

Katelyn’s mother’s words rolled off his back, his heart far too numb to comprehend the full depth of what she meant.

It’s only when he’s alone by her tombstone several days later that he understands it.

He’d had a chance to pull Katelyn away from the military world, settle down with her. But he hadn’t. He’d delayed time and time again with her, keeping them at the stage where there wasn’t a full commitment yet.

Were it not for his own selfish desire to keep her in his sights at all times, she could’ve been alive.

He wouldn’t have a necklace holding her ashes.

The 141 would still have their Mama Bear.

Ghost feels a darkness coming over him, so unlike what he had felt in that field holding Katelyn close to his chest.

He doesn’t fear it–he was too numb anymore–but for another reason.

It crashes over him, suffocating and brutal, a reminder of how the moon would now shine alone in the night sky.

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men Chapter 4: Saved by a Ghost

A/N: Here it is! Chapter 4!!!

Finally more Ghost appearances here! MAH BOIIIIIIIIII

As always CW: canon-typical violence, blood and injury, nothing is explicitly described, Grizzly and Co. kill people, language

Come yell at me on Twitter @vegas719 and my art insta @timetoart05

Masterlist

Grizzly sucks in a sharp breath, reacting almost instantly. Rifle still slung over her back from its position against the ground, she shoves the barrel up and away with enough force to make the man stumble. She scrambles from the hollow, dodging to the side to avoid a bullet to the gut and instead gets grazed. Ignoring the spike of pain, she keeps moving. She slings the rifle over her back to gain mobility and dives at his torso, sending them both toppling to the ground. 

They wrestle in the dirt, each of them trying to subdue the other. 

He was taller than her by almost four or so inches and built bigger as well, meaning if she got pinned it was basically a guaranteed game over. So she fights, and she fights with a passion to stop that from happening. When she knocked him over, the pistol had fallen from his grasp and was now lying menacingly in the grass just a couple feet away. He reaches for it and the moment of distraction while she has him pinned down with her knees against his arms is enough for their positions to switch. 

He straddles her chest, trapping her legs beneath him while one arm is twisted behind her back and pressed against the ground while he holds her other wrist in his firm hold. 

‘No!’ Grizzly thinks, struggling in his hold. ‘I can’t go out-not like this!’

A hand closes around her throat and she struggles to breathe through the increasing pressure against her windpipe. The edges of her vision are starting to go dark. She fights against the panic rising in her throat, trying to quickly think of a way to make it out of this alive. In her struggle, the arm pinned behind her back had been able to slip further out. Getting an idea, she gradually stops struggling, trying to make it seem like the lack of oxygen was making her pass out–not that she wasn’t close to that point. He buys the act, loosening his grip enough for her to move. 

She grabs at the pistol strapped to her right thigh, pulling it out and not wasting a moment before she’s putting a bullet between his ribs. 

He rolls off, clutching at his side while reaching for his own pistol. Grizzly fires a shot at his head, the bullet dropping him hunched over on the ground, dead. She breathes heavily, chest heaving up and down as she lowers the pistol. Now hyper aware of her surroundings, she puts the pistol away and grabs her rifle again, trudging further into the undergrowth. 

She raises the hand not pressing against her side to her neck, fingers brushing against bare skin where her throat mic was supposed to be. 

“Shit” Grizzly curses, glancing behind her while wondering when or how she had lost the com unit. 

She realizes it must’ve been when that guy had grabbed her throat and then fallen over since he basically clawed into the skin there. He had probably yanked it off and she’d been too hyped up on adrenaline and the thought of survival to even think to check. Knowing the team had no way of contacting her and vice versa digs the pit of anxiety deeper in her gut, and she resolves to get to the safehouse as quickly as possible. 

The sun was beginning to rise now, rays of light filtering through the treetops. 

As the adrenaline wears off, the pain from the bullet graze on her leg and side and the bruises she’d gotten in the fight begins to surface. She ignores the pain, continuing to move with her rifle in hand since she didn’t know if there were any other hidden assailants. If she sat down to rest it would leave her a target as she dressed her wounds, so she deemed it not worth it for the time being. 

Every rustling leaf and animal cry had her on edge, and it wasn’t long before the exhaustion began to get to her. 

Despite knowing the danger of stopping, Grizzly also knew that if she didn’t stop soon, there was a higher risk of her falling or hurting herself from exhaustion. She finds a spot to hide herself in, tucked away in a bunch of rocks and overgrown tree roots so that if someone walked by they wouldn’t immediately see her. She sets about cleaning and doing some quick stitches on the grazes, finishing it off with a wad of cotton and some gauze to hold it in place. Handling the one on her side is much more difficult and she has to bite back a whine several times, but she still gets it done.

The whole time she remains alert, listening for anyone who could be a danger. 

She hears the hushed voices of a couple of men, and by the sound of it they were heading right for her hiding spot. Cursing internally, Grizzly firmly grasps her rifle, dropping the used medical materials carelessly on the ground. The men keep heading her way, and she’s able to pick out what they were saying a little better than before.

“Gotta find the woman. You take the doc and those dumbasses are like little fawns just waiting to be shot.”

A chuckle. “Should make sure she pays kindly for taking out Tanem like she did.”

“Agreed.”

She holds her breath, shifting slowly into a more combat ready position so that when they came she was prepared. The movement must have revealed her position somehow, because a warning shot is fired in her direction, hitting a root just a few inches to the left of her face. It catches her off guard, but she stills, entire body tense. There’s a beat of silence as the footsteps suddenly still, and she tries to figure out where the men were. 

Until one of them peeks right into the place she’d tucked herself into with a rifle. 

Grizzly aims her own rifle up, but right before she has a chance to fire the man drops to the ground with a thump. There’s a sharp yell of alarm from his companion that’s suddenly cut off with a choked gurgle. She stills again, praying that this wasn’t someone she needed to be worried about. 

“Grizzly?”

The Manchester accent alerts her to who it was immediately, and she quickly hurries from the spot she’d tucked herself into. The sight before her is one she takes in gratefully, trotting to her teammate. His eyes rake over her, likely taking in the bandages hastily wrapped around her thigh and the blood stain on her shirt. 

“Injured?” he asks, watching as she zips up her med kit and slings it back over her front. 

She looks up at him. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And your throat?”

“Ah,” Grizzly replies, swallowing and feeling a spike of pain from the action. “Encountered a hostile while hiding out. Thought it’d be a good idea to try and choke me out. That’s how I lost my mic. What about you? Encounter anything?”

He hesitates a moment, seeming to deliberate whether or not he should answer her. When she fixes him with a hard stare, he simply huffs and nods once–likely because he knew she wouldn’t stop pestering him until she got the chance to look it over. 

“How serious?” she asks, already unzipping her pack and checking over the remaining materials she had. 

“Not enough to stop.”

Grizzly’s head snaps up so her eyes meet his. “Ghost-”

He cuts her off. “We need to move.”

“Lieutenant,” she insists, watching him collect his knives and any spare ammo from the men. “If you are seriously injured I need to treat you. Price is gonna have my head if I bring you to him dead.”

He makes that scoffing huff noise. “And he’d ‘ave mine if it was reversed for ya. Now tha’ we’ve established this, let's move.” 

