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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

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Drowning In The Depths

Hey, life has been busy and rough and I am so sorry it has taken this long but by god I have finally finished so I hope y'all enjoy

Part 13

Pairing: Price x Male!Reader

WC: 9.7k

Synopsis: A stressful flee home

Warnings: Blood but I think that's it

“I can’t do anything else, sir,” quiet words reached your ears as you neared a corner. “We need to leave. Now Price. We never should have stopped in the first place.” There was a slight pause just before the Scotsman continued in this one sided conversation, “The bullet in his abdomen never exited and the one in his thigh barely missed his femoral artery. I can patch up a wound or two but not…” Another pause succeeded in making the worry bubble back up, and so soon after you’d just put it to bed, “Not that.” The admission in Soap’s voice reverberated throughout the stairwell. There was nothing else they could do.

A thought to interrupt slid into your mind, to interject and offer whatever help that you could. No, they obviously wanted privacy and you were going to give it to them. You pressed against the wall of the hallway just beside the doorway, staying where you were just out of sight and therefore out of mind.

They’d had to seek out the solitude of the stairwell to avoid the other team members, and though you weren’t sure exactly why they did at first, you were pretty sure you knew the reason for it now. Though they didn’t seem like the type of team to hide anything from one another, this was a bit different. If Konig had heard Soap talking like that you were almost certain the man would have lost it. No more operator and hello worried best friend who would do anything to protect Watcher.

You reached a hand down to the freshly rinsed fur, your fingers running gently over one of his ears as they continued their hushed conversation inside the stairwell. You could feel John’s concern from here but your blood ran a bit colder when he asked, “Can we even move him, Soap?” There was a tense silence that followed the question, neither daring to say anything for a second before one of them finally let out a breath and you imagined the shorter man giving the Brit an unsure shrug of his shoulders before the older man responded for him, “Dead if we do and dead if we don’t.” John’s hushed tone made your stomach sink, Watcher really was as fucked as you had been afraid of it would seem. Or at least he was on the fence enough that neither were comfortable with the potential outcome.

Soap answered quickly after that realization and you could imagine him nodding along as he did, “Aye sir. There’s nothing more that I can do here. Just keeping him comfortable for now. He’s gonna need another transfusion soon though and I’m out of my O negative. I can’t give anymore blood either, so we have to be fast before he bleeds out. And, you’re going to have to give him some of yours, Price.” You didn’t need to see them in order to picture a tense jaw and the storm in his eyes while his mind whirled, trying to come up with a solution.

You could picture it in your mind, his mustache flaring upwards as his mouth worked in that unique way you’d only ever seen him do. His upper lip not so much curling as it simply seemed to just lift before returning to its resting state. Broad, muscled shoulders undoubtedly tense as he remained unnervingly still in the shadows of the stairwell. Thoughts were whirling through his head at this point, you knew that from your own experiences leading a team. The worries and the potential roads never stopped. A constant circle to get lost in if you weren’t careful. You even found yourself, for a short moment, happy about the fact it wasn’t you that had to make the decision this time. The weight of responsibility had finally been lifted and you enjoyed it, no more tough calls for you.

John not only had to take into account Watcher’s life which hung in the balance, but also the rest of your lives. Hell you’d all been forced to stop the night before to tend to his wounds after he’d nearly bled out in the van with only Amaan’s hate-filled words to drown out the horrendous groans of pain that rattled around the enclosed walls. Though that might have been a bit unfair to Watcher, after all it hadn’t just been his unstoppable bleeding that had forced you to take shelter in the only safe place around that any of you knew. This was a complicated equation that not one team leader you’d ever met had truly wrapped their head around. It was hard to sacrifice a man you spent every day with, even for the good of the others.

And driving in the middle of the day you were sure as hell to hit a roadblock looking specifically for you and your team. Sure night in no way eliminated that possibility but it lessened it a great deal, especially nearly a whole day afterwards. Even if you were to hit a roadblock in the dark it would be easier to slip by unnoticed with tired guards and the darkness to hide the inconsistencies of your disguise. When Laswell had said they were set up on every road from here to the border last night it had been a no-brainer to stop in the one place the team was guaranteed safety at least for now. Especially when not even her and her team with their unlimited resources could find a way through the maze that had erected around you.

The real question being asked now though was whether John was ready to risk the rest of the team’s lives in addition to Watcher’s. The rest of you could have stayed holed up in this little, run down building for at least another week if you had needed to. There were enough rations to last you in here along with running water. But the kid was in a bad way, for him it was no longer an option. Either you all left now or he died before he ever really had a fighting chance to stay alive. A losing situation either way for John if things went south.

It was now the difference between a known fatality and a risk for more. An easy decision this would never be, but you already knew what you would do in this situation back when you still ran your own team. You also knew how the rest of the men you led would react in the face of this risk. To save one of the men who’d put their life in your hands you’d have moved heaven and earth to ensure you did everything you could to not let them go home to their families in a box. And there would have been no man on those teams who would have done any differently. That mentality was nurtured and honed from the minute you had signed up for the military and it still had yet to die.

Whether you were invested or distant, callous or passionate, these men quickly became the one thing in life you could rely on. They were your family. They were your friends. They were your brothers in everything but blood. John’s face filled your thoughts in that moment as another lingering thought whispered in your mind, they became your lovers.

Oh the things you knew you would have done for that damn Brit at this point. Moving heaven and earth couldn’t compare in the slightest to what you’d do for that man. He was a reason for dying. No Speck let’s be honest with yourself, he was so much more to you now. John was a reason for living. You were in far too deep for barely even knowing the man, but you didn’t need to know him to know how you felt about him. Fuck it, when did you ever take the safest option on the table? You were a SEAL for fucks sake. John had caught you like a fish; hook, line, and sinker.

Finally that guttural voice grabbed your attention again, snatching you back from the depths of your thoughts and throwing you into the present, “Get him ready to move, Soap. And go ahead and get a line ready, I’ll give you a bag just in case he needs it.” Soap didn’t say anything but you nearly immediately heard boots hitting the floor in the next couple of moments. You slipped back around the corner, pressing your back to the wall with Cerberus standing idly at your side. The young man turned out of the door and down the hall back to the main room and towards his patient, and you observed quietly as he went. Not once did the Scotsman’s focus waver from the objective he had been given. And you had no reason to distract him by making it obvious you’d heard nearly every word.

Neither man probably would have ever known you’d been there if John hadn’t stopped at the threshold to watch Soap heading back. Staying silent you listened as he took in a deep breath, there was worry etched in the way he stood, the way his head hung just a bit and you knew he was questioning himself. Not even John Price could be a Captain all the time. You slid around the corner silently just before his head slowly turned and he locked eyes with you. His brunette brows raised in question though not surprise, never surprise. Then you spoke softly, “I’d do the same.” Not much comfort coming from someone like you but it seemed that it was enough for him.

John’s dark brows lowered then and he gave a short nod before he stepped towards you. It was an instinct, a reaction you couldn’t help as the taller man pressed his body into yours and your arms locked around him. You almost didn’t know what to do, you certainly had no clue what to say. Just stay quiet, no need to ruin this with your inability to conjure the right, soothing words. His forehead laid against your shoulder as his arms squeezed your midsection. He pulled you impossibly closer as he took whatever comfort from you that he could, and both of you knew this would be the last physical intimacy you would be getting from one another for the foreseeable future. A last dose to tide you over until you got your next fix of one another.

Then just as suddenly as it had happened he was pulling himself away from you once more, his fingers dragging over your sides as the both of you regretted the loss of one another. Without a word he turned on his heel to head after Soap and vanished through the door at the end of the hall. It would seem the team needed to get ready to move, sooner rather than later. Time to get yours and Cerberus’ shit together and finish this thing strong. You couldn’t be a burden now, the team was already dragging around a helpless Watcher and that deadbeat Amaan, whatever you felt and however much guilt you were carrying was irrelevant now. Focus up and get it done.

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The van jostled the lot of you around in the back as y’all rode in a tense, unbroken silence. John was next to you stock still, it was like he’d forgotten he was alive instead of a marble statue. More than a few times you’d found yourself stealing a quick glance his way just to make sure he was still breathing as worry bubbled up inside of you. Meanwhile Ghost and Konig were across the narrow aisle, the latter leaning forward over Watcher’s resting body just as motionless as the man beside you was.

Despite the hood across his face you could see the worry that had taken up residence in his expressive green eyes. His whole body seemed like you could have cut a single cord and he would have fallen to the ground in a heap of body parts. Konig’s gaze was focused solely on the young man who had been going in and out of consciousness for the past hour, showing more concern for him than you’d ever seen out of anyone before, of that you were almost certain.

Gaz was stuck in the driver’s seat up front, disconnected from the rest of the group as he tried to get everyone home in one piece. Meanwhile the only other Scotsman on board was sitting between Ghost’s spread legs, all of you having to make the most of the space allotted to you which wasn’t much in this little closet-like cubby that had been carved out. Soap had taken the worst seat as he needed to be as close to Watcher as he could be, however you doubted proximity would have mattered much at this point. Not after you’d overheard Soap and John before you left the safehouse.

Darkness engulfed the road outside as the other Sergeant drove the lot of you back to base. So far you’d been lucky to avoid any of the roadblocks while Laswell, and whoever worked directly under her, secured the team a plane home once you got back. Another pothole shook the whole van and Watcher groaned out in pain at the sudden movement. Skinny, blood soaked fingers tried desperately to clutch at his wounds just before Soap guided them elsewhere, as much of a distraction as he could be.

Konig slid to the edge of his seat, his body going rigid as he watched the young man helplessly. There was nothing he could do, at least not right now. Y’all were in the middle of a warzone, it was a miracle he was still breathing, it was almost asking too much for him to make it through this if you were being honest. The tip of Konig’s boot slammed into yours, a slight shock of pain rattling up through your ankle and dissipating as it reached your knee. It wasn’t like you could move any further away though, not with Amaan snoozing and under sedation beneath yours and John’s feet. Konig physically couldn’t get closer no matter how much he wished to in that moment.

As Watcher’s face evened out and he settled down once more you all seemed to take a breath in unison that no one had even realized they were holding. Oh thank fuck he hadn’t erupted into some fit of searing pain, the bullet had to be agony inducing still stuck inside there. You could only imagine the pain if you were being honest.

Slowly your gaze slid around and back to the small space between the front seats, watching Gaz’s lone form as best you could through the small slot. There was no telling how far you still had to drive at this point, it could have been hours or minutes and you would have been none the wiser. You still had no idea where the base was even located, though you could wager an educated guess. God how long had you spent out here? Too long you knew, but the days always seemed to mold together, turning into an immeasurable block of time that one day you were almost sure you would end up forgetting. That was if you made it that long anyway.

A heavy thwack against your leg broke you from where your gaze was stuck on the young man up front. Your eyes dropped to find the excitable dog as he inched closer to Watcher, as careful as any human would have been; it was like he knew how close the young man was getting to meeting his maker. Cerberus laid down with the gentleness of a much more intelligent creature, curling next to Watcher’s slender body as his nose gave a few cautious sniffs and he went still.

Pale, bloody fingers slid away from where the blood was still leaking out from the bandage wrapped around them before they nearly disappeared in the thick fur and held tight onto the dog who was currently the only relief the poor young man could find. At least the Dutchie was a patient dog in the face of just about anything, and he was more than content to become Watcher’s caretaker at least for now. After all, anyone would be exhausted after this long with no down time and even Cerberus was no exception.

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The border was inching ever closer now and the tension that had dissipated not so long ago was suddenly mounting once more, growing thicker with every second. There had been too much downtime now, too many hours spent stuck together in the heat of the van with the smell of iron so close that all of you could taste it. Y’all needed to do something and yet there was nothing that you could do.

Watcher was beginning to shift again and as all eyes shot to him you realized just how the rest of the team saw him. Not as a young man but instead they saw him as more of a child in need of protection than an actual operator, and the attention they paid him would end up getting them all killed one day if they weren’t careful. It was getting harder and harder to believe that they respected him seeing how protective they were in that moment, and you probably wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t been there when they had actually treated him like an adult. It was a weird combination of emotions everyone felt for him, however you’d seen it before, even in your own teams back in the day. Everyone protected the new guy as best they could even while they hazed the hell outta him and gave him hell any other time of the day

“Oh fuck,” the voice from the front seat almost startled you just as it did everyone else, their attention turning simultaneously from Watcher and instead towards the front of the van in search of the culprit. John, who had been sleeping lightly next to you, immediately stood up and stepped over Amaan’s body to lean towards the front of the van so that he could peek through the small opening between the seats. Your view was blocked but you could see him glance out the windshield before the man in the driver’s seat muttered, “Slight problem up here Cap. There’s a roadblock,” you leaned up in your own seat then to glance out the front window as well as you looked around John’s broad form as best you could, investigating the sight of flashing lights.

A line of cars had been stopped on the road and you had about four car lengths to figure out how to not get caught running an op on foreign soil- you could only assume without permission- with a man near death and another sedated into oblivion. You could hear Gaz tapping his finger nervously against the steering wheel and glancing back at you and John as subtly as he could. With Gaz at the wheel you all knew full well there was no way of making it through this damn roadblock unscathed. It had nothing to do with his skill; he simply didn’t speak the local dialects…You did.

The man who had been on idle next to you for the last few hours was spouting orders in a heartbeat, directing the flow of traffic like a pro. “Trade places with Speck. Now, Gaz, move it.” There was an urgency in his voice that you hadn’t heard since the mission the day before. Your head whipped around nearly immediately as the other man in the front waited till none of the guards were watching and then threw the van in park. He tumbled through the small slot in the van and into the little cubby you had been afforded as he slid onto the bench next to Ghost and then suddenly all eyes were on you.

It was dark outside now so at least most of your movements were covered by the shadows of the night. With darkness hiding the chaos currently unfolding in this already too small space. John was tearing into one of the bags thrown in the corner just as quickly as he’d started shouting orders, pulling out clothes that you quickly recognized as Watcher’s. Well fuck. He tossed you the taqiyah and thobe the ginger usually kept for when y'all were driving, especially over the borders. Your eyes shot between the clothes now in your hand and the brunette who’d given them to you. It was no secret you were a great deal bigger than the young man, hell Soap had a better chance at fitting in them than you did. The unwavering gaze that stared back at you apparently meant that he didn’t give two shits though. This was the expectation and lord you were gonna have to deal with the lot you’d been given.

A quiet curse escaped your lips before you started pulling the long thobe over your head, maneuvering your shoulders carefully inside the suffocating fabric before you reached up to affix the taqiyah as well. You could barely lift your arm, feeling the fabric tighten dangerously around the muscle of your shoulder, and damn how skinny was this kid? It felt like you were holding in your gut for dear life, had you really put on that much weight recently?

The thobe was much too short and clung to your chest and shoulders like a straight jacket, feeling more like a corset that was trying to reshape the proportions of your body than the loose fitting piece of modest clothes it was supposed to be. Good lord how were you gonna pass this shit off to a bunch of a men who knew what it was actually supposed to look like. Role or not this was gonna be a difficult one to pass off, and you weren’t entirely sure you were going to be able to do it. The whole thing was too rushed, there was too much riding on your shoulders and it’d been too long since someone had relied on you like this. Fuck it though, it was time to play the ill dressed cargo van driver who had no business being out in the middle of the night trying to cross borders. Lovely.