Grizzly sighs, zipping up her pack as he radioes in to Price to confirm he’d found her and they were heading to the safehouse. She can’t hear any of the other’s responses, but based on the way Ghost rolls his eyes while they walk she can assume Soap is talking. She watches their surroundings, rifle grasped firmly in her hands. He falls silent after signing off, and they trot along in silence after that. 

It reminds her of when the two of them first met back when she was still with the Raiders–how he was dead silent save for when giving orders and she was the only one who didn’t try to engage in a conversation with him. At the time, she’d recognized he wasn’t a small talk kind of person and thus hadn’t tried. As they continued to work together, she gradually began to try to interact in small ways. Eventually, they were able to hold entire conversations, but that only came about as the result of a near death experience in which she had just torn into a corporal for not watching their backs as he needed to.

Part of her misses those days when she was a marine, not having to worry about anything more pressing than ensuring her soldiers stayed alive long enough to fight another day and be able to return home to their families in one piece. When she was still bright-eyed and hopeful, thinking that enlisting right out of high school was the best idea one could ever have. When she hadn’t yet known the feeling of taking someone else’s life or having them bleed out in her grasp as she tried desperately to save them.

She wonders faintly if she’ll die in the field someday, laid out in the middle of nowhere with a bullet or a knife lodged in her skin. 

She gets tugged back by the bitch strap of her vest, not harshly but firm enough to make her stumble a bit. As she turns to Ghost to ask what the hell he was doing, he simply tugs her more firmly as he picks up his pace, veering away from the normal path and onto a more rough one. Grizzly follows as quickly as she can, forcing through the pain in her leg from the sudden change in pace. 

Just as she’s getting used to the pace and direction they’re heading, she gets tugged by her bitch strap again and this time is also shoved down. Before she can react in a violent manner, she catches sight of the skull mask and stills. He squeezes into the hollow, his back to her as they settle in.

“You better have a good excuse for this,” she whispers, trying not to squirm in the uncomfortable spot he’d forced them both into. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to assume my charm was too much for you to keep your composure.”

“Hush” Ghost hisses back, sliding a gloved hand over her mouth right as she opens it to give a snappy reply.

She listens to him, ears perked intently for any noise. If he had decided to shove them both down into this hiding spot instead of fighting then there must have been something dangerous nearby. Grizzly leans back as far as she can in the cramped space, pulling him back with her. His hand falls from over her mouth, bracing against the dirt above their heads. 

As she’s controlling her breathing, that’s when she realizes just how <i>close</i> they are to one another. She was tucked against his side, beneath the arm with the hand braced to the ceiling. His legs were over her own while one arm was in a position similar to the one he was holding and the other was curled over her rifle. Subconsciously she found herself matching his breathing, calming the fierce racing of her heart. 

The silence eats at her little by little, the urge to squirm–to run away from whatever the threat was–increasing with each passing minute. Ghost must have sensed her rising worry, because she feels a gloved hand press gentle against her nape. She chances a quick look at him, catching him with his eyes still trained straight ahead. 

“Ghost-”

A branch snaps, and she tightens the grip on her rifle. Footsteps follow, a low voice grumbling irritably. Grizzly fights the urge to jump out and face the approaching individual just to get the interaction over with. 

“Easy now,” Ghost murmurs just barely loud enough for her to hear, so close she could faintly feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

She doesn’t look at him, giving a simple nod of her head and waiting. 

He shifts slowly, and it’s only after a solid twenty seconds that she realizes he’s getting one of his knives. The footsteps grow closer, the grumbling becoming more clear. The accent is American, sounding like whoever was talking had a horrible cold–probably from somewhere on the East Coast–and she tenses up. 

The current position they had gotten themselves into wasn’t ideal for facing a threat, but considering Ghost could practically throw his knives blind, this wasn't a concern for her. A pair of boots come into view about two feet from her face, stopping for a moment and speaking into the open air–talking in some com system maybe?-before moving on. The breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding is released slowly, tension bleeding slightly from her shoulders. 

They wait a few more minutes, listening for any other noise before even considering crawling out. Ghost clambers out first, ready to fight anything that may be outside while she slowly uncurls herself from the cramped position she had taken while he was inside the hollow with her. When he doesn’t drop down injured or make any sudden moves to indicate an enemy being present, she climbs out. Ghost offers a hand, something she’s grateful for  considering her thigh and side were burning now, and she takes it. 

Once she’s out, he starts leading them back in the direction of the safehouse, staying away from the path. He radios in to Price again, alerting him there were potential hostiles in the area and to keep an eye out. Grizzly stays alert the entire walk, trying to keep pace with her lieutenant and ignoring the pain she was in. 

They reach the metal fence when the sun was nearly fully risen in the sky, Grizzly needing some assistance to clear it because of her injuries.  Ghost didn’t seem to have any trouble getting over, but then again he also was a behemoth of a man who was used to going days without getting medical care besides however he treated himself. 

By the time they were around a quarter of the way to the safehouse, that’s when she really notices her adrenaline running out and the pain fully setting in. By half she was nearly limping and just barely managing to keep pace with Ghost. By three quarters of the way, Grizzly was gritting her teeth against the pain. For the final quarter, she was ready to collapse, about to do so right as the safehouse came into view. 

“Thank fuck,” she says, pausing for a moment to gather herself before proceeding further. 

“Don’t thank anything yet,” Ghost tells her, looking even more on edge than he did before the safehouse came into sight. “We ‘ave no way o’ knowin’ who or what’s in there.”

She’s reminded of the fact none of the others had radioed in to confirm arriving at the safehouse, mostly because Price had declared them to go basically dark unless deemed absolutely necessary once she and Ghost had joined up. It could be anyone inside those walls. The thought of what the two of them might find inside is enough to inspire her fight instinct. 

Ghost leads the way in, body partially shielding her own as she watches the back. 

They make their way through the safehouse, thoroughly searching every hiding spot they could think of. They make it back to the front door, and Grizzly finally lets her guard down a little. There’s a noise to their left. She and Ghost spin with rifles raised just to see a raccoon had gotten in and knocked something over. 

The creature stares at them with bored, beady, black eyes and then runs away to another part of the safehouse. 

“It’s clear,” Ghost says, going to the door and locking it. 

She sits down on a chair, settling with a wince as the movement aggravates the graze on her thigh and the bruises to her sides. “What about the others?” she asks, motioning to the now locked door. “What if they need in?”

“They’ll figure something out. For now, we prioritize ourselves,” the lieutenant replies, fixing her with a hard look. “Understood?”

Grizzly nods. “Understood.”

[nervouslaughter05]

Ship Ask Game - The Basics

Learn about each others writings, ocs, and so much more.

For this ask game, choose a pairing and a number, and send an ask to the writer who reblogged this. Remember, be polite!

1. Describe their first date.

2. Who wakes up early/Who sleeps in late?

3. What was their first impression of each other?

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

5. Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

7. How often do they say “I love you”?

8. What do they love most about the other? Why?

9. What do they dislike most about the other? Why?

10. Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?

11. How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?

12. Do they have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are they fairly independent?

13. How do they keep in contact when they’re apart? Do they write letters, talk on the phone, or simply wait out the time?