Glancing down at Cerberus you gave a quiet command of, “Bleib,” afterall the last thing you needed was him trying to follow you into the front and causing a scene. Unclipping the lead from your belt you handed it off to John quickly, undoubtedly running out of time now. Peeking between the seats into the front you took a quick glance at the men, making sure they weren’t paying attention before you hopped through and into the driver’s seat, throwing the van back into gear as you rolled forward in the queue.

You could feel the eyes on the back of your neck as you forced your gaze to remain dutifully on the road, suppressing the nervous glances you wanted to throw behind you. Complete silence had fallen over the men in the back, even Watcher’s groans had hushed completely now as the severity of the situation seemed to bleed into every aspect of this oncoming confrontation. The only sound that you could hear was John as he mumbled something about the false wall behind you. Then there was the sound of something opening before it clicked securely back into place again. What in the hell were they doing back there? The question itched at the back of your mind as you struggled to keep yourself from looking behind, human curiosity in a situation like this could absolutely get you all killed.

Everything went silent again for a few more moments before the separator between the front and the back closed and you were completely alone. The hot, suffocating cubby completely cut off from you now, and yet the air out here was choking you more than the close quarters behind you had. It was as if you were back to that one man show you’d been so used to lately, and not a single part of you wanted to be there anymore.

Lifting your foot off the brake slowly, you listened as they squealed with protest at the movement, trying to refuse your request to roll forward. Too bad though, there was shit to do. Besides, it wasn't like you actually had a choice as the van continued to roll forward in the queue. Uniformed guards loitered around the roadblock seemingly devoid of sound as their attention shifted completely to the van. Your mind ran through the infinite list of dialects the man was about to throw at you, it of course had to be one you knew. They weren’t about to sit someone at the border without having someone they knew could communicate with everyone who came through here…Right?

One of the men, with his rifle on his shoulder and a frown set firmly on his mouth, made his way over to you. He lifted his hand and signaled to the window which you were quick to comply with as you rolled the window down and sent a prayer up to the God your mother had always told you was real. You’d do anything to just let this go smoothly, anything at all. Please God just don’t let us get thrown in some jail or get shot up in the back of this van. Just go smoothly.

The man was eyeing you carefully as he approached, words rolling off his tongue that you didn’t quite understand. There was a semblance to the languages you knew but it just didn’t make sense so you shook your head and his cautious gaze started to turn to suspicion as he asked in Farsi, “You can understand now?” You nodded in answer before he continued his line of questioning, “Where are you headed?” And so the game began, and you felt yourself beginning to relax into this. Enjoying it even.

Where the hell were you? On the road from Zabol to somewhere south of that. Just say a city, any city south of Zabol, Speck. Easy, “Zahedan,” you answered him and in turn earned the attention of another narrow eyed guard as the men inched closer. The car in front of you rolled off past the rest of the guards as they moved on from the checkpoint and drove off into the night. It was just you now, truly alone and with all the attention focused on what you were determined to make a masterful performance.

You could feel eyes as they traveled down your neck, fixing to the sight of the tight thobe around your shoulders and chest as he inspected you or at least he tried to, part of the darkness was still hiding the bits of you that didn’t quite make sense. His hand moved down to his hip and for a moment your hand tightened on the wheel, a flash of fear that he was about to pull a pistol on you despite the rifle still resting against his shoulder. And before you could even truly react a beam of light leveled at your face and blinded you for a moment.

The guard flicked the beam towards the rear end of the van before giving you an order that left no room for interpretation, “Unlock the back. We need to inspect what you’re transporting.” Immediately your hand moved to the button and the locks clicked, ‘Please have y’alls shit together, John. Please, please, please, please, please,’ a muffled noise came from just around your shoulder and you resisted the urge to look back. You wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway and it would only make you look even more suspicious than you already did.

“What is your business in Zahedan, Mr…?” He left the end of the question open as he continued to fix that narrow eyed gaze upon you. The beam of light blinding you as he kept it leveled at your eyes. Jesus man, you’d think he could at least let you see.

However you gave him as pleasant a smile as you could manage even though it was still tinged with a bit of annoyance, afterall who wouldn’t be, and answered as quickly as you could, “I’m just transporting some goods for the market there, sir. My boss needs it there by morning, it was a late order by one of the stall owners,” you glanced in the side mirror towards the back watching one guard disappear around the open doors.

A couple heavy bodies hopped inside, shaking the van as they moved objects around in the back. Their muffled voices came through the thin walls of the van as they inspected the pointless boxes in the back. Nothing they did though could compare to the way the van rocked violently and something shattered as you heard the contents of a stack of crates dump out and across the floor of the van.

The reaction you had was almost as genuine as it appeared. Your brows began to furrow and you gave the man at the window a look of indignance as you began to shift in your seat, even going so far as to curl your lip up. There were only a couple more seconds that you could take of the crates crashing down behind you and the goods spilling out. The threshold had been met and you scoffed and turned in the seat, your voice raising in what could have only been worry and stress, “Come on really? You cannot just break everything back there because you want to, I have a job to do and a boss to report to, same as you man.”

Dark eyes shot back to your face and you immediately flitted your own gaze away feigning submission to what was, in reality, one of the highest authorities you would have known. Sure you could be exasperated and frustrated with the way they searched the van but the last thing you needed was to bring about your own personal demise because you wanted to get all high and mighty now. Another crash and the muscles of your back tightened, your shoulder blades coming together as you bit the inside of your cheeks and remained as still as possible, still avoiding the eyes of the men currently standing outside your window.

Just keep acting normal Speck, as long as everything stayed quiet back there and they didn’t find the little latch you had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. You’d sail right on through this roadblock and be home in time for supper...Or really you'd be in time to save the young Scotsman currently fighting for every second of his slowly pumping heartbeats just behind you. After all, wasn't that all that really mattered right now?

The eyes of the man continued to bore into what felt like your very soul, and all you could do was refuse to stare back. You had to keep your head down and remain unremarkable for the sake of all of your lives. Being memorable, a “hero” was how people died and you were all too aware of that fact. Staying out of the way was your specialty, and you’d been doing it as long as you could remember. Much longer than you were willing to admit to anyone.

So keep it together, shoulder the burden for the good of the many. It was the only way you knew really. A hollow knock sounded behind you. Echoing through the cab of the van and amplifying, loud enough for even the man standing outside your window to hear. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his head tilt in…Confusion? Curiosity? Suspicion? Your hands tightened on the wheel as you fought to keep the moment of pure panic out of your facial expressions. Even a bit of fear slithering its way into this instinct driven part of your mind, ‘Do not turn around, turn around and they’ll know something is wrong. Eyes ahead and act normal. Do not turn around, Speck.’

The man at the window pursed his lips, still eyeing you carefully as he took another step closer and insisted, “I need a name.” A name? The fuck was a name? Your name? No, your name would get you killed. Fucking hell, why was it always something. Just gotta be on some other shit today, huh? Always gotta be something in this damn job, always fuckin somethin.

He wanted a name? Couldn’t live without one? Fine. Fuck it. “Kareem Abdul-Jabbar,” your eyes lifted to find a face absent of anything. Even the man behind him was quiet as they both stared at you with slowly narrowing eyes. Were you fucking stupid Speck? Jesus christ. That’s what you decided to go with? Anxiety prickled over your skin, raising goosebumps across the back of your neck and along your forearms. The already too tight thobe suddenly felt that much more tight, a vice around your body like a corset as it tried to cut off your dwindling supply of oxygen.

The commander, or the man who you assumed to be the commander, gestured with a flick of his chin to the man standing behind him. The pen in his hand scribbled quickly, and you followed the movements silently wishing you could read the movements of the pen and nervous that you would stick too readily in their minds. That they would remember this and you, that if anything went wrong you would be the first person they would point to. Then again did it really even matter? You should be long gone from this hellscape by the time they even turn that damn ledger in.

The van shook, rocked back and forth on its worn out shocks once and then twice. Muffled voices spoke what seemed so far away and yet like they were right over your shoulder. Discussing what though? What could they possibly have been saying? Was it about you? Had they found the latch and the rest of the team? What could you do even if they had? Question after question after question rattled around in your mind without a single answer even daring to try and enter. And then as quickly as they had begun they were cut off with the slamming of one door and then the next. Only a single thought remained, ‘Holy shit we actually did it.’

The commander glanced at the guard behind him who nodded and then looked to the men at the rear of the van. Again the voices reached your ears though they were devoid of meaning. Either a language you didn’t know or too quiet for you to truly make out. Slowly you turned your eyes from the road and the steering wheel in front of you to find the face of the Commander. In one quick movement the man turned back to you and nodded, “You’re free to go.” The tension in your back released immediately as you reached for the gear shift.

Throwing the van into gear you tossed the commander a quick nod, not bothering with a smile, hell the man had basically allowed the entirety of the back to be destroyed. He turned to look at the men blocking the road in front of you, illuminated by the headlights, and waved his hand yelling an order at them in another language you didn’t know. They were quick to lift the gate, following their orders, as you rolled forward slowly through the now opened blockade. The sounds of the tires over the asphalt crackling in your ears in a satisfying sound before you rolled the window back up.

Continuing on down the road you finally glanced in the mirror, watching the lights of the blockade disappearing behind the hills as you went. “Well that was fuckin close,” you muttered mostly to yourself, almost forgetting that there were a group of men separated by less than an inch of metal right behind your shoulder. The panel opened the moment you spoke and you glanced back to find an ocean blue gaze staring back at you, darkness surrounding him like a shroud. You were lost in those features for a moment, unable to pull away as your world whittled away to brunette locks and a full beard perfectly kept and straight out of the 70s.

At least until a huge gasp of air came from behind him and the both of you seemed to be shocked from your reverie. His dark brows knitted together and yours quickly followed suit in worried confusion. “What happened, what’s wrong?” Your question broke the assumed silence of voices, though as much as you needed to look behind you, you forced your eyes back to the road ahead. After all if you drove the van off into the ditch what would be the point of getting through that check point back there.

The Captain slid back into his seat before he glanced across the small space to the men on the other side. Muffled noises echoed around behind you, bouncing off the walls before they made their way to your ears. Someone was struggling. It wasn’t until John finally turned to find your gaze again that he shook his head as if to say absolutely nothing was wrong, it took only a second longer of your hardened gaze in the rearview mirror before he finally gave you a real answer, “The sedative wore off. Ghost took care of it.” You gave a slow nod in response and pulled over onto the shoulder of the road slowly, checking the mirrors to make sure there were no headlights headed your way.

You threw the van into park before you turned in your seat to look into the back and finally satisfy your curiosity. Gaz sat on the edge of his seat ready to slip through and take the wheel back and so the two of you did, trading places in a less than graceful motion as Gaz got the lot of you back on the road. The taqiyah was off your head in a moment before you handed it off to John and were forced to catch yourself against his shoulder as the van lurched forward unsteadily. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and another caught against your hip as he instinctively reached to steady you, blue eyes traveling up to your face with raised brown eyebrows resting just above them.

Warmth flooded into your face and you tensed at his touch even though you wished you could melt into him, thank him with a smile on your face. That wasn’t a possibility though, there were too many eyes on y’all right now. So instead you pulled away, untangling yourself from his grasp as you huffed out a quick, deflecting comment, “Good Lord this thobe is tight. Thought the seams were gonna pop before we got through that damn blockade. Hell felt like I couldn’t breathe in the damn thing.” You pulled at the hem feeling it catch under your arms as you tried to wriggle your way out of it. You couldn’t manage to get it off though as your elbows caught in the fabric and you froze, your shoulders moving painfully one way and then the other and yet still you remained frozen in this awkward shuffle of limbs.

Shit. Once again you made a subtle attempt to free yourself, shifting your shoulders and pinching at the fabric where you could just barely reach it before a defeated sigh left what had to be the very depths of your soul. You had to have looked like a big child standing there with your arms stuck above your head and fingers reaching desperately for an unattainable fabric, unable to even push it back down so you could just pretend like nothing happened. Another moment of dead silence passed and as your fingers began tingling ever so slightly you dropped them to the back of your head in defeat. Your elbows were still held aloft, pinched together painfully as you stared into the white fabric stuck around your head, arms, and chest like a binding. “Well…” You said aloud, following it quickly with a single declaration, “Shit.”

Soap’s laugh was nearly immediate, the escaping near giggles edging on becoming wheezes. You could imagine all the eyes that were probably staring at your hogtied form in the long, ankle-length thobe, and you could feel heat rising in your face and not the kind you had started to enjoy. Embarrassment welled up in your and you swore you even heard Konig let out a quiet murmur of amusement accompanied by the Lieutenant and Captain’s quiet snickering as they looked at your helpless visage in the near complete darkness of the little space. The only thing that made it all worth it was the small giggle of laughter you just barely caught from Watcher somewhere below you, hell you couldn’t see a damn thing around you but that little laugh just suddenly made the whole experience worth it.

A couple seconds of gawking at you and the quiet laughing before strong hands grabbed at your upper arms and you quickly lifted your hands back up in response. As your arms straightened the fabric drug across your skin, and as the collar stuck underneath your chin you shut your eyes and pulled free. It took a few blinks before your eyes readjusted to the dim light only to look back up at the smirking face of John Price who was already balling the fabric back up in order to shove it back into the bag he’d retrieved it from originally.

You couldn’t help but to follow his form for a few moments, eyes trailing over his features before you managed to tear your gaze away and find the others that were still left in the back. Ghost had Amaan shoved underneath his and Konig's legs underneath the makeshift wooden bench passed out once more, either from the big man choking him out or another sedative you weren’t completely sure though you doubted there was any sedative left. At least he seemed to be making a comfortable seat for Soap who was still sitting between Ghost’s knees so he had easy access to the young man who was taking shaky breath after shaky breath.

You situated yourself carefully back where you had been forced to vacate earlier as Gaz continued what now had to be a frantic drive back to base. "See,” you began as you leaned forward on one knee, “Yall are laughing now but I ain't heard not one of ya laughing when I was saving your asses five minutes ago from becoming POWs. Not a single peep," Soap had tears forming in his eyes as his quiet giggles turned slowly into silent wheezes. A quick glance around and you caught Gaz red handed with his phone resting on the steering wheel as it played the sight of you trying to get out of the thobe on repeat while somehow he was still managing to drive. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

Ghost, the last man you would have imagined would throw even more wood on this fire, was the first one to come back with a quick remark, "What the fuck does 'ain't' mean?" He did his best impression of an American accent, failing rather miserably as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting just above the short dark hair of his partner. Eyes were watching you with what you were almost positive was amusement though sadly it was covered up easily by the darkness that still enveloped the lot of you, not to mention the mask that still shrouded every feature but those striking eyes.

The question struck you like every mocking comment of your accent and where you were from had. Reaching up you pulled on your tac vest that John proffered you and began fumbling with the buckles, you shot him a quick glare and lifted your chin just before you did the same with your middle finger as you feigned anger, "Means fuck off skullface, how bout that?" He gave a light chuckle under his mask and you saw his head shake in the darkness as he leaned back once more, huge arms crossing over his chest. The big man wasn't the most talkative but at least he knew how to joke around, a worry you had been carrying up until this point.

Everything began to settle shortly after that, the giggles dying and the whispered comments quieting. Soap sobered back up as he went back to tending to Watcher the best he could, the latter grimacing as he searched for something to grab hold of with his free hand, the team’s medic packing his wounds with a fresh set of gauze and wrapping them up with bandages. The last bandages he was quick to inform the Captain about. Watcher’s lithe fingers tangled into Cerberus’ fur once again, and you watched as the dog seemed to settle in the attention while the corner of your mouth turned up in a small smile.