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

15. What songs remind you of their relationship?

16. Would they ever get matching tattoos? If yes, what would these look like?

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

25. Do they share a room/house? If so, what does it look like and how does it compliment their personalities?

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

28. Who’s the better chef? Do they cook for the other?

29. Describe their nighttime routine.

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

31. Do they often go out on dates? What are these like?

32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them?

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

34. Do they have any inside jokes?

35. Is their relationship a secret? If so, why?

36. How do they feel about having kids? Are they in agreement?

37. Who’s more emotionally sensitive/cries more often?

38. Who’s got a quicker temper?

39. When and how did they admit that they loved each other? If they haven’t yet, why?

40. Do they have any regrets in their relationship?

41. What would they do if they lost the other?

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

43. If they picked out outfits for each other, what would they look like?

44. Do they cuddle often? Why or why not?

45. How do they support each other? How do they rely on each others support?

46. Do they consider their relationship casual or serious? Is the answer different depending on who you ask? Why?

47. Do they sleep beside each other? Why or why not?

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

49. Do they keep secrets from each other?

50. Would they ever break up? If so, why? Who would handle the breakup better?

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men Chapter 3: Mission Compromised

A/N: Here's Chapter 3! Sorry that it's been a hot minute since I last posted. This chapter is slightly longer than the previous to make up for the wait. :)

As always, please heed the content warnings and enjoy!

CW: canon violence, use of guns, killing (nothing is explicitly described), dead bodies (just mentioned they are there), blood, mention of injury, language

Masterlist

“All teams, this is Bravo 1. How copy?”

Price grasps the radio on his chest. “In position. What’s your status?”

She hears shuffling on the coms, probably from Ghost settling more comfortably. “In position. Move when you’re ready. I’ll have ya in my sights.”

Grizzly was sitting on a large rock, checking over her rifle and med kit while the others did similar things. She looks back to Price, rising to her feet as the other team gears up to go. The men all chat quietly, their Captain wrangling them together in formation. 

“Yer sniper ‘as this handled?” the other Captain–she recalls faintly that his last name was Garder–questions, a hint of unease in his tone. 

Price nods, and she has to fight against the frown wanting to slip onto her face at the implication Ghost was anything but capable. 

“More than,” her Captain replies easily, but she can see from the way his jaw twitched after he spoke he was feeling similar to her. “Ghost is the best in the field. He’s saved our arses many times before.”

“And yer medic?”

“What about me?” she asks, speaking for herself, crossing her arms over the bulletproof-vest. 

“Can ya handle as many men as there are in this group?” he inquires, the men behind him now watching the interaction with interest. 

Grizzly raises an eyebrow. “I used to be part of the marine corps before joining the 141. I watched on average 20 men at a time before joining the Raiders. I think I can handle half that.”

The man nods, satisfied with the answer. “Good. Trustin’ ya ta keep ‘s ‘live then, lass.”

She relaxes, feeling the tension that had built in her shoulders without her realizing it vanishing. It was nice to be treated as an equal for once. “Won’t do anything less, Captain.”

With a nod, he turns away to his men, jerking his head to the clearing and starting to walk. His team follows behind him, all five together slinking away through the tall grass. They watch the other team leave, waiting until they vanish from sight before Price waves them out. 

Gaz falls in behind Price, Soap and then herself following behind the two. They move single file through the grass in the clearing, using the shrubbery to their advantage. A metal fence looms ahead of them, lanterns planted on top of the fence posts. The gate to enter was further to their right, locked firmly and watched by guards. There’s no cameras however, and each of them clamber up and over without any issue. 

They drop down on the other side by a dead body, and Grizzly already knows it was Ghost’s handiwork from when he’d hopped the fence earlier to get inside and set up a position for himself. 

There’s heavy underbrush near the fence–about ten feet away–the four of them use as cover to slink closer to the warehouse. 

There are three heat signatures ahead, all standing in front of the warehouse and guarding the only door above ground leading inside. They were approaching from the east side of the building, the face of the warehouse facing away from them. That meant the four men at the door didn’t see them coming, focusing on the pathway leading to the door. 

“Ghost,” Price murmurs into the coms, gaining a gruff affirmation a second later. 

One of the men breaks away from the other three, walking around the western side of the warehouse. 

“Target acquired.” 

Price gives him the order to fire, and a second later Ghost is radioing back in to confirm the kill. 

“Further orders, Price?” their Lieutenant asks, and she knows he was probably already training his sights on one of the other men. 

Grizzly catches how Price shakes his head in response. “We’ve got it from ‘ere. Jus’ watch our backs, Ghost.”

Gaz and Soap both creep forward, their forms illuminated in the soft yellow light of the lanterns. 

“Watch this LT,” Soap says, the coms picking it up. 

“Fucking hell.”

Gaz is in front of Soap, moving quickly around the side of the building and shooting one of the men guarding the front with a silenced pistol. Soap moves quickly, dashing around the other sergeant and knifing the other man. She and Price jog to the front, weapons at the ready should anyone else decide to join the party. 

“This is Bravo 6 to all Delta. How copy?” Price says, waiting for the response of the other team. 

After a moment, Captain Garder responds, “In position. Where are ya?”

“Front of the warehouse.”

“Move when ready. My team is heading in.”

“Captain,” Gaz says, waiting for Price’s order. “What’s your call?” 

“Move in.”

Soap grasps the handle, yanking open the door enough for each of them to slip inside with their weapons raised. There’s about ten men in the room they just entered, each of them holding military grade weaponry to rival that of Grizzly and her team. They’re all dispatched in seconds, falling to the ground with blood pouring from various fatal wounds. Price leads them further into the warehouse, rooms being cleared as they move. Aside from the group they encountered right at the entrance, they haven’t come across anyone else. They remained in contact with the other team, confirming cleared rooms and any goods they confirmed possession of.

Something felt off, but Grizzly didn’t know what yet.

“Captain,” Price says, speaking into his com unit during a moment of silence. “Moving towards the south side of the building. How copy?”

Grizzly hears only static in response, before there’s the echo of gunfire in the distance. 

Price tries again, and she catches the thinly veiled concern seeping into his tone. “Captain Garder, how copy?”

They hadn’t stopped moving while Price was trying to contact the other team, Gaz slipping into the front to watch while their Captain was partially distracted. She shoots him a quick glance, heart beating with increasing speed in her chest. He meets her gaze, reflecting the same worry. 

“Could be the metal jammin’ the signal, sir,” Soap tells the man, obviously trying to provide some hope for the situation. 

“I hope so. Otherwise we may be in some serious trouble.”

Grizzly wonders about Ghost, a stab of worry going through her gut. 

It’s enough for her to speak into the throat mic she wore. “Ghost? How copy?”

There’s a brief moment of silence with soft static, and her heart drops. Then, the lieutenant’s voice breaks through and she feels an instant sense of relief. However, the fact his com link was still linked to them clearly meant the other team’s should still be as well. 

Something had gone wrong, and Grizzly was starting to get an idea as to what. 

“Captain, Garder stopped contacting me a few minutes ago. Confirming status?”

Price curses under his breath, and suddenly the reality of their situation fully hits. The other captain was incapacitated in some way or was–and this was more likely–dead. The fact none of his team was responding either further showed this. 