Gaz sat quietly in the front seat as he drove now, his phone long forgotten along with the video of your quiet struggling. In the meantime Konig had resumed his quiet vigil with his elbows resting on his thighs once more and the worry obvious in his taut frame and the way his leg bounced. As it always seemed to, your attention returned to the Brit who had found his place beside you once more.

You half-expected to see him watching Gaz in the front seat and helping to keep an eye on the road. Or at the very least watching the youngest Scot as he had the whole ride before now, as most of you had succumbed to doing since you’d loaded him into this van. Instead though he was sitting with his rifle laying across the top of his thighs, his hands holding it steady. That gaze though, those ocean hues were focused solely on you. The heat of it was pouring into you, raging like an inferno as it warmed your otherwise frozen limbs.

A quick dart of your gaze down to his lips and before you could return it to his eyes they had shifted just as he did next to you. His legs spread a bit wider and his knee knocked against yours, his gloved fingers sliding over the gun as he situated himself more comfortably on his seat. John’s warning was silent but clear and you were quick to acquiesce, turning your eyes away to find something else to distract your thoughts. The other men avoided looking at the both of you. Soap was much too busy, Konig much too worried, and Ghost just finding the idea of eye contact in such an enclosed space awkward at this point probably.

The rest of the drive seemed to inch along at a snail’s pace as the last of Soap’s blood bags began to run dry. No one else was able to give blood and so the countdown had begun on how long the boy truly had left. The smell of bloody bandages permeated the entirety of the enclosed space now and choked you in its distaste. It clogged your senses in the suffocating smell, churning your stomach with its odor. It was not quite metallic, not with this much coming from the cavity of his stomach. This smelt almost rotten in comparison. There was an itch to gag tickling at the back of your throat that you were fighting to suppress. It was taking every fiber of control not to let your nose wrinkle at the odor of all these men, and the blood, and the dog mingling together like the beginning of a terrible joke.

Overwhelmed. It was the only word that came to mind as to how you felt right now. You were losing yourself in the way it felt, the way the silence of the van’s small space dampened every sound as if Watcher were already dead. Even the smells seemed to think so. Your eyes slid down quickly to his hand still grasping desperately at Cerberus’ fur and the pain written on the young man’s face. Not dead. Not yet at least. He was certainly getting there though if Gaz didn’t hurry the hell up. You’d lost track of the time but you could see the first rays of light now coming through the front windshield.

Soon, you had to make it there soon. Right? Watcher had long since lost consciousness, his breaths coming shallow and shaky in slower and slower succession. You should have been there. He shouldn’t have breached that room at all, you had just taken too long with that woman and her child. It was always the children that gave you pause. Their wide eyed stares cut too deep and struck too hard. Watcher should be sitting where you were. Why was it always someone else paying for your incompetencies?

Brakes squealed and the van locked down, throwing the lot of you nearly off your seats. All except for Price who was on his feet before you knew what was happening while Ghost quickly followed suit. Your eyes darted back and forth between them as you stood hurriedly, searching their gazes for some kind of order. They all seemed to know what to do next without even speaking, meanwhile you were kept out of the loop. Completely disconnected from this hivemind they all seemed to have slipped into. A routine?

The back of the van opened sending a cascade of light into your eyes just as Laswell’s voice cut through the silence finally, “Let’s go boys, Feea already has everything ready to go. And Wade has the plane loaded, let’s be quick now.” Everything was already happening though, she had no need to ‘get them moving’. Quicker than you thought any of them could manage it, the men in front of you were tossing bags from one set of hands to the other. From John, to Gaz who was now at the tail end of the van, and up the ramp to the waiting blonde vampire you’d nearly killed however many days ago that was now.

Engines roared on the runway in front of you, ready to take off whether yall made it on or not from what you could see. What the fuck kind of operation was this? You’d heard stories of Price, you’d heard stories of the 1-4-1, but to have such ease in finding a plane home without all the paperwork? They just had planes and runways and whatever they needed at their disposal whenever and wherever they needed it to be. You wish you had that kind of pull, you wouldn’t have been in that market about to get yourself blown to high hell if you’d had that kind of pull.

John didn’t spare a glance over his shoulder as he headed out of the van, stepping down it looked like versus hopping out. Konig and Ghost had already knelt down to grab Watcher underneath his arms and knees as Soap shouted out something to Wade about supplies and such he needed for the boy. They had the young man out of the van before you even had a chance to react as Soap followed the both of them. Gaz hopped into the van then, reaching down to gather the Amaan’s limbs before he hauled him up as if he weighed nothing.

This was the end of it then. They were off to wherever the fuck, rest a recoup until their next orders were received and then they’d be off again. Of course this was the end of things, you’d gotten Amaan and that was the only reason John and his team were here to begin with. And now you would be back to living your life, whatever that meant anyway. You had no job, no orders, and no way to get back home. There was no life or money, but that was neither here nor there you’d figure it out eventually.

Cerberus was still laying down where he’d been as Watcher’s company. “Fuss,” you muttered and watched as the dog rose slowly, it was unlike him to be so…downtrodden? A bit of concern touched your thoughts until you realized just how long it’d been since he’d properly rested. Probably just tired, hell you were you suddenly realized as you stepped down out of the van with your gun still slung over your shoulder. You stretched out your abused body, weary from the traveling and the fighting. Your bones ached and seemed to creak with every movement, your muscles and joints screaming and pleading for mercy only to find none. Not even your mind would find a merciful quietness here.

John had forced himself into your life and wrecked you completely, body, mind, and soul. You hadn’t even been sure you had a soul until you’d met him. Now he was about to disappear from it again, just as quickly as he’d appeared in it. There and then gone at the drop of a hat to leave you wanting for more. Always wanting. Your eyes darted into the dark interior of the plane as you tilted backwards. Weariness had finally won over as your knees buckled against the bumper of the van and you took a heavy seat.

God you were tired. There was nothing left to give. The tank was empty as they say. Even Cerberus had spent every last bit of energy he had at this point. Non-stop working had that effect on everyone, dogs were no exception, not even him. Your fingers found themselves in the thick fur of his neck as he sat staring ahead just as you did, watching as Wade loaded the last of the team’s supplies onto the plane. The roar of its engines deafening as you witnessed the departure of yet another chapter of your life. Though you had to admit it was probably one of the happiest chapters, even if it was one of the shortest.

It was time to disappear back into the frays of society. Become the man who other people looked over with glazed eyes, as if you weren’t even really there. A shadow in their memories when someone tried to ask them what you looked like and the best answer they could give them was, ‘He was just a man.’ For a minute there you’d been memorable though, had a taste of what it was like to be seen by one of the…No not one of the, there was only one John Price. He and his team were gonna be hard to move on from, him most of all.

Your eyes slid down to the dog sitting beside your knee then, running the tips of your fingers over the top of his head to ground yourself before you stood. Casting a last long glance up at the plane you were done, ready to walk away. As ready as you’d ever be anyway. Prepared to free these men of the curse that hung around you like death’s shrouded veil, one that had already struck poor Watcher.

He saw you. Of course he did, he had since those nights in the bar. He saw everything, for Christ's sake it was his job. Blue eyes pierced you through the heart from the top of the plane’s ramp as the two of you remained completely still. For once you weren’t nestled into the background of a painting barely warranting a single stroke of the brush. To him you were the artist’s whole subject, the one thing they had set out to capture. The one thing John had set out to capture.

There was one thing that man didn’t need to do though, he’d had you from the first day you saw him and not even you had known it then. He was your everything and it didn’t matter about anything else in life because he was all you needed. Hell he was all that you wanted.

You watched as he jerked his chin, beckoning you silently with both his eyes and his actions. The man before you didn’t need words, it wasn’t like either of you were poets with them anyway. It was as if the exhaustion and weariness in your body dissipated the moment he was back in your line of sight.

Pushing yourself off the bumper of the van you started forward, watching the corner of his mouth turn up in the smallest of smirks. He turned back inside the plane as you started up the ramp. You crested the top of the ramp Cerberus at your side and the moment you did it began to close behind you, the sound harsh on your ears and even worse than the engines in your opinion.

He had been waiting for you. An unexpected yet welcome thought, John had wanted you to come just as much as you’d been begging to follow. You slid past Wade with a satisfied glint in your eyes, barely glancing at him for a moment as he secured everything under cargo nets. Crossing over the empty space of the plane you made your way towards the rest of the team, stopped only by someone clearing their throat beside you.

Your focus darted to the perpetrator and you took in the blonde woman staring back at you. Confident and above you, above everyone to be fair, it was safer for her that way and so much easier. That was something you could understand. “Ma’am?” Your drawl slipped into the word as you watched her, your brows drawing closer together in your confusion as to why she would want your attention.

Laswell’s face remained stubbornly neutral as she looked the two of you over, a man and his dog. As normal as it got, just about anywhere in the world you would find similar combinations. The most memorable thing about you was Cerberus but even he could blend in under the right circumstances. “I have an opportunity for you, Speck. If you’re interested anyway.” Slowly you gave a nod, hesitating only a moment before you remembered if it involved her that it probably would involve John as well. “Good, how would you like a job?”

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Sorry it took me so long yall, I have been sick af and with school starting back it is kicking my ass. Gotta love them STEM degrees, know what I mean?

Part 12

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 18.3k

Synopsis: Who said Price gotta be the Captain all the time? I am so sorry in advance

Warnings: NSFW 18+ smut, blood, canon typical violence

Darkness swallowed the team as everyone jostled against one another in the back. Well, almost everyone. Price and Gaz had both taken up positions in buildings on the North and South sides of the building in their individual sniper’s nest. Fuckin snipers. You had to stop yourself from snickering at the thought of the two of them laying on the floor the past day as if they were statues. It couldn’t be comfortable, that was for sure.

You stopped yourself though, sniffing as you reached up to wipe at your nose and look around the dark compartment of the van. Konig was sitting next to you on the bench the team had apparently earned after your last successful mission. It certainly made the ride more comfortable as Watcher navigated through the darkened and ghostly quiet streets outside. The terrible thunderstorms overhead were the cause of it this time, and just as the thought crossed your mind a strike of lightning flashed just over Konig’s head where you could just barely see the windshield of the van. His dark hood was hanging loose as he leaned forward between the front two seats to whisper quietly with the young man who was driving, deep in conversation as he took another turn.

Meanwhile Soap and Ghost sat on the bench across from y’all. The bigger man had his knife out as he meticulously, or rather obsessively, honed the edge to a razor-like finish. His black gloved finger ran over the spine of the knife, catching on the serrations that were closer to the hilt before his gaze shot up to find you. The man truly had a sixth sense and it was beyond freaky now. Hazel eyes narrowed into slits as he caught you staring, a smattering of thoughts were undoubtedly going on behind that sharp gaze, before Soap captured his attention completely by tapping his knee against Ghost’s and whispering something into the other man’s ear. The Ghost-whisperer it would seem for he had tamed the wild beast in front of you with merely a touch and a couple words.

The big one certainly had his death stare mastered though, good lord. Your head shook subtly as you suppressed a shiver before you shifted back along the bench and leaned forward with your rifle laying across your thighs while Cerberus laid underneath the bench right beneath you. His nose knocked against your calf as he lifted his head to find your gaze, a slight tilt to it as he expected some command to come from you. There was nothing to tell him right now, not yet anyway. When no order came though the Dutch Shepherd’s tongue lolled for a moment until you reached down to run your fingers over his brindle fur. You could feel the weight of his head as it pressed into your palm for a quick moment. His head fell back to his paws a moment later and you leaned back into the wall of the van as you took a deep breath.

This drive was becoming anxiety inducing as another wheel dipped into a pothole and the thunder rumbled overhead. It felt almost like something was coming to a head, like the crescendo of a song was nearing and you could feel the melody of it in your very soul. The vibrations of an orchestra in the strings of energy that surrounded you and had you sitting on the edge of your seat even as you actively tried to calm yourself down, breathing as deep as you could.

Why was this making you so nervous anyway? You’d gone after plenty of the worst this world had to offer. Amaan was so far from tipping the scales of lecherous actions you’d been witness to that it wasn’t even funny. Hell you’d been right next to the fucking Admiral on that bastard’s worst days. Even on his good days Amaan was far from the worst in comparison to that demon. Al-Mustafa could have been a fucking angel when he was standing next to him, and yet here you were having to actively stop your knee from bouncing while also forcing yourself to put on the persona that was Speck. Not yourself, but the man you were expected to be in this situation. The operator. Master Chief. Your role.

Suddenly the answer to your question hit you like a slap in the face. Back then, when you had been faced with the Admiral, his heinous crimes, and your own very obvious mortality, you’d had nothing to lose. Everything you’d worked for had been stripped from you and your decisions and past had left you devoid of anything to care for. Your family, your job, your home, every cent to your fucking name had been thrust into the incinerator and you’d lost it at the drop of a hat.

Everything had changed now, you had someone, something, to stay alive for and to come back to. It was going to cloud your judgment. You knew that all too well. Hell it already had been affecting your judgment over the past days that you had been digging yourself deeper and deeper into the trench that was Captain John Price. It would only get worse from here on out and you found that the little voice that always told you not to get attached was surprisingly silent.

John Price was an addiction that even your subconscious would forever be unable to shake. You were bound and determined that the only thing that could tear you from him at this point was death itself and you’d put up a fight with any god or ferryman who came after you. Death had, had his chance to take you once before and he’d fucked it up. That fucker wasn’t getting you any time soon if you had anything to say about it. Besides who wouldn’t fight for those beautiful blue eyes and that endearing smirk when he knew he had you right where-

Stop thinking about him, Speck. There was a fucking job to do. Slowly you found your eyes turning to your left where the seat on the bench next to you sat empty. Where he would have been if it wasn’t for the fact he was already in position. A part of you was already missing him and it hadn’t even been that long. You craved the way his calloused fingers slid along your arm, the way his lips felt pressed against yours. The way his striking blue eyes pierced your very soul as he looked down at you with sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. Those quiet words of praise falling from between his lips, amongst other, dirtier words that had your cheeks warming in an instant even now as you sat in the back seat of the van.

A hard shove against your shoulder nearly pushed you sideways on the bench as you blinked a few times and your eyes focused on the other men around you. “You’re listening, ja?” You could almost see the raised eyebrows beneath the hood, the way his forehead creased sometimes when he only had his facemask on. Price’s forehead had lines like that, though his were a bit deeper and a bit more mature in appearance whenever his brows furrowed. Oh and the way the corners of his eyes creased whenever he smiled and made his typically serious face a bit more hospitable when he looked at you.

Fuck, Speck, would you pay attention? “Yes sir, I’m listenin’,'' your accent slipped out as you tried to pull yourself out of your foggy thoughts. You caught the attention of the other two men sitting in the back of the van as well as the southern twang lilted into your words. A moment of distraction and a shard of your past revealed, though they may have been jokesters and enjoyed a good laugh that in no way meant that they were stupid. They paid attention and they noticed the smallest of details, it was in fact what made all of you so great in the field.

Not a word was spoken though…Thankfully. Your past, your heritage, wasn’t exactly something you liked to advertise, it could ruin the idea of who you were. What you were. The idea that you were a chameleon would disappear in a cloud of smoke if they really started to hear that twang that was hidden so well in your voice. Or so you always told yourself anyway.

Ghost grunted out a quick, “We’re a minute out,” as he stood up from his and Soap’s bench. Shit you’d lost track of the time. You quickly followed suit as you stood up and pulled a magazine out of the tac vest before sliding it into the magazine well. It took only a quick pull of the charging handle to chamber a bullet from the magazine and you glanced quickly towards where Ghost was already unlatching the panel that had closed you all into the back. “Thirty seconds,” his voice rasped out into your ear as the van slowed to a stop and Watcher shut the panel between the front seats.

You clipped Cerberus’ lead on before you did a quick check of his gear, tightening the straps on his harness that wrapped underneath his belly. A moment later you joined the other three men at the two back doors. When the lock clicked on the outside the door opened a second later and Ghost jumped down beside the small ginger. The rest of y’all followed close behind the big man with Watcher bringing up the rear. The door shut behind you, though you couldn’t hear it over the pounding of the rain as the storm was raging around you now. You moved behind Konig with Soap on your left beside you.

The four of you lined up on either side of the door with Cerberus between your legs as you kneeled at Konig’s back and watched your side of the dark alley. The dog’s eyes were locked on you, you could feel their gaze as he awaited whatever command you were going to give him or even something as simple as if you were going to move. Watcher moved by you before he stopped to stand in front of a keypad and he plugged something into it. You could just barely hear him as he whispered something to himself and his mic picked it up, along with the sound of him typing numbers into the door’s lock.

It took a few moments before anyone finally started to move and when they did you weren’t surprised by the perpetrator in the slightest. A snort came from somewhere behind you though you heard it clearly in your ear just before a Scottish voice muttered under his breath, “Yer no singing right now are ye? Ye do know we’re in a bit a fuckin’ hurry, right?”

Just as fast as the questions slipped out of Soap’s mouth the quiet muttering stopped as well as the sounds of the young man pressing the buttons, both of them seeming to be distracrted by the other in this tense moment. Rain muted the sounds of shifting from behind you as you forced yourself to stay focused on the alley in front of you and not fall victim to the teasing these two were leveling at one another. “Aye, I am ye bastart. Ye can’t do any better, trust me we hear yer howlin’ every time we try to take a fuckin’ shower,” your brows lifted at the quiet words that came out of the smaller Scotsman. It wasn’t so much the words that had surprised you but the one who had said them.

Up until this point Watcher had been nothing but a sweet, innocent- as innocent as anyone on this team could be anyway -young man who might have seemed a bit too young but it wasn’t like he had ever seemed incapable, quite the opposite in fact. Watcher had been quiet maybe whenever everyone else was around, but never did he seem like the type to mouth off in the way he was now. Especially not to someone who was technically his superior even if Soap didn’t act like it sometimes. There were intricacies to the relationships in this team that you still hadn’t quite grasped it seemed.

“Well get on with it then Freckles, we don’t have all bloody night. It’s pishin’ it doon oot here,” you could hear the smile in his voice just before Ghost let out an exasperated sigh behind you directed at what you assumed to be both of the Scotsmen who were very nearly about to go at it in this fuckin alley if the annoyed huff from Watcher was anything to go by.

It didn’t seem either of them cared too much about the fact that rain was currently pouring down on y’all in fuckin buckets. It had soaked through your clothes nearly the moment you’d stepped out of the van and your equipment had been right behind it seconds later. There was no doubt in your mind if they kept it up, even your waterproof boots were going to give way to the torrential downpour overhead and you hated the feel of wet socks. That wasn’t even mentioning how bad Cerberus was gonna be stinking after this operation.

Just before the tension broke and shit hit the fan though a deep voice came over your ear piece. Deep, smooth, calm, and authoritative, “ETA on your entry, Bravo 0-7.” It was a question yes, including the little lilt up of his voice at the end, but it sounded more like an order coming from that man. Most things in your experience did, you weren’t about to complain about it though.

Without thinking about it the corners of your mouth turned up in a small smile. A rush that wasn’t adrenaline for once, but instead was happiness. A feeling you were beginning to grow a bit more accustomed to after so long without it. You stayed quiet though as Watcher answered the silent question in a hushed tone, “Fifteen seconds.” Ghost quickly relayed the answer before everyone went silent once more. There was a hollow grunt from Ghost who seemed like he was about to say something more but he instead elected to leave it alone once Watcher continued on with whatever it was he was doing. Best not to distract the young man anymore than he obviously already was.

Before Price could speak again the more feminine voice of Laswell came through the ear pieces, obviously broadcasted to the whole team, “Be advised there are two unknowns nearing your location. I estimate thirty seconds before they are on you. You need to get inside the building. Do not alert any guards. I repeat, do not alert any guards. We don’t know what is inside that building.” Your hands tightened instinctively on the weapon as you shifted and your knee dug further into the grime of the alleyway as rain water flowed down the paved road by you.

Watcher behind you was still doing whatever it was he was good at in an attempt to get y’all inside before shit hit the fan. No one said a word for fear it would tip the scales out of your favor too soon and y’all waited quietly on bated breath to get the clear from the ginger to breach. Again an American voice broke the silence as Laswell updated the team, “Fifteen seconds. Your side of the alley Speck.” Your hand shot down to the dog still lying between your legs as you quickly assured yourself that he was still lying on his belly there, as if he could move with the lead still clipped on him.

Both you and Cerberus were tense with anticipation, the only thought in your mind being ‘Don’t let this op go sideways already. It’s too fuckin soon.’ Just as the words played through your mind though water splashed up beside you as Watcher backed up to stop beside you and shove the items in his hand into a small pack at his hip and readied his weapon. Your focus however stayed on the end of the all even as the door opened behind you.

Footsteps, muted by the torrent, sounded off behind you as the other cleared into the building in quick succession. Laswell’s voice was counting down quietly in your ear as the men filed in behind you as quickly as they could. There was a light tap on your shoulder and your eyes darted up to find Watcher just as the young man hurried away from you and inside. You stood and shuffled backwards with Cerberus who backpedaled along with you until you turned into the doorway and Konig shut the door behind you.

Silence buzzed in your ears until the soft sounds of droplets of water hitting the floor found your ears. Your ears adjusted quickly to the lack of the noise as you looked around the dark entryway that you found yourself in. It was like the building was light and soundproof despite you knowing better. Or at least you knew what the building specs had revealed, who knew what was really going on in this fucking building though. No plan, no matter how amazing, survived a battle.

The illusion of the building being sound and lightproof dissipated in a moment though as the sound of rain hitting the roof sounded somewhere above you. While outside the darkness of the storm was interrupted by flashes of lightning that managed to illuminate the hallway though it was only for a few moments. It was just long enough though for you to see Soap at the end of the hallway and his gun pointed into the darkness with Watcher covering the other corner. Both men were holding their respective angles on anyone who might come down the hallway.

A second later there was a strike of thunder that seemed to rattle the walls around you and also aided to ruin the illusion of sound deprivation, feeling more like an earthquake instead of a storm that was miles overhead. There was still no sound from the team though, even as Konig dropped his night vision into place much like the rest of the team had already done, you were just now noticing. A moment later Ghost finally broke the dead silence as his voice sounded over all the comms, “We’re inside. IR beacons on now Captain,” you reached up a hand to drop your own night vision into place. You reached to the back of your helmet then to turn the IR beacon as well and then Cerberus’ on the back of his vest as Ghost spoke.

It took a second before you heard Price answer in that calm, soothing tone that was all business and formality in the middle of this mission. And despite yourself it had the hair on your arms standing up in response, “Good copy Lieutenant, eyes on.” The big man didn’t bother to answer him and instead he moved up behind Soap as he took a second to survey both sides of the dark hallway.

The masked face turned back to find you as his hand came up and he directed you to follow up behind Konig and Watcher. The moment you gave him a nod he tapped Soap on the shoulder and the two men slipped silently around the corner. Stealth was your friend, at least for now, and was the only thing keeping the local law enforcement off of y’all and the rest of the building quiet as you moved through the building. Just one quick hand motion and Cerberus was out from between your legs as he came to rest at your right hip instead. Stepping up behind Konig you gave him a light tap on the shoulder and watched him mirror the same action on the young man’s before the three of you slipped around the corner and off down the hallway.

Watcher stopped at the first room as he opened the door quietly and his lean form moved with graceful, quiet speed you hadn’t seen from many. As you continued moving you found yourself appraising the skill with which he cleared the room, despite the fact that you knew it wasn’t actually your job to do so. To be so young it seemed he was well enough trained, maybe not as quick or experienced as the rest of the team but you had your suspicions that most of his skills lied elsewhere. Not necessarily just another jarhead with half a brain to throw into the fray when you needed bodies.

Quickly though you and Konig moved past the room as you watched the hallway behind and Konig the hallway and stairs up ahead. It took only a few seconds before the sharp features of his pale face reappeared in the doorway and you turned to tap Konig as the three of you continued on down the hall. Approaching the second door that branched off the hallway you heard a low rumble come from your right and you hurriedly reached forward to tap the taller man in front of you on the shoulder. He paused for just a moment before he too heard the low rumble just behind him and he gave a stiff nod.

A quick hand gesture and the rumble stopped as Konig lined up on the side of the door before checking to make sure it was unlocked. When he looked back you were quick to give him a single nod as he returned his attention to the door and pushed inside. You didn’t catch what happened in the first moment. All you could see was Konig’s large body that seemed to swallow the nearest hostile as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and drug him to the side against the wall, as out of the way as the Austrian could get. You stepped inside in the next moment as you listened to the muffled sounds that came from the man that Konig was fighting to put to sleep.

The wide eyed face of a young man, you’d wager to guess even younger than Watcher, came around the corner in a flash. You barely had enough time to register the fear that had grown there. All you could see was the thought that he was in too deep, that his time had come even as he reacted in his own defense nearly as quickly as you. The silhouette of a handgun began to rise in what felt like slow motion in front of you. Instinct carried you forward as your right hand shot forward as quick as the strike of lightning that flashed outside and blinded you for just a moment. You didn’t need to be able to see though now that you had your hands on him.

Just as quickly as your sight was taken it returned in the midst of your next strike. His trachea slammed into your thenar web and you could feel the way it began to give way beneath the force of the blow. Dark eyes bugged at the sudden contact and immediately the gun in his hand dropped, a metallic clack echoing around the walls as it hit the ground, and he reached for his throat while he struggled to catch his breath.

In the next moment his throat was trapped between your forearm and bicep while his hands clawed fruitlessly at your arms. Nails dug into the fabric of the long sleeved, black shirt that clung to your torso and arms like a second skin. When that didn’t seem to work a primal instinct began to take over that few could have suppressed, and part of you would have gone so far as to say not a soul alive could have fought that urge down.

It was a desire to survive, to continue dwelling in this cruel world that every creature walking this planet had. His sharp elbows drove back into your ribs and you couldn’t help the quiet grunt that he drove from your lungs. The young man’s mouth opened wide in a scream that he couldn’t quite get out but damn did he try. You could even feel the muscles of his neck as they flexed beneath your forearm. A quiet hum passed through your lips as the wild and struggling actions slowly began to ebb into the hazy last ditch efforts to get away. Futile attempts but the human brain responded the only way it knew how, remove the threat and get away from it. Even if the brain knew it could never hope to accomplish that task.

As the fingers around your forearm loosened your gaze darted towards Konig across the room who was lowering the other man to the ground before he turned to find you. Cerberus was still standing idly beside you while his chocolatey eyes stared up at you with reverence as if you didn’t have a man currently struggling in your arms. When the other’s arms finally started to fall back to his sides you took a step back to lower him to the ground before he slumped to the floor and you stepped over his body to join Konig where he’d moved back towards the door. A single tap on the tall man’s shoulder and he stepped outside with Watcher as y’all continued on down the hallway.

Like a well-oiled machine you cleared every small room on the first floor and rotated with one another all the way to the stairs. As you cleared the final room on your side of the hallway, Ghost's voice rumbled through the ear piece, “Clearing the second floor now. Team three clear the third floor.”

You exited the room with a tap on Konig’s shoulder as the man answered back, “On the way up now.” He released the button on his mic before he whispered just loud enough to hear, “On you, Watcher.” The young man didn’t hesitate even for a moment before he mounted the first step on his way up. His head tilted up as he watched the top of the landing, taking the steps carefully as he went, doing everything in his power not to make a noise. Not a single shot fired so far and the guards weren’t alerted, hell this was going far better than any of y’all had dared to anticipate.

“Be advised, one just left his room on the second floor…” the man paused before continuing with an edge of nervous anticipation in his tone, “No clear shot on my end. He's approaching the stairwell on the north side of the building,” the Brit’s voice reached your ears though it wasn’t that of the man from before. This one was a couple octaves higher and missing the rough tone you loved so much. Watcher stilled on the stairs in response, just barely in front of Konig about halfway up the first flight of stairs. You couldn’t help but cast a nervous glance back the way you had come like you’d just assured y’alls mutual destruction by just daring to think positively for once.

A low rumble began in the dog’s chest that you silenced immediately with a quiet gesture of your hand. Konig took one more cautious step forward to come shoulder to shoulder with the comically shorter man just before a face came into view at the top of the stairs. Your stomach dropped as the middle-aged man froze with his fingers tangled through a long, dark beard. It took a moment for him to process what he was seeing, to register that y’all were the enemy and his life was in danger. The man tried to scream, he really did. At least he made the most honest attempt he could. His mouth opened and he tried to take a step back and turn. He put every muscle into action in order to take off back down the hall, probably to find someone, but his fate was never to walk down that hall again.

He didn’t even get the chance to turn his head all the way back around before a flash came from the end of Watcher’s barrel and then Konig’s. Blood sprayed the wall behind him as the light faded from his eyes and his body began to go limp. It would take a second for his body to realize that the brain had ceased to respond. No loud bangs echoed off the walls though, suppressors kept the sounds quiet especially with the cracks of thunder still sounding off overhead.

Your shoulders tensed as you watched his body tilt forward towards the two men and he began to fall down the stairs. Without even really thinking about it the two men in front of you stepped forward simultaneously. The weight of the now deceased man hit their shoulders as they let his body lay softly against the stairs before they continued up and you followed right behind them. Avoiding the blood pooling onto the steps and the body that laid there now.

Watcher lifted his gun to inspect the dark hallway for only a second before his eyes returned in front of him and the two men in front of you continued on with that same slow and careful step that you all had been using since you left the van. Again the two men started up the stairs together as you brought up the rear of the group, Cerberus still steady at your side, a rock in this tide of uncertainty. As the three of you crested the top of the stairs two shots fired off back the way you had come. Fuck.

Voices rose in a flurry from the floor below as Ghost’s deep voice growled into your ear, “We’re compromised.” Yeah, no shit.

“Time to clean house lads,” Soap’s voice cut him off, sounding strained as more shots fired off from somewhere below.

More voices began to rise like a chorus from behind the closed doors of the third floor before lights flipped on overhead and blinded each of you with the nightvision. You scrambled desperately to pull the goggles up even as startled shouts hit your ears and you tried to adjust your eyes with a couple quick blinks. Bullets flew past you, slamming into the walls behind you before you heard the quieter pops of either Watcher or Konig’s rifles firing. When you could finally focus your eyes a man was lying dead a few feet in front of you and further down the hall one was coming out of another room.