They all are much more alert now, rifles at the ready. Price returns to leading them, but they continue to not encounter anyone. The halls are eerily quiet, and Grizzly feels goosebumps erupting over her arms. A door looms ahead and Price leads them right to it. He grasps the handle while Gaz and Soap take up position to rush inside. She stands right behind them, mentally preparing to use her med kit. 

Price pushes the door open quickly, and the three of them storm in. 

The sight within makes Soap curse loudly.

Captain Garder and two of the four men with him were lying on the ground or slumped against the wall, blood splattered against the cold metal. 

Grizzly sets down her rifle as Gaz steps up behind her to provide cover while she checks for pulses.

Looking up at Price, she tells him in a grave tone, “They’re dead.”

“Bleedin’ Jesus,” Soap curses from the other room right next to this one and the sight is much the same.

Still, Grizzly dutifully checks for a pulse. She approaches the final soldier from the other team, feeling for any sign he could possibly be alive. She tenses at the feeling against her bare fingers of a barely there heartbeat. 

She instantly slips off the med kit from her back, opening up the bag and rummaging around inside to get out the needed materials to help the soldier. Price, Gaz, and Soap catch the change from where they stood by the door conversing with Ghost to update him on the situation. Soap steps over, helping her handle the barely breathing soldier. 

Suddenly, footsteps thunder in the hall. The sound was echoing towards them, meaning the people coming were still far away enough to not be an immediate threat yet. However, their arrival meant she didn’t have enough time to help this quickly dying soldier in front of her. 

It made a memory of coughed up blood and screams of pain flash through her mind, but she shoves it down and compartmentalizes it to digest later. 

Price meets her eyes, gaze hard as she sets about trying to lift up the fallen soldier. Luckily, he was only a couple inches taller than she was and lean, so hoisting him up into a moveable position wasn’t too difficult with the aid of Soap. They hurry out, Price leading them with Gaz taking point at the rear. 

“Ghost, we’re falling back. Mission is compromised.”

“What's happened, sir?”

Before Price has a chance to answer, they turn a corner and enter the main hallway leading further into the warehouse. At the end are a group of men armed with military grade weaponry, leaving them quickly ducking back to avoid the spattering of gunfire. Soap slips next to Price who was peeking from behind the cover of their corner intermittently to return fire on the men at the end of the hall. 

“Mission went to shit,” Grizzly hisses into the coms, catching the echoes of footsteps they’d heard earlier behind them again.

And this time they were closer.

“Price,” Gaz shouts. “We need to get the hell out of here!”

“I know that-shite!”

“Price!” she shouts, watching him swing back to rest against the wall clutching his bicep. 

Soap takes their Captain’s place, returning fire but having to retreat back around to their side with an irritated huff. 

Grizzly hears the men behind them getting closer by the second and fights down the panic welling up in her gut. She had an injured soldier she needed to finish treating–he’d lost so much blood already it would be a miracle if he survived, but she’d be damned if she didn’t. Not to mention that now Price was injured and it was looking like they were about to be killed. 

“Soap, cover me!” Gaz orders, darting out to where he wasn’t protected by the wall and returns fire. 

Within seconds, Gaz is turning back to them and ordering them to move in a rough tone. Soap falls in at the back to take his spot while Price is in front of her. They move through the hall, racing into the main open space they’d first come through upon entering. 

“Lieutenant, we have assailants on our tail and they’re probably gonna be following us out. Watch our backs,” Gaz says into the coms, receiving an affirmative from Ghost. 

“Gimme 'im,” Soap orders, taking the weight of the injured soldier so she could run faster. “Come oan, go!”

They continue to move, making it out of the doors right as the men behind them catch up. Gunshots are fired their way, and Grizzly hisses as a bullet grazes her leg. She keeps going, adrenaline numbing the pain to a dull sting. Soap, being built like a brick house, was easily carrying the wounded soldier and was still running as fast as she was. 

“Take cover!” Price yells at them, sliding behind a nearby patch of boulders with Gaz close behind. “If we’re separated, rendezvous at the safehouse!”

Soap hunkers down behind another patch of nearby boulders as she races past into the undergrowth. She slides into a hollow in the ground, getting her rifle in position to fire. Grizzly tries to calm her breathing, get rid of that feeling of her heart being practically in her throat. 

Each of them were for the most part separated, meaning she needed to especially be alert at the moment. She listened for the sound of gunshots, of flesh being torn by metal–anything to indicate she needed to go help the men of her team. There’s rustling in the bushes beside  the hollow she was in, and a moment later a man jumps out, pistol aimed right at her forehead.

A/N: AAAAAAAA thank you for reading!

I know I said more Ghost and Grizzly interaction in this chapter, but obviously that didn't happen. I've already drafted out the next chapter so I can FOR SURE say there's more interaction between them in that chapter

Be sure to check my Twitter @Vegas719 if you'd like to chat or check out some art, writing stuff, or general dumbfuckery lmao

Have a good day and drink some water!

[nervouslaughter05]

Hey.

Hey you.

Yes, you.

Come here fellow fanfic writer.

Closer.

Okay, perfect. Ready?

There are not 'better writers' out there. There are only different writers. No one can write your story better than you. No one.

So, write your fic. It's going to be awesome.

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men Chapter 2: Welcome to Scotland

A/N: Here's chapter 2! I've had so much fun writing this so far and I'm really excited to see where it's gonna go!

C/W: mild cursing, some mentions of discrimination based on country of birth

Without further ado, lets dive in

Masterlist

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Scotland.”

“Finally,” Soap groans from the seat in front of her, unclipping his seatbelt and rising to his feet. “Thought A was gonna lose feelin’ in my legs.”

Ghost huffs from his spot in the seat beside her. “Quit your bitchin’, Johnny.”

She nods in agreement, waiting for the lieutenant to rise from his spot in the aisle seat before following suit. Standing after having to sit in a cramped space for so long is a welcome relief. She wished they were able to wear civvies for the flight though. As comfortable as these cargos she was wearing were normally–they were her favorites for that reason–they didn’t compare to the thermal leggings she had been wanting to wear. At least she could wear a beanie her dad had gifted her for Christmas the year prior.

“Language, Simon.”

Grizzly chuckles at the way Price was tiredly speaking to the taller man, and she’s reminded faintly of how her father would speak to her and the rest of her siblings when they’d get themselves in trouble.

They exit the plane, each of them carrying a bag with things to amuse them during their flight and also items which they didn’t want to have with their luggage. Their actual luggage was all checked–due to the size and weight of their duffles none of them wanted to go through the trouble of dragging it on the plane with them–and needed to be retrieved. Soap leads the way, steering them through the airport with ease stemming from landing at this airport so many times.

They were actually going to be conducting business near his residence, so they in essence had their own personal guide to keep them from getting lost.

The airport is bustling with activity, people hurrying across the white floors to catch their flights. Their group gains a few stares–probably from the cargos and the military issue boots they all wore-but Grizzly pointedly ignores them. She elects to focus on Soap and how out of place the three Brits and herself were going to sound wandering around the hills of Scotland. It inspires a fight within herself to keep a smile from breaking out, only imagining the expressions they’ll be wearing once they realize the way Soap talks when he’s all fired up is how everyone here speaks all the time.