Watcher was just getting his night vision goggles up while Konig was turning back to check on the both of you. His eyes landed on the ginger first before turning his green gaze to you. Cerberus’ jaws opened in a thunderous bark as a crack of thunder sounded just outside, though you had to admit the dog was easily loud enough to compete with it. All thought stopped though as you watched the door in front of you fly open. You were almost certain you could feel every muscle go rigid in response, a moment of hesitation that would undoubtedly be your undoing.

A figure peeled around the corner that Konig had missed in his worry. You tried to lift your gun but there wasn’t enough time. You could see from here, in this slowed down, distorted version of time, that he was going to beat you to pulling the trigger. That was before glass shattered somewhere ahead of you and the man fell with a hole in the side of his head. Your gaze darted around to find the source of the shot, but Konig was helping Watcher to his feet so it wasn’t one of you. Then John’s voice rumbled in your ear in a tone that was nearly a growl, “He’s down. Get al-Mustafa. That’s an order.”

Your eyes darted to where Konig was already moving forward with Watcher hurrying after him. There was no time to waste now that your cover had been blown. Konig shoved his way into the first door on his right and disappeared inside as you moved to catch up with the other two. You reached a hand down to check on Cerberus as the big dog moved at your side and you continued on past the door to follow Watcher. By the time the shorter man was pushing in to clear the next room Konig was coming up behind you to give you a light tap on the shoulder and you crossed the hall to the next door.

A hard shove inside with your shoulder and it started to give way only to come to a jarring halt as it slammed into something solid which was currently refusing to budge on the other side. Your brows furrowed then before someone shoved at the other side and the door slammed hard into your chest. A quiet curse fell out of your mouth as you took a step back and glanced Konig’s way as he pushed into the room next to yours easily enough while Watcher continued on down the hall past you and towards the last door already. Do not ruin the rhythm, Speck. Don’t be that fucker, get your shit together.

Get it together, get it together, finish this so you can get everything back to normal. Unclipping Cerberus’ lead you took a breath before you stepped forward and your boot collided with a door. The force cracked the wood which might as well have been paper thin at this point as it flew inward. Curses sounded from inside the room as you forced it the rest of the way open with a hard slam of your shoulder. When it finally gave in to the force you felt your teeth jar just before you caught sight of furrowed brows and the barrel of a gun rising your way.

Time was short but the distance between the two of you was shorter. Your gun slipped from your grasp as you shot forward and grabbed his wrist with one hand. You slammed it against the wall with enough force to make the wall shudder beneath it as you slipped further into his guard. The gun smacked against the wall uselessly as you did, your arms straining to maintain control with one hand around one wrist and the fingers of your other hand wrapped tight around the other.

The man growled out more than a few curses in Pashto as he tried to force you back through the door. Even as you held his arms wide and the gun away from your chest he still seemed only to be worried about keeping you out and away. It was like he was trying to get rid of you even as the sounds of gasps echoed from further within all in the span of a few seconds. All of the noises from within quickly turned into cries and sobs as you let your grip slip ever so slightly to wrap your hand around the barrel of the gun and force it from the man’s hand. It only took another half second to flip it around in your palm and shove it into the center of his chest.

When you pulled the trigger the sound would have nearly deafened you if not for the headphones over your ears. The bang bounced off the walls around you as the man fell to the ground and you turned without thought to find the source of the noises from before. The man��s dead body was irrelevant now and you had no more attention you needed to pay it. Your eyes darted down towards the woman and the little girl she now held wrapped in her arms and as hidden from your sight as she possibly could be. Her face locked you into place as you immediately remembered the way she had looked so confused and pleading at you the last time you had seen her. Your jaw tensed and Cerberus whined at your side, sensing the way your mood immediately changed from business to uncertainty.

She had been at the other compound, you’d sent her directly back into the fray with the foolish hope that her mother would get her out of here, out of this life. Really it had been more like the hope that she could get out there. However even as you watched her you realized there was no recognition behind those eyes. This was the same little girl you had gone out of your way to speak to and she didn't even remember your face, and for some odd reason it made you muscles tighten in response. You were so used to people not remembering you, hell it was why you could do what you did, but you’d spoken to this girl. Killed another man right in front of her. Yet there she was not even realizing the deja vu you should have been causing her at this exact moment.

God you were getting sensitive lately, it was truly becoming pathetic as nearly everything was altering the course of your thoughts. You couldn’t think about that right now Speck, you’d come here for a reason and you had so much more to deal with than a child you didn’t even know. The reason you were here was somewhere else in this building, it wasn’t this little girl and her mother. Amaan was the cause of this girl’s suffering and you had a chance to stop that tonight. He was the reason that all of you were even here. The reason that you all had to be in this place with a dead man behind you and a woman and child who were begging quietly for their lives in front of you. Yet you hadn’t even gotten confirmation of an ID on him to prove he was even in this building.

Glancing towards the door you took half a step forward and leveled the barrel of the gun at the woman. Even as you did it though you felt the finger you had resting against the trigger freeze. You couldn’t kill unarmed combatants, and especially not a child. Not here and not now. Son of a bitch, you bit the inside of your cheek and glanced back at the door once before turning back to the two and growled out a quiet threat in Farsi, the only hope you had of keeping them alive and seeing this through to the end, “Do not move, do not leave. Try to leave and you will be shot. Stay here until we are gone and do not make a noise, do you understand?”

The mother’s eyes glanced at the man on the ground behind you before looking into your eyes once more as she pulled her daughter closer and then gave a few quick nods of understanding. You watched as the mother and Jasra disappeared into the small closet in the room and the door closed behind you as you left the room with a clipped, “Fuss.” The second you turned the corner though and started towards where you knew the other two would be clearing the final room another round of shots rang out through the third floor.

“FUCK,” the Scottish voice yelled out as he fell back around the door frame and his hands reached for his side. Too good, things never went this smoothly and you never should have let yourself believe that it would. You closed the distance in a flash though Konig was there a step before you, speaking words in German that you didn’t understand. His hand shot to grab a hold on the young man’s vest as he pulled him further away from the door. You didn’t stop to afford Watcher that same level of concern, not when the person who had done the shooting could have come out of the room at any moment, besides Konig could handle any first aid better than you could.

Slipping inside the final room you slid around the corner gun first as you came face to face with al-Mustafa who was standing securely behind his two wives with his arms wrapped around both of their necks. He had one hand wrapped around the grip of the pistol as he held it to one of their heads. Your eyes searched them carefully, analyzing and planning in the matter of a moment. There was no way you could fire off a shot and hope to kill the other man before he killed one of these two women though. Again time was short and you didn’t exactly have much time to figure out a way to get through this situation.

Especially not when you could hear the two men outside the door and you were already having to fight to turn off the side of your mind that held the worry and fear for the young man outside the door and everything that could possibly go wrong. Doubly so when you heard Konig’s voice in your ear piece, “Watcher has been shot. Soap, get up here now.” You didn’t flinch, you couldn’t, you were in the middle of a stare-off with a true piece of shit and you knew whoever flinched first was going to lose this match.

The ensuing chaos on the mic nearly broke you but it was still secondary as you continued to watch al-Mustafa. “Come on Amaan, there’s no reason for this. Just come with us,” play your role Speck, like maybe you wouldn’t have put a bullet in his head given the first chance. God you wanted to though, you wanted to kill him more than you’d wanted to kill anyone else before in your life. Your words, which had come out in Farsi, seemed to be a cause of confusion for Amaan though that lasted only a moment before he dismissed your presence as a whole in favor of searching for a way out from behind his two body shields.

There was fear that was evident in both of the women’s eyes and even though you couldn’t see it you knew that sweat was beginning to dot their brows as they watched the end of your gun rather than you. They were both expecting to meet their end one way or another tonight. You need to break that bastard’s concentration, your eyes darted down to the dog at your side who was a steady rock at your side. “Gib laut,” you mumbled to which Cerberus responded with a series of thundering barks directed at the man still searching for a way to get out.

The tension was instantly palpable in the room, the barks served to keep the other man on edge, no respite for the adrenaline fueled panic you knew was currently flowing through his system. Good, the last thing you needed was a terrorist with a fucking plan. “I don’t have a line of sight into the room, Captain, how about you,” Gaz’s voice came through your ear piece and you barely even had the chance to glance at the walls of the room to realize that there were no windows except for the one on the south side of the building.

Of course there weren’t, nothing could ever be that easy huh? It took a moment for Price to answer as well though you didn’t need to hear his answer to know what it would be. Still you enjoyed hearing his voice as he growled out in what you were beginning to learn was frustration, “Negative. Konig status report on Watcher.”

The Austrian was doing his best to hide his worry but it was painfully obvious as he answered, “Two gsw’s, one to the abdomen the other to the thigh, his plates caught the rest. Soap, where are you!?” You could hear the man outside without the need of his mic as his voice rose in what was nearing panic. The worst part about it though were the quiet grunts of pain that the young man was doing his best to choke down. However, as much as he was trying it wasn’t working too well as your imagination painted a vivid picture of Watcher leaking blood all over the hallway. With Konig’s huge hands pressing desperately over two flooded wounds as he tried to staunch the bleeding.

For the love of God, drown it out Speck, focus on the problem in front of you before you get yourself killed, idiot. You blinked once as you tried to push the thoughts into the back of your mind and forced al-Mustafa came back into your forethoughts. Your eyes caught sight of the women’s fear again, their gazes darting towards the door on their left and then back to you. Amaan’s eyes were everywhere but, his gaze was instead now drawn to the escape route he had planned out for himself. A flash of lighting struck outside followed by a series of three more strikes that you struggled not to let yourself get blinded by and instead keep your eyes on the man you were actually here for.

In the next moment though the power flickered and then everything went dark. Son of a bitch this shit needed to make up its fucking mind. Again shots rang out just before glass shattered as you hurried to flip down your night vision once more. When you finally managed to see what had happened the scene in front of you made your shoulders tense in response. A small pit settled in your stomach as you stared down at the floor.

One of the women was lying dead on the ground, the place where the bullet had gone through and left a hole in her skull covered by the headwear she wore. The other woman, presumably her sister, was reaching for and cradling her head as she drug the limp corpse into her lap. Sobs racked her body as she did and when the door to their left opened you lifted your gun instinctively at whoever was coming through. When three young girls quickly ran to their mothers in the dark though you felt that pit beginning to widen. Especially as you caught sight of the blood already soaking into the rug on the floor.

Holy shit. You let the barrel of the gun lower slowly before you reached up to the radio attached to your vest and spoke quickly, “One of the wives is dead, Amaan killed her. He’s gone, but I can still get him, Captain.” Silence took over the line as the sound of a second Scottish voice entered the hallway from a distance. Your mind was anywhere but the three men now outside the door though, you had other things to worry about.

You took a quick step up onto the bed and moved over it to the now opened window. Glancing out quickly at the torrential downpour your eyes narrowed as you inspected the narrow ledge of the window and the straight drop down. Time for retrieval was escaping, Price needed to make a decision and he needed to make it now before his opinion became obsolete. “Speck…” There was a hint of warning in his voice as he said your name, making your jaw tense once more as you glanced the other way down the street towards where Price was nestled in a building somewhere. You caught sight of Amaan’s retreating form as he tried to make his escape for the second time from your team. John was out of time to make a decision now.

“Fuck it,” you drawled out the words as you used the stock of the gun to clear out the larger shards of glass still stuck to the frame. In the next moment you were climbing through the window before you pressed the button on your radio and growled out, “I’m going after him.” It wasn’t a request this time, it was a statement. You were going after him. A woman had died and Watcher was injured and you couldn’t let his sacrifice go to waste…Not if the worst happened.

Glancing down quickly you found the awaiting gaze as you commanded, “Bleib,” and watched the dog’s focus narrow onto you and you alone. Both of you were now actively ignoring the crying children and the one woman still left to deal with the three children. They weren’t your problem to deal with anymore though, you had other things to worry about. Like how far this drop was gonna be and how you were gonna catch up to that slippery bastard. It was time to treat this just like any other obstacle course or training drill now. Just get it done, put this bullshit to rest.

As you clung to the ledge of the window your eyes searched for the easiest path to the ground, and you could feel your fingers slipping just slightly as you fought to hang on. The shining gutter on the right caught your gaze as you swung yourself off the ledge of the broken window and towards it. Your hands couldn’t grip it all that well but before you slid down you managed to get your feet around it as you controlled your descent to the street below. It only barely broke what would have been a bone-breaking fall, but it broke it enough that you could ignore the pain in your knees and turn to yell up, “Hier.”

Only a moment passed before Cerberus launched himself through the window and you saw his head tilt down as he looked for you. Reminiscent of the way he had launched off the top of the training wall during the training run with full faith you would be there to catch him. It was all the same to him, work and training were no different. So long as you were there he couldn’t have cared less about the situation that he was in while doing it.

Your arms lifted as you took a couple steps back before the weight of the dog landed on your outstretched forearms and you cushioned his fall. Without another moment of thought you issued a quick, “Fuss,” and then turned down the street and took off at a sprint, not bothering to check on Cerberus. There was no doubt in your mind that he had slipped into his place at your side.

Where had Amaan been when you last saw him? You were struggling to remember now. He’d turned down a side road and disappeared between the buildings, you could recall that much at least. But had he been at the dead end of this street? He had been, right? Yeah of course he had. For sure…Maybe? Fuck.

“I’ve got eyes on Amaan,” the deep voice sounded akin to the rumble of an engine in your ear as he answered a question you hadn’t even dared to utter. “Three streets to your north, Speck. Move fast, I don’t have eyes anymore,” the callout made your head whip to your right just as you began to pass a side street. It only took a quick glance for you to catch sight of the man in question once more.

Oh yeah, you were definitely faster than that fucker. You could catch up to him easily, you just had to put everything clouding your mind out of it. None of that was important right now. All you had to do was get yourself and Cerberus out of this mess alive now. That was it.

You slipped in the wet streets as you took the hard turn and started after him. Ahead he darted out of sight back towards the west and you had to raise a hand to shield your eyes from the rain pouring into your face. Even your eyelashes were beginning to drip as the thunder continued to rumble overhead and another flash of lightning lit up the sky. Had you been standing still you might have even gotten cold with how wet everything around you was, but with your arms and legs pumping you didn’t exactly have the chance. Instead your skin felt like fire beneath the tight, black shirt and comparatively loose, black cargo pants you’d donned for the mission.

The dog beside you was focused ahead and for the first time it seemed you weren’t the only thing on his mind. Cerberus was well aware that the chase was on. You’d both been on enough together that it wasn’t all that surprising he had realized what was happening by now.

The gun in your hands and the gear strapped to your body felt like a weight dragging you down into the streets that were now turning into mud as you neared the poorer parts of the city. The water that had soaked into your shirt and pants was becoming a fifty pound burden as it slowed your typically light and agile form. You could only hope that Cerberus’ thick-furred body wasn’t feeling the same in these conditions. One of you slowed down was enough cause for concern, the both of you being drug down was beyond concerning.

As Amaan’s head whipped around to find you, you watched his form take another turn, he knew he was being followed. Lovely. He was trying to shake his tail and if you lost sight of him for too long he might very well be able to do that. Cerberus couldn’t track in these conditions…Well that was a lie, he could do it. It would just be painstaking and it was doubtful you’d end with your query in hand anyway, and you weren’t about to let Watcher get shot trying to get this fucker and then have to find out that the bitch got away again. And if the worst happened…Fuck why hadn’t you hurried the fuck up in that stupid fuckin room?