Before she knows it, they’ve made their way to the luggage drop off. The conveyor belts remain motionless as the group strides over, not yet moving any luggage around to be grabbed. Soap huffs at the sight, leaning back against a pillar set up just a couple feet from the belt. They all stick relatively close to one another, waiting in the midst of the quickly growing crowd for their bags to be brought down.

“What do you wanna bet that Soap is gonna try to drag us to all the places he went to growing up while we’re here, eh?” she asks Ghost, looking up at him.

He makes this sound halfway between a scoff and a huff, something she has come to associate with his version of laughter. “Don’ need to bet on tha’. He’s gonna do’t whether the lot o’ us like it or not.”

Grizzly chuckles, about to make a further comment when the belt starts moving. A chorus of mumbles goes up, people waiting a little more anxiously for their luggage. The first suitcases come down, all bearing tags and markers to differentiate them and even one belonging to a child that looked like Lightning McQueen. A woman shoves past her with a little boy, the cartoon suitcase and a deep blue one being snatched up. The woman didn’t even bat an eye at how Grizzly was knocked aside, stumbling against Ghost with a soft curse.

“Ya a’right?” her lieutenant asks, steading her with his hands grasping her forearms.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He simply nods as she regains her balance and steps back to her previous spot, taking a minute to calm herself down before searching the conveyor belt for her duffel. She sees it coming down the metal ramp, sliding onto the belt with a thump. Glad she’d decided to bring her poetry books with her instead of packing them in her bag like she normally did because of the rough way her bag was handled, Grizzly gently nudges past a few people and lifts up her duffel. Soap and Gaz’s, each marked with tags bearing their initials, slide down next, separated by a few suitcases from her duffel.

She returns to her spot by Ghost’s side, setting the duffel on the ground and settling her crossbody bag more comfortably on her back. They don’t have to wait much longer for Price and Ghost’s duffels to slide down. Once all of them have the duffels and have double checked that they in fact do have all their belongings (“Lads I’ve lost ‘nough things while traveling in the service to be cautious,” Price had told them as he looked through the neatly packed items in his bag), they exit the airport.

The crisp March air brushes against her cheeks, instantly sending a wave of goosebumps rising over the skin of her arms. It’s welcome, reminding her of the winters in Alaska growing up. Gaz curses, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the thick coat he wore and tucking his head down into the tall collar in an attempt to cover his ears. Price has a similar response, tugging his beanie more firmly over his ears. Ghost doesn’t have a reaction, but that comes as no surprise.

“Where the bloody hell is our ride?” Price questions, one arm around a shivering Gaz as his hand rubs over the younger man’s arm to try to warm him up with his other hand stuffed into his pocket.

“Oh come on Captain it’s not that cold out is it?” she teases, comfortable in her outfit. “It’s not that cold right, Soap?”

The Scot shakes his head, looking the happiest and calmest she’d seen him be for a while. “Nah. I cannae hardly feel ‘t.”

The two of them share a laugh, much to the displeasure of Price and Gaz.

“Well I’m sure Ghost is cold too,” Gaz retorts, sending a look their lieutenant’s way. “Right?”

Ghost shrugs, arms crossed over his broad chest. “M fine actually.”

Gaz grumbles under his breath about how the three of them were insane, Price agreeing with him as they wait for a van to pick them up. To the grateful mumbling of the captain and sergeant, a van pulls up to the curb and a man steps out, greeting them all with a salute and then ushering them inside while loading their bags into the back. Price slips into a row with Gaz while she, Ghost, and Soap all pile into the rear one. It’s a tight fit trying to squeeze back there, especially with the way all three of their shoulders brush together. However, Grizzly doesn’t mind since this has more legroom than the plane and that’s a major thing to be grateful for.

The driver, a British corporal based off of his introduction, slips back into his seat and pulls back into the flow of traffic, driving them to their destination. Price strikes up a conversation with him, and under normal circumstances she’d be paying attention, but right now all she’s focused on is the scenery of Scotland they’re passing by. With each pub and small store or bakery they pass by she’s reminded of the times she came to the country with her father growing up. Distantly she wonders if there will be a chance for her to visit any of them.

“What about ya, Staff Sergeant?”

She is snapped from her thoughts by the voice of the young corporal. “I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?” Grizzly asks, this time actually paying attention.

“I was jus’ askin’ if any o’ the team ‘ad been t’ Scotland b’fore, Staff Sergeant.”

“Yes actually. Several times,” she replies, a smile coming onto her face. “My dad was born in a town not too far from Edinburg. Him and I come with my siblings to visit the family still here for holidays when we can.”

“Reckon they’d accept a surprise visit?” Price inquiries, turning to look back at her.

She rolls her eyes. “And risk losing a free babysitter by not? They’d welcome me with open arms.”

Soap chuckles, and she remembers he came from a big family like she did. He probably got treated in a similar fashion whenever he got time on leave and decided to come home. Thinking of her family lights up a small pang in her chest, wanting badly to see them. Maybe if they got some free time after this assignment before heading back to England she could drive to visit her grandparents, uncle, and cousins.

A gate looms ahead, blocking off the military base from the outside world. Ghost shifts next to her, slipping his phone into one of the various pockets on his cargos after pausing his music. Soap is downright squirming, eager to get out of his seat and move around.

The mental image of smacking him on the back of the head to make him stop moving in the cramped space of the backseat pops into her brain.

Before Grizzly has the chance to act on it, the van comes to a stop inside the gate in front of a building she assumes is offices. The driver turns off the ignition, allowing for the team to offload onto the asphalt. Gaz and Price hurry out of the single side door, already working on getting their things from the back of the van. Since she was in the middle seat, she slips out before the men on either side of her, laughing as Soap tries in vain to scramble out before Ghost. The lieutenant just shoves him back with one big gloved hand on his chest and squeezes through the gap between the two seats Gaz and Price had been in.

“A wan a bile yer heid,” Soap grumbles, finally allowed to exit the van once Ghost is out.

“Oh poor delicate flower,” she coos, hefting up her duffel onto one shoulder after stuffing her crossbody she’d brought on the plane inside. “Do you need a kiss to make it better?”

The Scot grins at that, leaning into her space. “A’d take any excuse to git a kiss from a bonnie lass like yerself.”

“Knock ‘t off,” Ghost orders, grabbing Soap by the back of his collar and pulling him away from her. “We ‘ave an audience.”

“Ya know I dinnae mind tha-OW LT!”

00000

“Your objective is to prevent the deal from goin’ through. If it does, then cut off its head as quickly as possible.”

Grizzly looks over the projected image on the white wall in front of her, taking in the details of the drone shot they’d gotten of a warehouse nestled within Dunfermline. It was about two hours from where they were in Stirling and less than forty minutes from Glasgow, meaning they needed to keep that in mind when searching for their targets. According to the intel they’d been given, an American mafia affiliated group who called themselves the “Eagles” had taken up business inside. Under normal circumstances, this would be left to the authorities in the area.

However, this wasn’t normal circumstances.

Based on what had been presented to them, the 141 was going to be facing a bust for a massive deal. They were talking drugs, weapons, blacklists, and more. It was gonna require one hell of a cleanup job.

She knew the paperwork they’d all have to fill out after this mission would be a bitch and half.

“I trust your team can handle this, Captain Price?”

The statement is worded like a question, giving off the illusion none of them buy that they were actually allowed to say no to this.

Price doesn’t take the bait, meeting the eyes of the man conducting their mission briefing. “Yes sir.”

“Good,” the man says with a nod, turning off the projector and flicking the lights back on. “Your team heads out at 2300.”

With that, they’re all dismissed. As she passes the man who’d conducted the briefing, he sniffs with an air of disdain around him, and Grizzly suspects it is due to her being an American. Not letting it phase her, she continues out the door after Soap. She encountered this plenty while on bases not her own housing primarily individuals from the various parts of the UK. This was actually the reason why she preferred being on bases holding other American units on an assignment.

With Price at the head, the team heads down the hallways of the base, navigating towards the barracks. There are several soldiers inside, all conversing noisily in their Scottish tongue. Soap hightails it for a few of them playing cards, instantly being roped in once they heard his natural accent. About a quarter of the total number of soldiers in the room were British, their accents a harsh contrast to that of the natives of this country. She notes dryly there aren’t any Americans in this barrack, but that wasn’t exactly unusual given the base they were on was really for the British Army.

“Johnny’s in his natural element,” Ghost comments, leaning back against the wall.

“He’s surrounded by his own species,” she affirms, chuckling at the sight of their sergeant arguing animatedly with another soldier, accent molding his words so thickly even she was having trouble deciphering it. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to drag him back once this mission is done.”

Her lieutenant makes that scoffing huff noise, likely thinking the same thing.

Grizzly sits on her bunk–the bottom one since the only open top bunks were on the other side of the room away from her team–and looks up at him. “What are your plans for until we head out? We have at least ten hours to go.”

“Make sure Johnny doesn’t get into trouble,” the man replies and she laughs.

“You don’t wanna interact with your species?” she teases, watching as he leans against the frame of a bunk bed behind him.

Ghost shrugs, voice passive as he speaks. “Already know what they’ll wanna talk ‘bout. Not tha’ interestin’.”

“Aw, so you prefer my company over theirs?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

She chuckles, attention being drawn away by Price who had come to stand by her bunk.

“Never seen Soap fit in with a group so quickly,” he comments, echoing the same stream of thought she and Ghost were coasting over earlier. “Good for ‘im.”

“It sounds like you’re talkin’ about exposure therapy for a dog,” Grizzly laughs, watching as the Scotsman stands with the soldiers he had been playing cards with.

After exchanging several fist bumps and shoulder taps, Soap strides back to them with a pep in his step.

She chuckles. “Someone’s happy.”

“Ah shove off,” he replies, no actual venom in his tone. “If there was a buncha Americans ‘ere you’d be doin’ the same thing, lass.”

She shrugs, and Price seems to find the interaction amusing, almost like a dad watching his young kids play fight would. Gaz wanders over from where he had been conversing with some British soldiers, standing by their Captain. He seems to be glad to have rejoined them, and she recalls the man’s tendency to stick around them since trying to be around new people just didn’t appeal to him the same as the team he’d been with for years.

“Any ideas for how to pass the time?” he asks, stance relaxed beside Price.

“Just trying to figure that out,” Grizzly replies, scooting over on the bed and offering the spot to him.

Soap tries to swoop in, and she wrestles with him so Gaz could take the spot. Gaz laughs, pulling her further back onto the bed to slip in front of her in a move of pretending to defend her from the Scot. Soap huffs from his spot on the ground where she’d shoved him, trying again to climb onto the bed. This time he succeeds, taking Grizzly’s spot and leaving her sitting pressed against the wall the bunk was against.

“You little shit,” she laughs, climbing from behind the two of them.

They take it as their cue to scoot back, now resting comfortably on her cot. Grizzly grips the metal of the frame for the top bunk, one knee on the mattress. She grins, slowly moving back onto the mattress.

“What’re ya doin’, Griz?” Soap questions as she starts to move.

“I,” she replies, making a quick move and laying over both of their laps with her head propped up on her pillow. “Am laying on my bed. What’s it look like?”

Soap, who was holding her upper half on his lap, flicks her forehead and she smacks him in the stomach in retaliation. She hears the scoffing huff faintly, and it sends a little thrill through her. Price barks at them to knock it off, but if he really meant it his voice would have been much more stern.

00000

The med pack rests heavily between her feet. She’d placed it there for the bumpy ride to make sure it didn’t get jostled around too badly, but considering how badly they were all experiencing just that, it wouldn’t be a surprise if some of it was moved. Ghost is on her left inside of the vehicle with Gaz and Soap opposite them and Price at the wheel. They were almost to the safehouse where they’d be keeping stock of what was going on at the warehouse and also be far enough away that their activity wouldn’t be an issue. It was around forty minutes from the actual warehouse they were going after, meaning if something went wrong they’d be on their own for a while before any form of exfil or help would arrive.

To say that the stakes were high was an understatement.

“How’s everyone doin’?” Price asks, eyes never leaving the road in front of him where another vehicle was driving ahead of them.

“Gettin’ tired of sittin’ down, Captain,” Gaz replies, speaking for all of them.

“Almost there lads. Just a few more minutes.”

“Think my legs are gonna go numb if I sit for any longer,” she grumbles, trying to avoid slamming into the metal wall on her right on a particularly rough patch of road.

The minutes pass agonizingly slow, until even she is fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.

Normally, long drives didn’t bother her. Growing up in Alaska, having to drive long distances wasn’t unusual. During missions, there would sometimes be occurrences where they were on the road for several hours before they reached their destination. It could even be brought up the long flight they’d had to endure coming from their last base to Scotland.

She can still remember Las Almas, squeezed between the seats Soap and Ghost were residing in when the latter had hijacked a truck to get them away from Graves. That drive had been a good couple hours, though she supposed being so hyped up on adrenaline lessened the effects of wanting to get out of the vehicle.

They finally come to a rocky stop, Soap and Gaz exiting first while she follows and Ghost goes behind her. The ground feels firm beneath her and being able to stretch her legs after so long was a welcome relief. They wait for Price, trailing behind him into the safehouse. Grizzly, out of habit, finds herself slipping in between Soap and Gaz like she did on normal missions.

The 141 and the additional team sent out with them set up in the safe house, setting down their weapons and beginning to set up who would be taking care of what. Grizzly discovered she was the only medic present, something surprising considering the amount of spec ops soldiers there was here. However, she doesn’t question it and continues along, simply giving her usual rundown to the men on the other team about what it meant to protect her as a medic and if she was ever incapacitated in any way the various ways to treat wounds.

She had never been incapacitated in any fights with the 141 besides in Las Almas when Graves had betrayed them and one of his Shadows had hit her with the butt of their rifle.

“Any questions?” Grizzly asks, eyes sweeping over the five men before her.

“Yeah,” one of them says after a moment, gaining her attention. “What’s an American like ya doing w’ us, huh?”

Ah.

This was gonna be a long mission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter we should get more Grizzly and Ghost action (cause I know they're not interacting a whole lot rn but there's a reason for that) ;3

[nervouslaughter05]

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[nervouslaughter05]

hi there!! 🎀🎉 & 💞 for the fic writer asks please!!