A pit opened in your stomach as your mind tried to backtrack. Son of a bitch you couldn’t be thinking about all of that. Drown it out and focus Speck, for the love of God and all that’s right and holy in this world fucking focus. He wasn’t the priority right now, not yours anyway. Konig was more than willing to take care of the kid and Watcher didn’t need your worry or your pity. Right now you needed to think rationally not with whatever the fuck else your mind was trying to force on you.

Even as the thoughts crossed your mind you heard the crack of the mic as words spilled through, “Someone get the fucking van. We’ve got to get the fuck oot of here.” Soap’s tone didn’t hold worry so much as it did urgency. A need to get out of what had turned into quite literally a bloody mess before things got even worse, or so you assumed. You weren’t exactly there to see how things were going since you left.

“On it,” Ghost’s deep voice answered back immediately just as the man you were chasing made another turn and forced your focus back to him completely. This slippery bastard was gonna be the death of your knees with all these fucking turns.

Catch him, stop him, hell kill him if need be. Fuck the info you could get from him at this point, you’d rather know this was over than worry about some intel. Just end his life and finish this bullshit. You turned the corner around a tall fence and were met with an empty dead end street. Your gaze darted back and forth from the collapsing building on one side and the tall, chain link fence on the other side as thunder continued to rumble overhead. “Where the fuck-”

Pacing back and forth in the alley your mind worked quickly towards a viable solution. One hesitant step forward and then a quick turn back and your eyes slid over the fence next to you. Mud had kicked up on it. No, that was way too high to be from anyone just running by. You froze as you looked at it for a moment, watching as gravity played its part and the silty mud dripped slowly down the fence.

This fuckin guy…

In the same moment you saw him through the small holes of the fence as he weaved around a car and disappeared from sight once more. It didn’t take you a second longer to start climbing over after him as you hauled yourself up towards the top. At least until you swung a leg over and then stopped, your eyes surveying the broken down cars and junk piled around the fenced in area. One hand braced against the top as you held yourself in place while the other still held the gun nestled tight against your shoulder as you waited a second.

Stop and take in your surroundings Speck, get your fucking head on right or you’re gonna get yourself killed. There he was. Your brows furrowed and then lowered into a look of frustration as you watched him. The figure's hands were clinging to the opposite fence as he desperately tried to pull himself up.

When he turned to glance back a flash of anger curled your lip up instantly and you couldn’t stop yourself. You lifted the gun and without even a thought your other hand steadied your aim as you fired at the man. Every muscle tensed as you watched him fall backwards off the fence, a yell of pain just barely audible in the rain he reached for his shoulder. You watched for another moment, still holding the gun up though you didn’t really expect him to move again.

But it was raining, it was dark, and you weren’t exactly shooting from a good spot as you straddled the fence. There was just barely a flash of metal that you caught before you instinctively dove head first off the fence and for cover. At least you could take comfort in the fact that the man was on the opposite side of the yard in complete darkness and without your technology to aid him.

Gunshots sounded off from the other side of the fenced in lot as your shoulder slammed into the mud below and you clamped your mouth shut. Don’t yell, that was the last thing you needed. You pushed yourself across the ground as you tried to gather your thoughts and your broken body. One hand was still holding the gun out of the mud as you used the other to push yourself up. You braced yourself against a broken down car as you searched the lot once more for movement. You could only hope he was too stupid to reposition himself.

The thought that Cerberus had still been on the other side of the fence didn’t quite register until you heard the clink of metal and the scratch of claws on chain link fence over your shoulder. Fear rushed through you for the first time the whole mission as you heard another round of shots fire off from across the lot. You could only hope he was firing blindly into the night and that he hadn’t somehow caught sight of Cerberus in this darkness.

Your gaze darted up as confusion swirled in your eyes along with a hint of pain you were trying to ignore as well. Without any command the dog had leaped the fence as his resolve and patience finally wore thin and ran out. Mud and water sprayed up into his thick, brindle fur as Cerberus hit the ground. He didn’t even take a second to listen to anything you had to say. It was apparent that he was running on instinct, completely wild and untamed now. It wasn’t exactly something you would be inclined to praise in another situation but right here in the middle of a storm and with both of your lives on the line the longer you remained outside the wire you didn’t attempt to stop him this time.

Cerberus, a missile across the ground even in the bog that was this…Was this a fucking junkyard? Oh yeah without a doubt, especially as you hopped the decrepit car you had almost landed on top of. You tried to follow the dog but he was impossibly fast and a thousand times more capable of flitting into the opened skeletons of dead cars. He disappeared from sight as he dove through one frame of a car and scrambled out the window on the other side.

And then he disappeared from sight as you vaulted another car and tried to follow after him. As you jumped to the next car you heard a scream rip through the air. The sight of the person who uttered it was blocked by a stand of cars though as you continued to wind through the junkyard. Rain continued to pound down on your helmet and drowned out the splashing of mud and water as Cerberus wrestled Amaan to the ground. You weren’t there to see the way the skin tore as the man struggled to get away from the iron jaws around his forearm. Nor did you see his arm as it was nearly torn apart and off by the animal that was operating completely rogue at this point.

As you vaulted another car just beside the stand that was blocking your sight your eyes landed on the violently shaking head as Cerberus’ jaws and body kept the man pinned to the ground. Almost dragging him over the mud and now covered the man as you took a slow step forward. You found yourself reveling in the man’s screams, enjoying them. He was a vile man, a demon that had come to visit the mortal world and you couldn’t help the peace you felt watching Cerberus work. This man had killed so many, hurt even more both physically and emotionally with the death he had wrought on this realm. He deserved this. He deserved to feel a fraction of the pain he himself had caused.

“Speck!?” A voice yelled into your ear piece, raspy and deep and probably the only thing that could have caught your attention at this point. He always caught your attention. Your eyes darted around you for just a moment as if you expected to find the man somewhere around you before Amaan’s screams reached your ears again. Growls from the dog in front of you drew your eyes just in time to see the man’s free hand reach for the gun he’d dropped when Cerberus had initially taken him down.

Again your lip curled up in response as you aimed at the perpetrating hand and sent a round straight through the back of his palm. A fresh scream tore from his throat before he drew his hand back towards him in an attempt to protect it. Taking a step forward you knelt on his back before grabbing one of the zip ties that hung from the pouch at your waist. With one quick, “Aus,” the animal’s jaws relented and fresh blood pooled out of the wounds as he did.

His loud barks thundered in your ears even louder than mother nature’s ruckus overhead. It was still all a game to him, even if he had broken his hold for a moment he still thought it was just a game. There was no distinction between play, training, and work, and you’d used him not as a tool but as revenge this time. What the fuck were you doing?

“Speck, answer me!” His voice broke you from your thoughts again as you shot a glance down to the wire connecting your earpiece and the mic around your throat. Hurriedly you drug the man’s arms behind his back, smiling as he groaned out in pain and said a few garbled words you couldn’t make out in the storm. You tightened the plastic around his wrists before standing back up with your foot on the middle of his back to hold him in place. Amaan wriggled helplessly in the mud as rain still poured over the both of you in the dark din of the storm.

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath and reached up to press the button on the mic, “Junkyard.” Well that was certainly descriptive now wasn’t it? Good God Speck, say something else, give them something else to go off of. What else could you give them?

Your eyes darted around the fenced in lot as you actively ignored the man still writhing beneath your foot. Think, Speck, think of something else to say, there had to be some other way to tell him exactly where you were. “I’m about a hundred and fifty meters from my last known,” silence encapsulated you for the first time that night, even the tumultuous skies overhead went quiet seeming to sense the urgency of this situation. Cerberus had fallen silent at your side as well, his eyes still watching the man at your feet in what was as close to a daring look as you’d ever seen, if a dog were even capable of that.

Seconds passed by as you waited for someone to answer you. Any reply at all to set your nerves at ease. Finally, John’s voice rumbled in your ear again as he asked, “Did you get him?” You could sense the hope in his voice even over the radio, a daring want for this to finally be over.

Your gaze slid to the man beneath you as you rolled Amaan over onto his back with your boot and glared down at him. His teeth were gritted and his lips peeled back over his teeth as he tried to hold back the sounds of pain he was no doubt feeling as he laid on several injuries to his limbs. “Oh yeah, Captain, you bet your fuckin ass I got him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bloody hand prints painted the white metal floors and walls as the false panel of the van sat open in front of you. Your jaw tightened as you looked at the evidence of what had happened on this latest mission, the blood that had been spilled on both sides of this war tonight. You were standing at the back of the van with your knees pressing against the bumper, and despite how empty it made you feel you couldn’t find the will to look away from the mess before you.

Even Gaz passing in front of your gaze couldn’t interrupt your rushing thoughts. Your mind went idle as you watched him spraying the blood out of the back, your arms crossed over your face as you stayed put. Mud still caked nearly every inch of your clothed body after you’d all but rolled in it back in that junkyard. While both specks of blood and dried mud decorated your face like the makeup a toddler would have painted across your skin. Even strands of your beard were stuck together with the dried, brown substance as it cracked every time you reached a hand up to run your fingers through it. You watched with every muscle tensed as the bloody water dripped out onto the cement floor before it disappeared underneath the van to head down the drain.

Not all of the blood was Watcher's at least, half of it belonged to Amaan after Cerberus had nearly torn his arm off at the elbow. You should have let him do it too. It was what that fucker deserved after he shot that poor kid. Sure Watcher had signed up for this just like anyone else had, but it didn’t mean that the whole team wasn’t still feeling this hit. Even you were as new to them as you were.

A door opened somewhere behind you and still you stared ahead as Gaz continued to clean up his friend’s blood slowly, seemingly as lost in his own head as you were. You certainly weren’t blaming him. “Speck,” the deep voice broke your concentration as you turned to eye the perpetrator with a cocked brow.

John came to a stop beside you finally and you caught his gaze just as it landed on your face. He’d been in an interrogation with Ghost and Amaan for the past few hours as you all waited for the sun to set once more, not to mention the tail end of the storm that was still raging overhead. Your arms dropped from your chest as you turned towards him, your head tilting quizzically. Jesus you needed to get out of your fucking head, that was never a good place to be. “Did he talk? What’d he say?”

Blue eyes held you hostage in their gaze, his hand finding yours as he stood there. It was only for a fleeting moment though, not nearly long enough for either of you. Only a passing graze over the rough texture of your palm that was still dyed a deep red. His index finger felt like a feather ghosting over your skin just as the rest of his hand wrapped around yours. John’s thumb grazed over the back of your knuckles before he pulled away so that the only other man present didn’t see and shook his head in answer, “No he didn’t. I doubt he’ll talk any time soon, Speck.” At his words a flash of frustration passed across your gaze as your eyes flicked towards the door that led into the main room of the safehouse.

You’d been here before in this safehouse, been at the end of this interrogation once already. So why was the only thought crossing your mind, ‘They ain’t tryin’ hard ‘nough.’ They knew what they were doing, you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like you could do more. There was this need to seize control in such an unsure situation that scratched at the back of your mind, it was the way you’d been trained. Thrown at problems relentlessly and told to figure it out, it was the only thing in life you’d ever been good at. Or at least that was what you had always told yourself.

Your features darkened but you didn’t give him a chance to see as you stepped away from him without a word and your eyes shot to the door as you headed straight towards the door back into the safehouse. Until fingers wrapped around your bicep and John intercepted your progress, putting himself between you and the door. “Just let me give it a go, John,” even before you finished though the other’s head was shaking. His strong grip stayed securely around your arm as his other hand came up to rest gently against your chest. Warmth spread into your skin from his palm as it laid against the gear you still hadn’t stripped out of. His head continued to shake even as you pleaded helplessly, “You’ve been in there for hours, he’s obviously not all that afraid of you. Let me-”

“No,” John’s firm answer resonated through the small garage and you heard the hosepipe stop behind you, though the gaze leveled in front of you held you frozen in place. This was the man who had soothed the raging inferno of your temper in the worst of times, and after letting Cerberus nearly tear Amaan apart that fire had burned out to a barely smoking ember as you questioned everything about yourself. You needed something to ground you and as the realization hit you couldn’t help the small huff you let out because of course you did. When did you not need him to stabilize your deteriorating mental state of late? Pathetic. “Go clean yourself up, Speck. Take a break.” Your jaw tensed as you neared an overt refusal of his suggestion. When he sighed deep though and you had to watch his head tilt as he leaned a bit closer, “You smell like shite, Love. Trust me, yeah? We know what we’re doing.” Trust him. Damn.

Your eyes hit the ground immediately as you took a step back to put some distance between y’all. Shrugging his hand off your arm his other hand fell off of your chest and the cold you’d been ignoring began to set into what felt like your very soul. A deep chill rushed through you though you kept your head on as you nodded a hesitant answer, “Yeah, John, I know.” You glanced back over your shoulder towards the van just as Gaz turned his back in an attempt to give some semblance of privacy. Surprising. Turning back to the Brit you found the ocean depths in front of you and took a slow breath, “Where’s the bathroom?” You watched as his shoulders visibly relaxed in front of you and he curled up the corner of his mouth in a half smile.

Nodding his head towards the other door that led off the garage he lifted his arms to cross them over his chest before answering, “Through the door and down the hall on the left.” You nodded slowly and turned, leaving him behind as you headed to clean yourself up. Cerberus lifted his head as you passed where he was laying against the wall.

The smell of wet dog and the pungent, metallic tang of blood wafted up your way as you went, nearly choking you with the severity of it. Smells had never really bothered you before, but now you felt a roiling in your gut as you neared and unconsciously sped up past him. Cerberus’ head fell back down to the concrete as you passed, failing to signal or call for him. The Dutchie could wait until y’all were back at base, there wouldn’t be much you could do for the smell right now anyway. You’d let him sleep for a bit now, he’d earned that much at least.

Opening the door you stepped through the threshold, letting the darkness of the hallway swallow you into its embrace as your hand reached out to slide along the wall. You weren’t even sure you were actually walking, not until your fingers ran over the knob of a door on the left hand side of the walland you pushed it open. Fumbling for just a moment your hand searched the wall beside the door before you flipped the lightswitch on the wall and your eyes ran over the small bathroom. Your eyes froze as they found the mirror on the wall, swallowing hard as you took in the sight.

You hadn’t truly looked at yourself in so long now that it was hard to recognize the mud and blood covered man who stared back at you. Sure you had shaved in a mirror on occasion or seen yourself in the reflection of a window when you passed, this was different though. You hadn’t actually taken the time to gaze upon the visage of what you had become over what was now nearly three years. Hadn’t let yourself realize this was your life and you had ruined it. And as you looked at yourself you slowly began to realize you no longer recognized the man who looked back.

The deaths you had lived through had changed you, they’d rewritten the etched lines on your face and put patches of gray in your hair. You’d still been a young man when you’d lost them, as carefree as you could have been living that lie anyway. Your mind had still been that of a teenager and in some ways it still was, but you’d lost that bright, young smile and carefree attitude. They had made you callous to the pain of others and you’d lost some of yourself over the years. And what made it all so much worse was that you hadn’t even realized it until Cerberus’ teeth had been tearing flesh from Amaan’s forearm. Hell you’d been more than ready to kill a man who had simply been doing his job and Wade hadn’t deserved that.