That moment one of your favorite authors sees your blog-

🎀-give yourself a compliment about your own writing

I love my ability to make people feel really strong emotions over what I've written. Obviously I haven't posted many pieces on Tumblr, but the countless other ones I have written and shared with friends have all been able to achieve the desired emotion being conveyed in the work and that's such a big deal for me.

🎉-how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

Okay so...probably not enough if I'm gonna be honest. As stated before, I haven't posted a whole lot and I'm the kind of person who is constantly worrying about how others feel so posting things actually causes a lot of anxiety for me. Especially if it doesn't get a lot of attention. I realize that it doesn't matter how many people read what I post so long as I genuinely enjoy what I'm putting out, but that wasn't until recently when I posted my work "Stars to Comfort a Lonely Moon" and got a comment on it. Seeing that even one person did that literally made me squeal with happiness.

💞-what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

I am a very visual and emotional person, so I would have to say being able to properly paint the world revolving around the characters and showing their emotions is a big thing. In my opinion, you can't really understand characters unless you understand the world they're in. Also, there's just something so satisfying about reading a piece with such strong emotion that you just sit there after reading it and think "wow holy crap that felt so [insert emotion]".

Apologies for the mini ramble I went on haha. Anyways thank you so much for responding! I love your works so much!

[nervouslaughter05]

Feel free to ask!

Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write? 💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with? 🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

🌿how does creating make you feel? 🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change? 🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? 🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"? 🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you? 💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it. 🍭why did you start writing? 💎why is writing important to you? 📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom?

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of? 🤲what do YOU get out of writing? 💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer? 🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to? 💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

[nervouslaughter05]

Masterlist

Call of Duty

[nervouslaughter05]

Call of Duty Masterlist

Of Monsters and Men

Female OC x Ghost

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men-Chapter 1

A/N: As promised, here is my second (and much happier might I say) addition to the CoD fandom! When the CoD edits started pouring into my TikTok feed, you would not believe how happy I was. Instantly, the healthy love I had felt for Ghost when I was younger and playing the game with my friends blossomed into a thirst quenchable only with the finest literature (Tumblr and Ao3 have been my saving grace) could satisfy.

I will be posting a ref sheet and a fact file for my OC on my art insta and here within hopefully the next week or so. Just know she is 5'6", has auburn hair she wears in a single french braid, and greyish-blue eyes.

Anyways, please heed the tags! I will be putting a note at the top of each chapter with some tags for that chapter specifically just for added protection for you readers :). Thank you and enjoy!

Art Insta: @timtoart05

C/W: blood and injury mention, OC patches up a bullet wound of a soldier and a knife wound (neither are described in graphic detail but blood is mentioned), minor language, mentions of killing and shooting

Masterlist

“Soap, I’m running a little low over here!”

“Here, catch!”

Grizzly snatches the magazine from the air, deftly reloading her rifle and taking aim at the incoming hostiles. She pulls the trigger and sends a ball of lead right between the eyes of one of the men. As he crumbles to the ground, she takes aim again, staring into her scope and sending another man into the dirt. 

“We cannae keep this up!” Soap yells to be heard above the sound of gunfire, taking down targets of his own. “The fuckers jus’ keep comin’. ”

She sends another man to the grave, shouting back, “You think I don’t realize that?”

“Alpha, where the hell are you?” Grizzly questions, pressing the com resting in her ear that was tethered to a radio on her vest. “We’re gettin’ hammered out here!”

“About four minutes out,” her captain replies, the sound of helicopter blades slicing through the air traceable in the background. “Hold on.”

“Copy that.”

The marine to her right falls onto his back, clutching at his shoulder with a cry of pain. Her attention snaps from the rifle in her hands to the injured man, dropping it and hurrying to his side with her kit already open and ready to go. She keeps one of her hands pressing down on the one he already had on his shoulder to stanch the bleeding while the other pulls out gauze and cotton to pack the wound. Grizzly gently moves his shoulder up from the ground to check for an exit wound, instantly plugging her finger into the hole while she grasps a bottle of antiseptic. 

“Count to three for me, corporal,” she orders, flicking open the cap while the injured soldier does as told. 

Except she pours it on when he’s at one. He curses in pain, stiff beneath her steady hands. She expertly packs and bandages the wound. Once the gauze is firmly secured, the latex gloves get tossed away in favor of being swapped out for the combat ones. 

“Can you still shoot?” she questions, hands already back on her rifle as she gets a nod from the corporal. “Good. Back to your post.”

Grizzly transitions from corpsman to sniper instantly, resuming her position and taking aim at the men below. Right as she gets ready to take down one of the men hunting them from the outside of the compound they’d holed themselves in, the remaining men begin dropping like flies. She catches sight of a sniper taking aim at them from their spot on top of a nearby building right before there’s a hulking form shooting them in the back of the head. 

Ghost. 

“Fuck yeah!” she yells, watching the last man drop dead as Alpha team sweeps through. 

“Take that ya sonuva bitches!” Soap cheers, rising to his feet and a hand going to the com in his ear. “Just in time fellas.”

“You’re welcome,” Gaz replies, his voice filtering smoothly through the coms. “You comin’ down or do we need to move in?”

“Meet us halfway,” Soap tells him as Grizzly rises to her feet with the rifle grasped firmly in her hands. 

He leads the way, their squad moving behind him in a line. She’s second to last, the marine with the injured shoulder in front of her while a massive brute is behind her. They move with ease, boots thumping on the stairs as all eight of them make their way from the third floor to the first. 

Fresh air brushes fondly over her face once the squad is outside, soothing her heated skin.

“Good to see ya in one piece,” Gaz says, bumping Soap’s fist with his own in their handshake.

Grizzly ushers the marines onto the helicopter, turning to Gaz once the last soldier gets on. “Of course y'all make an appearance right as the numbers die down.” 

He laughs, turning and leading them to the helicopter just as Ghost was coming back. 

“Lieutenant,” she greets him, nodding at the helicopter. “Nice move out there. Bet that poor bastard didn’t even see you comin’. ”

He nods to her, voice gruff as he speaks. “Sergeants.”

She grins, climbing into the helicopter after Soap and settling into the first open spot she sees. Ghost follows closely after, dropping heavily into the seat at her left since the others had all filled up. Price enters last, nodding to her and Soap before taking a seat and ordering the pilots to take them back to base. 

And just like that, the mission was a success. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Soap if you don’t stop moving I have the authority to knock you out.”

The man chuckles at the threat. “Doesn’t that go against your oath, Griz?”

She snorts, shoving him. “We’re surrounded by marines. You really think they’d care?”

Gaz laughs at the pout the Scot puts on at the reply. “Aw c’mon, man. Ya know she loves you too much to do somethin’ like tha’. ”

“Debatable,” she quips, winding the bandage around Soap’s thigh where he’d been knifed during the fight.

“A’m hurt, Griz,” Soap tells her, placing a hand over where his heart is and putting on a mock frown. 

She chuckles. “Oh come on ya big baby. Even if I did knock you out, I’d make sure you were properly taken care of. I can’t be the only raging Scot around here to celebrate the death of the queen.”

Soap laughs at that, unable to stay mad while Gaz deadpans. “Guess yer right, lass. Even if yer only half.”

“Only one who ken wat yer talking ‘bout, Soap,” Grizzly says, laughing at the other man in the room with them shaking his head. 

“Even after all these years I still can’t understand the two of ya.”