Your eyes dropped to the sink below, blinking as you cleared your thoughts of the man you’d seen in the mirror. Taking a deep breath you flipped the water on, trying to smother the way your heart was racing and how clouded your mind was becoming. Water from the faucet ran cold over your hands as you tested the water before sighing and reaching up to the straps of your tactical vest. You stripped it off over your head with a vicious pull and threw it into the floor, the panic still rising as you fought to keep it together. Rolling your shoulders and head you felt the tension in every muscle and you could only wish for a shower at that moment, something warm to melt the ice forming in your veins. Fuck you wanted, no you needed a damn shower.

The skin tight shirt clinging to your torso was still damp and made chills rack your body as you stood there. Reaching down to the hem of the shirt you pulled the thin fabric up over your head and glanced down at the pink droplets of water left behind on your chest that had seeped through the fabric. Diluted by water and mud you watched as they slid down your chest and disappeared into the waistband of your pants.

Christ you were still thinking too much. You leaned down over the sink and cupped your hands underneath the water as the blood that had been caked on your hands and in the grooves of your fingernails began to wash down the sink. Mud turned the typically bright red into a darkened ruddy color as it added to the already dirtied sink. The stains on your hands slowly began to dissipate as you leaned your face towards the sink and dipped your head beneath the water. Running your fingers through your hair and beard you could feel the dried mud and blood begin to loosen in the strands, doing your best to clean up in the small space.

Slowly you lifted your head back up, running your hands vigorously over your hair as if they themselves were towels and in the same moment you heard drops of water hit the murky liquid still attempting to drain below. Your hands braced on either side of the sink’s bowl as you stared down at the rust colored water below. You should have been better, been there. Why hadn’t you been the first one through that door? Because you’d been too busy dealing with non-combatants. You should have been fucking quicker. The tips of your fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the side of the sink as you got lost in the realm of your thoughts once more unable to pull yourself from them.

“Speck,” immediately your head jerked up at the deep voice right behind you and your eyes shifted to his reflection in the mirror, focusing on the face that now stared back at you. The brunette beard drew your gaze first but only for a moment before it shot up to the deep depths of what was quickly becoming your only place of safety and calm. John was the one who broke your locked eyes as he turned to look out of the door before he closed it behind him with a soft, barely audible whisper of sound. In fact the only noise was that of the lock clicking into place though you barely even noticed because your eyes were glued only to that face, completely incapable of looking away. Stock still in his presence.

Turning your head cautiously you glanced over your shoulder, watching him now out of the corner of your eye. Even that was too much though and had your face and the rest of your body warming in response. The second he was there though your mind stopped whirling. How could it not when the only thought running through your mind was, ‘He looks good in black, he should wear it more often.’ The tempest that was raging had come to a halt in the eye of the storm the moment you were captured by his eyes. Standing back up straight you turned, just barely enough to look at him and with one hand still holding on to the sink for support for fear your knees were going to give out.

You watched him for a moment in the precarious silence of the room, in the whole building really, before his head tilted. The blue gaze was unable to stop its descent down your bared chest though, giving his thoughts away like a snitch. There was no doubt he was tracing the droplets of water that were dripping from the strands of your hair and beard and falling over your skin. Without meeting your gaze again and while he was still inspecting the scars and muscle along your stomach and chest, he asked in a voice still laced with concern, “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Good Lord that was the last thing you wanted to fucking do. Talk about feelings? Right now? Fuck that. There was no way in the fucking world you were gonna allow the boner killer that were your thoughts out. Your fingers loosened on the side of the sink as you turned fully towards him. You needed a distraction, something to pass the time. You needed him.

There wasn’t exactly much space to cover in the small bathroom, only a few inches at most. You were across the short space at the speed of light. Probably faster if you were being honest. One of your hands ran over his cheek before it wrapped around the back of his head to tangle into his short brunette strands there. Your lips pressed to his gently at first before something more needy and wanting overcame you.

His body went rigid at the initial contact, almost like he seemed unsure of what you were doing. Surprised maybe? At least that was until your hand slid against his hip to run across the small of his back and you pulled him closer. You could feel his muscles start to melt in response to your touch then before he was matching your neediness. Matching the desire you had for him at every moment of the day. His need for you was shining through just as much as yours was and God if that didn’t feel just fucking amazing.

For once it wasn’t Price jumping on you, in fact you could still sense some hint of hesitation despite his hungry, devouring mouth still pressed to yours. Your hips grinded against his and you could feel yourself twitching in response, still confined to the tight fabric of your pants. Desire and need and some tail end of an adrenaline high fueled your movements like throwing gasoline on a fire. When John pulled his mouth away to take in a breath your lips moved to the corner of his, pressing a kiss there and then down across his beard and caught the strangled sound of a groan in the air before it cut off.

You were insatiable in your need for him as you nipped at the thin skin of his neck, pressing ever closer to him in search of the warmth you knew radiated from him. Impulsively you sucked at the skin of his throat, not considering the hickey you were probably giving him as you listened to the deep rumble of his throat. It vibrated against your lips and you pressed a quick kiss to the spot before moving a bit lower to do the same thing, his body tensing again in response before melting once more.

Fuck. He tasted like the salty prick of sweat and the earth yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. Enough of him. The fingers that you had tangled into his hair pulled and his chin lifted up in response as you continued to mark his skin. As you continued to claim him as your own even though you knew that he wasn’t yours to claim but fuck he was, wasn’t he? That’s right. He was yours. Yours and only fucking yours.

Your body pushed closer as you shoved him back against the door, trapping him against you and the hard surface as you tried to control yourself to no avail. John didn’t seem to mind too much though as you listened to him let out a huff in response and then he was reciprocating. His hands pulled you impossibly closer as strong fingers grabbed at your hips and you felt him roll your body fluidly against his own. He was urging you on without even needing words and good God it was the sexiest thing you’d ever witnessed.

When his other hand ran over the expanse of your bare back you felt his calluses scratch across your skin, and a noise rumbled deep within you in response. Something primal and animalistic and you could feel John’s body shudder against yours in response. It was a noise you’d never made before that had his hands sliding over your skin and grasping harder at your hips. Searching for something neither of you seemed too certain about yet.

Fuck you wanted him though. You wanted to bury yourself inside of him and never pull out again. You felt like a King when he’d done it to you, you could only imagine how you’d feel sliding into his walls. He’d never let you though. But God did you want it, you wanted him. You wanted just about anything and everything he’d fucking give you or let you take. Fingers grasped at the back of your neck, digging hard into the muscle as you rutted your hips against him again.

You could feel yourself harden at just the thought of fucking him like a man gone feral, and you were well on your way to that exact point. “Spe-” his voice sounded strained as a moan escaped and cut off his pleading voice. When you glanced up through dark lashes you could see his teeth biting into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and part of you wondered if he had. God why was the thought of that so hot? “Speck,” he finally managed to groan out as your thoughts ran rampant with the many different ways you could ravage him right here in this bathroom. “We need to talk.”

Fuckin hell, John, not right now. The hand you had at his waist slipped around to his front as your hand groped blindly at his hardening length. He twitched beneath your palm as his cock strained for more. “Ya really wanna talk right now?” You could barely catch your breath enough to ask the question and to be fair he didn’t seem much better either. Your heart was racing in your chest and your head felt like it was swimming with so many things you couldn’t even begin to identify exactly what it was. At least whatever had been bothering you before was long forgotten now though.

Without waiting for him to answer your mouth was on his neck again as you pressed a trail of gentle kisses on your way up his neck. One after another they pressed into his skin until you felt the hairs of his beard tickling against your lips and the tip of your nose. He hummed in response for a moment before he finally tipped his head back again and groaned out, “Fuck no. Later.” Unable to resist your teasing mouth you felt his throat rumble against your mouth again with pleasure. Slowly, you made your way along the underside of his jaw with your fingers still pulling at the short strands of his hair to keep his head from tilting back down. You were holding him in place with just your body now and the gravity of the situation was starting to sink in.

You were in control. He was letting you do whatever you wanted to him and he wasn’t stopping you. God you could feel him still straining against the fabric that held his erection at bay, the buttons of his pants straining to keep the fabric closed now. Glancing up you watched his face as something close to a smile found his mouth at the attention you were paying to his neck. At the claim you were steadily etching across his skin in what would be small purple bruises in a few hours. Fuck.

Letting go of his hair, both of your hands made for his waist as you grabbed hard at his sides, your thumbs pressing against the bones of his hips hidden just beneath the muscle there. The moment you released his hair though his chin tilted down and you felt his fingers pull your face back in range so he could press his lips to yours. You pulled him off the door with a sharp tug and spun the two of you around slowly as your hands slid behind to grab at his ass. One palm for each perfectly shaped globe.

God he was perfect. All you could think about was how it would feel to sink inside of him, how tight his walls would grip your poor, neglected erection. What he would sound like and what it would feel like to hear him moan as you fucked him until the only thing his foggy mind could think about was you, and how good you felt. You wanted to fuck him stupid, and christ right now you certainly had the stamina too. God just to fuck him until he came on your cock like he’d done to you so many times already.

A strained moan left you at the thought as his teeth sunk into your lip and you pressed him back slowly into the sink. Without so much as a single thought going through your head your hands grabbed at his backside and you lifted him up sliding him backwards to sit on the rim of the sink. He grunted and you felt him stiffen again as he pulled away with a bit of surprise in his eyes. You froze in place with your hands still holding him tightly and with your hips slotted perfectly between his thighs, just a bit too far for either of you to feel any friction though. “Bloody hell, Speck,” his voice was quiet and just barely reached your ears as he watched your expression.

Dark brows furrowed and you watched the tip of his tongue slide out to wet his lips before he leaned forward to press his forehead into yours. His fingers dug into the locks of your hair that had grown out way too long these past months out here, pulling at the strands with a spark of something unidentifiable in his eyes. When your jaw tensed though you saw his mouth turn into a smirk before he muttered, “You’re always surprising me, Love.” The tension in your jaw dissipated slowly as you watched him without a hint of what was going through your head now.

Slowly your face tilted up until you felt your nose tap against his. When you leaned forward again though he pulled away with a teasing shake of his head. You couldn’t help it when your gaze darted down to his lips and narrowed, before you jerked him forward until he was flush with you once more and nearly falling off the sink. Grinding against him you muttered quietly, “Full of those, ain’t I Angel?” The corners of his mouth turned up just a bit more and this time he was the one who bridged the gap as he pulled at the hair still trapped between his fingers and he captured your lips once more.

It didn’t take long before your head was swimming in him once more. After y’all had been stopped last time that feral need for one another was boiling hot and you needed him. Every single thought was lost in the way he felt pressed against you. Lost in the way he kept one hand wrapped around the back of your head and the other was sliding around your throat and then down your chest slowly.

Blunt nails drug over your bare flesh before you felt fingers pulling deftly at the belt around your waist. You couldn’t help the smile that raised the corners of your mouth as he did. Something far more primal than you’d ever felt was clawing its way across your mind now. As his fingers moved on to the buttons of your pants you felt the friction as it grazed over your sensitive member.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you bucked forward towards his hand, your mouth falling agape with a low groan. John’s amusement came out in a short huff as his hand delved inside of the black cargos, pulling your member free quickly. The moan you let out was sinful before he shot forward to cut it off with a hard kiss. Strong fingers slid along your shaft slowly as he swallowed down your quiet groans that you couldn’t hold back despite your desperate attempts. It didn’t seem to matter though, John had no qualms with keeping them quiet himself at this point.

Fingers wrapped around your length as you leaned further into him with a groan. Begging him wordlessly for more. You tilted your head down and you could hear him give a low hum of appreciation at the weight of you in his hand. Your head had already been swimming before he’d even gotten his hand around you, but now? Now you were drowning in the attention he was lavishing upon you in heaping servings.

Still holding tightly onto his backside you knew you were denting his perfect flesh, dotting it with even more bruises. You couldn’t wait to see them. God just the thought was enough to send you near spiraling again. “Fuck John,” you managed to whisper as his free hand moved up to cup your cheek and his thumb ran over your skin with a delicate touch. It shouldn’t have been so intimate. You’d never meant for this to be sensual, you were in a bathroom for fuck’s sake. This should have been rough, quick, distracting, no room for thought. Yet here you were as he tried to hold your gaze with his.

The need to be something more would never escape you when it came to him, you knew that somewhere deep down, but you couldn’t deal with that, not right now. His thumb grazed slowly along the head of your cock and you barely stopped another moan as you watched his deep blue gaze, your eyes half lidded and barely managing to stay open now. There was a smirk on his face as he realized he had you like putty in his hands once more despite that for the first time you didn’t want to be.

Fuck it. Your hips rolled forward with a fluid motion as you thrusted into his open hand and simultaneously pushed him further back onto the sink. When his head tilted, your eyes shot down to avoid his gaze and your hand slid over his hip and then around to the inside of his thigh.You drug your thumb slowly over the closure of his pants and your fingers dug into the flesh of his thigh he hummed in satisfaction. “When did you become a tease?” His voice was husky as his hips pressed up into what little bit of friction he could get from your feather-light touch. Meanwhile his own hand was still pumping up and down your throbbing length in slow, careful strokes.

Giving him a nonchalant shrug you answered back in a slow drawl, “What can I say?” You pressed your hips closer as your lips once more dipped in search of his neck, wanting to feel his pulse against your sensitive skin. They pressed lightly against the dark stubble, once more tasting the earth and salt of his skin which for once was absent of his usual chocolatey taste that you knew came from his cigars. When you pulled back again your voice was lower as you rumbled out a quiet, “You bring out the best in me, Angel.”

His chin tilted up just before you felt a heel hook around your thigh and he pulled you closer. The hand that was still around your length stilled. It was like he was frozen in place and in that moment you realized just exactly what you were doing to him. This was a two way street, he felt it too. You were doing to him exactly what he always did to you and you couldn’t stop the smile that bled through as you continued to press kisses against his neck and popped the buttons on his pants. The pulse that thudded beneath his skin almost felt like it quickened against your lips.

However, you were certain you felt it quicken when your fingers slid into the waistband of his underwear to graze over the length of his cock. The man beneath your mouth and touch shuddered and squirmed against you, nearly begging for more before you pulled his length free. Your mouth stopped its relentless assault on his neck as you leaned away for just a moment before your forehead tilted down to lay gently against his shoulder. John copied the motion as you felt his beard scratch against your cheek, the longer hairs grazing over your skin and making it tingle with an itch that you ignored.

Both sets of eyes turned down to watch as your hands moved in sync along the length of your erections. Precome welled from the tips slowly and you could feel his calluses catching along the veins of your cock and you knew that yours were doing the same along his. Especially when you heard a mumbled, “Shite,” into your shoulder as he tried to keep himself quiet. The pressure was building though as your heart began to beat a solid rhythm that you felt not only in your chest but throughout your length as well.

This wasn’t the same as being buried inside him but you’d take what he was more than willing to give. Best not to push your luck for now and you’d take anything he gave you in truth. Twisting your wrist at the head of his cock you heard him gasp before his hand let you go and his head tilted back. “Bloody hell, Speck. I can’t-” You repeated the motion and his words turned immediately into a moan as his head tilted back.

There it was. He was losing himself in the moment as you continued to jerk him off, eating up the sight of him getting lost in the way you could make him feel. His mouth was babbling nonsense as he tried to keep his thoughts together and failed miserably. God almighty, you could listen to these breathless gasps for air and his quiet pants for the rest of time and be completely happy standing right there between his thighs.