“Don’t need to,” she hums, standing and encouraging Soap to do the same to check his bandages. “How’s that feel?”

“Better,” he replies, heading for the door of the med ward. “Wanna get some eats? The mess should still be open.”

Grizzly follows closely behind the other sergeant with Gaz at her side, making their way through the base. It wasn’t the one they called home, but considering she had spent five years in the marine corps before being called by Price to join his budding 141, she was able to steer them in the right direction. Marines walked past, nodding in respect to her and the team. More than once she heard a teasing “Evenin’, Mama Bear” passing by. This just made her grin and keep walking, knowing it was the soldiers own way of showing their respect to her as a doctor. 

“What’s up with their whole thing of calling you ‘Mama Bear’, Griz?” Soap asks as they enter the mess hall and get into line. “I don’t think I’ve heard any of them refer to you by Grizzly once.”

She shrugs. “That’s just the marine way, Soap. Gotta show their respect somehow. Many of them knew me back when I was still a corpsman meaning that I saved a lot of their asses out in combat.”

The room was still full of marines of various rankings shuffling about and sitting at tables eating. When she steps out of line to wait for Gaz and Soap to finish being served up, a squad marches in. They’re all very loud, shoving one another with playful roughness in line. She rolls her eyes at the display, all too familiar with it even after being officially away from the scene for nearly three years at this point. 

Her other two team members finally step away with their food, at her sides as they find a place to sit down and eat. She spies an empty table against the back wall, turning to face Gaz and Soap. Grizzly nods in the direction of the table, weaving through the mass of tables and bodies crowding them. They get to the back of the room, settling down and digging in. 

“How was the mission, Mama Bear?” a marine sitting at the table about two feet from theirs inquires, catching her attention right as she was taking a bite of her food.

Another marine cuts in before she can answer. “Oh come on Daniels. Ya know it went well. Any team with Mama Bear as the corpsman is gonna make it out in one piece. Ain't that right, Mama Bear?”

“Damn straight,” she replies, a grin on her face. “There’s a reason why you’re cautioned against riling up a grizzly with cubs, fellas.”

The marines chuckle at her response, leaving her to eat the rest of the meal in peace. 

“That was so corny,” Gaz teases, sipping his juice. 

She shrugs. “True though ain’t it?”

He just huffs out a laugh and keeps eating. Soap swaps banter with the marines and Grizzly joins in every now and then, amused highly at the confused expressions on the faces of the marines when she used her thick Scottish accent. Eventually the marines finish up, leaving with a chorus of “bye Mama Bear!”s and nods to the men she was with. 

She pulls her phone out, shooting a quick text to her older brother as she remembered something random he’d asked her on a call they’d had a few days ago. Before she could put it away, her ringtone goes off and the caller ID of “Mom” pops up. Without skipping a beat, her ringtone is silenced and the phone is put back into one of the side pockets of her cargos. 

“Scammer?” Gaz asks, gaze curious. 

Grizzly shakes her head, going back to eating. “Nah. My mom.”

Soap’s head snaps up, eyes meeting hers. “Why’re you hanging up on yer mum, Griz? Wat’s the woman done now, aye?”

“The usual,” is all she replies with, finishing off the last of her food and drinking the rest of her juice. “Her latest fixation is kinda funny though.”

Gaz seems slightly nervous as he asks, “And what would that be?”

She looks up from her tray of food, meeting his gaze. “When she’s gonna be getting grandkids from me.”

Soap nearly chokes on his drink from the snort of laughter that spills from his lips while Gaz takes a moment to process her words. 

“Wat aboot findin’ a partner first?” the Scot manages to say between his wheezing laughs, trying to rein it in. “Ye cannae jus’ pop out a pup at her request.”

“That’s what I tried to tell her,” Grizzly says, pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer finger and thumb with furrowed brows. “So then she just goes ‘When’s the wedding then?’ and I almost lost it.”

Soap’s laughter rings out as Gaz shakes his head, shoulders shaking with his own laughs. 

“Sounds awful,” Gaz concedes. “She want you out of the military or somethin’?”

She nods, rising from the table as the men do the same. “Exactly. She hates how long I’ve been in for. Thinks I need to get out and do normal ‘woman things’-whatever the hell that means.”

“She’s very old fashioned isn’t she?” Gaz remarks, walking beside her. 

“Old-fashioned is an understatement, Gaz.”

The three of them walk out of the mess hall together, passing by the packed tables of marines. Murmurs follow in their wake, speaking of the prestige of the team. She’s amused by the murmurs, having grown used to them after spending a few years in 141. Soap and Gaz converse while they walk, the former very animated in his speaking and hand movements. 

Her phone vibrates in her pocket against her leg, but she pointedly ignores it. 

“Ey Ghost!”

She had zoned out, not seeing the approach of their team’s lieutenant. He nods to them in greeting, trying to go on his way around Soap. The insistent sergeant however blocks him, striking up–or at least tries to–a conversation with the other man. 

“Where ya off to, L.t?” Soap asks, sunshine attitude leaking from him in waves. 

Ghost looks down, voice neutral. “None of your business, Johnny.”

Grizzly rolls her eyes with an affectionate huff, stepping forward and placing a hand on Soap’s shoulder. “Leave ‘em alone, Soap. Maybe he just wants some peace and quiet away from you.”

The Scot guffaws, pouting at her. He looks back at Ghost. “Tell me it’s not true, Ghost!”

Ghost huffs, and she can tell from his expression alone he was raising an eyebrow beneath the mask. “Why? No point in lying to ya.”

She laughs at the mock anguish Soap plasters on his face, getting to relieve the sergeant’s drama from earlier when she’d been treating his wound. Gaz chuckles, heading down the hallway in the direction of the barracks and showers with a soft “M gonna clean up” to Grizzly. She watches him go for a moment before turning her attention back to the lieutenant and the other sergeant. 

“Ya wound me, Ghost,” Soap sighs dramatically, sagging down into Grizzly’s hold. “At least I still have ya Griz.”

“Wouldn’t change a thing, Soap,” she tells him, patting his back. 

“Since ya want to know so badly,” Ghost says, getting the Scot to perk up. “I was heading to the gym.”

She looks up at the lieutenant, slightly surprised before realizing this was Ghost they were talking to. 

“Lookin’ for some sparrin’ partners?” Soap asks, slinging an arm around Grizzly so she couldn’t slink away. “Am sure Griz would love to spar wi’ ya. Right?”

“I’ll break your arm, Soap.”

He laughs. “Calm down, shorty.”

“Show some respect to your superior,” she orders playfully, squirming from his grip. “I didn’t get into the military two years before you did just to not be shown the respect I’m due.”

Soap grins. “Sounds like we ‘ave an issue to deal wi’. Care to fight it out?”

She glances up at Ghost–Christ why did she have to be so short compared to him–who had an expression of a man resigned to an interrupted workout and then back at the Scot. “You’re on.”

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men-Introduction

Next Part

There were two things Katelyn had learned while in the military.

#1. Nothing ever went according to plan.

Something always went awry. 

Even if it was as small as an object not being where it needed to.

Or as big as an explosion.

#2. Katelyn could only trust in a handful of things on the field. 

Her knowledge. 

Her boys. 

And her name.