Blue eyes disappeared behind pale lids and his cheeks flushed red before your eyes. The collar of his shirt dipped just barely low enough that your gaze could pick out the dark dustings of hair at the top of his chest along with the smallest hint of his collarbone. A treat for your eyes just as much as every facial expression was. Good God he was beautiful and you could feel a near painful throb in your length just as you thought it.

When his cheeks flushed deeper your hips bucked forward instinctively, your cock searching for something and something it found as the head of your dick ran along the underside of his. The moment you felt that little bit of friction you just couldn’t stop yourself as your fingers wrapped around both of your leaking erections. Newfound need had your hand pumping quicker and it was obvious both of you were feeling yourselves getting closer and closer to the finish line. Hell John’s mouth was held agape as he tried to catch his breath while the rest of his body worked relentlessly to reach that peak.

One hand held painfully tight on to your shoulder as the other seemed to dig into the side of the sink. His muscles tightened but it wasn’t the same as last time even though you weren’t sure what he was doing. Not until you felt his hips thrust up towards your hand as he tried to speed his climax along. His member ran along the underside of your own as he moved and you sucked in a breath just barely holding in a long moan and instead let it out in a quiet hiss that was covered up by a soft groan of pleasure. “John,” you paused and he hummed in response with his eyes still closed while your hand continued dragging up and down your lengths. “Angel, you’re being too loud. Someone’s gonna hear us.”

John whimpered deep in his throat before it escalated into another moan and you watched as he tried his best to bite it back. Teeth dug into his bottom lip before he leaned his head forward and forced his eyes open to find you. Blue hues searched your face half lidded and lazy as he gazed at you. The blush across his cheeks deepened and the Brit let his mouth fall open again as he panted into the stale air of the bathroom. “Sp-” Your thumb ran over the head of your own cock and gathered some of the precome before continuing on to graze over the tip of his.

This was a completely different man in front of you now. You’d broken him down and God it felt good to know that you even held that power over him, over anyone really but especially John Price. Even more though was that you had him at your very whim right now, there was no doubt in your mind he’d have given you anything in that moment. John was completely under your spell and you’d never felt more in control of another human being as you did now. “Shhh sweetheart, I’ve got you,” your voice was quiet as your eyes stayed locked for as long as the other could manage. When you said that you had him though and you implied that he could trust you, that he could let go of that dominant persona he always seemed to exude, that was when the last of his resolve evaporated.

You rolled your hips forward again in a fluid motion and as you did the last hand you’d been holding onto him with shot up. Your palm slapped over his mouth and you just barely managed to muffle another whine that would have undoubtedly given the two of you away. John’s head fell back hard and smacked against something behind him but the both of you were too far gone to really piece together what exactly had just happened. Heads so far in the clouds someone could have been firing a gun outside and you would have been none the wiser.

With your hand still muffling the noises he couldn’t hold back and the way he continued to thrust in your still pumping hand you knew he was about to finish soon and you doubted you were going to get a warning. Not with how he was still panting into your hand and the flush on his face only seemed to get deeper by the second. Hell the throb in your own member was beginning to edge nearly into pain as the pressure continued to build, just aching to be set free.

Fuck you were close, so fucking close now. You couldn’t help the low grunt you let out as your hand tightened around the heads of your erections. Pumping one more time your eyes darted down as you felt his body stiffen and his cock twitch in your hand. Your eyes landed on his cock just in time to watch his cum paint the back of your knuckles and the front of his black cargos. It almost felt wasteful in that moment but in the next you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking about.

He whimpered against the flat of your palm as his body spasmed once and he thrusted into your hand again, another shot spraying along the head of your cock and dripping slowly down your length. Your eyes darted up to find his beet red face as you quickly continued to pump up and down the length of both of your members. Letting him ride out his orgasm while you still hungrily chased your own.

Slowly his muscles unwound and John slumped back against the wall and mirror behind him. Pale eyelids lifted tiredly and revealed the ocean hues to you once more as you pulled your hand away from his mouth finally. You slid it slowly to his cheek as you cupped his face with one hand, still chasing your own climax with the other to no avail.

The air was too warm against your skin though. Everything felt too tight and too close even though he still wasn’t close enough. You couldn’t imagine how John felt with his t-shirt clinging to him. God why hadn’t you pulled that fucking thing off of him already? You wanted to see his chest now, that gorgeous fucking body that you knew was hidden beneath as you still tried to find your own release.

It was escaping you though, dancing tantalizingly out of reach. When one of Price’s hands wrapped around your wrist and stopped your rapid chase as he mumbled out, “What’s wrong, Love?” The hand that had been cupping his cheek fell away as you ducked your head and your hand fell away from your throbbing member.

It felt like all the energy dissipated from your limbs the moment he stopped you as you leaned forward and relaxed into his chest. Your forehead nudged lightly against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you and you felt your length dragging against the fabric of his pants still throbbing painfully as the pressure at the base of your cock begged for release. Your own hands settled at the small of his back as you continued to roll your hips forward against him unconsciously.

As you turned your face into his neck you answered quietly, “Nothins’ wrong. Just tired.” He hummed his acknowledgement of your statement as his fingers traveled slowly down your back and side until he halted at the bone of your hip, his thumb rubbing slow circles into it as he took a pause. You waited a moment before you questioned him quietly, “Why’d you stop?”

John’s shoulders moved up in a quiet shrug before he muttered out, “Thought you said you were tired.” You pulled back to look at his face and found a lazy smirk on his features before his fingers tightened around your hips to keep you from moving too far away.

Your brows furrowed before you gave him an annoyed huff of an answer, “Tired, Angel, not fuckin stupid.” The smirk turned into a look of amusement as his hand trailed across the muscle of your stomach. John’s fingers wrapped gently around your length as you thrusted up into his hand unable to control yourself. You were already nearly gone before he got here, and he was only igniting that inferno again that you’d been afraid had danced too far out of reach. You should have known better when it came to John Price though.

His hand slid down your length once before he released you and lifted his hand to his mouth. You asked a silent question with a tilt of your head but he didn’t need to respond as he spit into the palm of his hand and returned it just as quickly as he’d pulled it away to your length. The burn of his calluses disappeared as his saliva and cum slickened palm slid over your sensitive skin. A much needed relief as his hand tightened around your length and you felt your release racing forward once more. It was crowding in on you so fast now that the fog in your mind was returning with a vengeance. The fog you’d been chasing earlier and been unable to find shelter in was now clouding every thought as you struggled to remember why you’d even been upset.

Your lips parted in a silent gasp as he trailed his thumb against the underside of your cock and then over the head. Leaning forward you tried to capture his lips for a kiss but he pulled away and instead your chin tilted down and you felt your forehead rest against his chin as you panted into the stale air once more. Your gaze traveled slowly down his front to where his hand was pumping steadily over your member.

Closing your eyes for just a moment you missed it as he added a second hand to the mix. It was the straw that tipped the scale as you hissed out a quiet, “Holy shit.” There was a pulse in your length and then your whole body went rigid. Your hands fell a bit lower on his sides and you jerked John forward to press his chest to yours. You let your eyes shut for a moment and you somehow managed to hold back a moan that would have most definitely traveled beyond these walls as you focused instead on the way his hand felt still traveling up and down your length.

A moment later your muscles began to unwind as you relaxed into the grip he had around your shoulders and John’s hand pumped slowly as the last vestiges of your climax began to dissipate. Everything stayed silent for a few long moments while you regained your thoughts and the fog over your mind cleared in that post-fuck haze. Even though you had been the one in control he still had your head in the fucking clouds. It wasn’t fair and truly you couldn’t have cared less. Not in that moment…Not ever.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

More art by @foreverrunningfree Everyone say thank you cause this shit cute af

Part 11

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 12k

Synopsis: Come rot ya teeth. Both of them are being vulnerable, this shit as rare as a double rainbow (heh get it cause it's pride...I'm sorry).

Warnings: You will need to see a dentist after this chapter, I'm sorry. They needed, they deserved it, and so did I.

Pulling the phone away from your ear you blinked at the ended call screen for a few short moments. What the hell? Why…Just why? Why was it always in the middle of something? Shock and frustration were mixing in your head, making you grip the phone a bit tighter than you should have as you stared ahead at the wall. This was absolutely some bullshit. You felt your jaw tense, teeth clenching together as you tried to fight back that little worm of anger starting to wake up in the back of your mind.

The bed shifted under your knees as John sat back down and you watched as he leaned back against the wall with a frustrated sigh, apparently he was in agreement with your unspoken thoughts. This wasn’t an unusual thing to you, getting called away in the middle of something important, but it had been a long time since you’d experienced it and you had to admit that the annoyance was beginning to turn into something akin to nerves. Especially when the brunette beside you growled out in a low tone, "Bloody hell." Your eyes darted nervously to him, worried he was about to blame you for this.

Well not so much worried, that was maybe the wrong word. It was more like you were expecting to catch the blame. It was always your fault, especially when it was work calling you. Your ex-wife had made that clear enough, it didn’t matter if the same thing had happened more than once now and it hadn’t been you getting called away. It certainly didn’t matter than when it had been John getting called away you hadn’t blamed him in the slightest. This still felt like it was somehow your fault, like you could have changed Laswell’s mind on when she would call you. Doubtful, that woman definitely had a mind of her own.

Instead John just growled out again and shifted uncomfortably on the sheets, "Every time, every bloody time." Shit here it comes. Your eyes darted to the phone in your hand and then back to him slowly, just in time to see him run a hand down over his face. His fingers audibly scratched against the short brown hairs along his jaw, smoothing them down where they had canted up slightly.

Your eyes slid down to where his cock laid against his stomach now as he ignored it stubbornly, unable to hold his gaze in the oncoming hurricane of what would soon be his anger directed at you. It was obvious he was aching as he shifted his hips against the bed and you saw his freehand grip into the muscle of his thigh in an attempt to still ignore it. Ignore the pulsing and twitching against the skin of his stomach. The throbbing that you could feel mirrored in your own cock. God this was gonna be bad.

John cleared his throat, trying to raise your gaze to his. The Brit shifted forward in his attempt, finally earning a quick flick up of your eyes for his troubles. When your gazes met he took a breath and gave you- Wait was that a smile? His mouth turned up at the corners, it was a tight smile but a smile nonetheless. The nerves began to melt away almost immediately, and you watched as he shook his head before tucking his erection away and the Brit asked calmly, his tone only what you could describe as soft, gentle, "When did you get a phone?" He buttoned the jeans back as you continued to watch him. Almost incredulous about how well he was taking this.

That wasn't an accusatory question, it was simply a curious one, akin to a conversation starter. Your own brows furrowed a bit still expecting the other shoe to drop but he merely raised his brunette brows slowly. He was expecting an answer from you rather than just deadpan silence, you’d forgotten about needing to provide a response in order to carry a conversation for a moment. Your eyes blinked at him a couple times as you fought to regain control of your mouth.

Finally you got your thoughts and limbs back under your control. You pulled the jeans back up over the swell of your ass, ignoring the painful throb at the base of your erection. Clearing your throat you sat down beside him with a deep breath. You looked down at the phone in your hand and finally muttered, "Today actually. Wade gave it to me earlier today. I didn't know anyone even had the number, especially not fuckin Laswell." You reached out to hand it to him instinctively. Any time your ex-wife had mentioned your phone it'd been because she wanted to go through your things.

Sure there wasn't anything on it at the moment but it was still a reaction you couldn't quite suppress. John though just glanced down at it in confusion before he shook his head and gave a light huff of amusement, "No, love, I believe you. Just worried this'll mean we have twice the interruption possibilities in the future." Future, that was good. Future meant he wasn’t at least directly blaming you.

Slowly you pulled it back towards you with a slow nod. You couldn’t stop the sigh of relief, still lingering on how he’d said “Future.” Future meant this wasn’t just a few good kickin of the boots, this was something he didn’t plan on stopping, at least not soon. You hid the relief in your eyes though, the last thing you needed was for him to think you were attached or something…Right?

Quickly you looked through the phone for the first time since you’d gotten it. Funny enough everyone on the team was already in the contact list, must have been Wade's doing. It was a team phone so you gotta have the team’s numbers, at least it made sense. You typed out a quick message to the number listed in John’s contact, shooting him a simple text. A bit curious to see if the number was actually his or not. Sure enough a second later a little ding came from his bedside table and he smiled a bit, not bothering to look in its direction. “Wade really came prepared with this one.” You gave him a small smile then, catching the lines of worry around his eyes just as they melted off his face and he gave you a nod in answer.

That primal look in his eyes was gone for the moment as he relaxed against the wall his bed was shoved against. What was he worried about? You? That made something in your stomach do a flip, it felt odd to say the least, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. "You better get going then, Laswell doesn't like to be kept waiting. And she doesn't call for just any reason," your eyes widened just a smidgen as you remembered what had interrupted the two of you. Laswell, yes, that's right. You had people to interrogate and a role to play.

Sliding the phone into your pocket you took a breath and glanced down at the tent that was visible in your boxers without your pants buttoned up yet, "Almost forgot about that.” You huffed in sardonic amusement before continuing “I'll uh, if you want I can come back?" You offered hesitantly and he gave you another curious look before you quickly added, "Or not, whichever is fine. I don't have to. Just thought, nevermind-" Starting to scoot off the bed you felt a strong hand grasp at your forearm then, halting your progress as his head tilted a bit.

A little, warm smile was visible in his eyes as he leaned forward, managing to actually catch you off guard. John pressed a soft kiss against your mouth, much more gentle than the one you'd shared earlier. As he pulled away his fingers ran through the hair at the nape of your neck before he spoke again, "If you have time, of course I want you to come back, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, yeah?" His brows rose expectantly, nodding a bit of encouragement until you joined him in nodding along. Refusing to let you remain stoic, wanting to make sure that you did in fact know you were wanted.

The Brit took a deep breath and a low sigh left his mouth as the hand in your hair pulled you forward, your forehead pressing against his. Neither of you really wanted to leave, that much was obvious, but the both of you knew that work was work. When was it not? When did it not always pull you away from the best things in your life? There’d been a lot more than just leaving John eight months ago that this job had taken from you by force.

Finally though you heard him force out a quick, "Good." One of his large hands slid around to cup the side of your face tenderly, such a drastic contrast to the man who had been about to fuck your brains out not even five minutes ago. He leaned back against the wall again with another sigh and nodded towards the door before he said, "Go see what she needs. When you're done though come back here, can't forget to get your stuff, yeah? It'll be safe here. I won’t let anything happen to it. I swear by it, love. " You didn't even have to look at him sideways in order to get his reassurance, he just gave it without prompting. A proffered encouragement that normally you’d have had to beg for. John was so very different from anyone you'd ever encountered before. Drastically so.

Letting your tense muscles relax you gave another quick nod, "Ok. Yeah I'll just come back," you stopped yourself before you said something stupid but you could feel the slightest hint of a smile playing at the corner of your mouth. It was suppressed though, hidden behind that disappointment that you couldn’t stay here and finish what had been started. Well not really suppressed, more like it was muted. Like the difference between color TV and black and white. It was still there, you could still see it, but you missed some things, it wasn’t quite as eye-catching or vibrant. It was…Hollow.

Still though you forced yourself to move as you slid to the edge of the bed, pausing as you reached it. Your eyes flicked to the legs stretched out beside you, before you glanced back at his curious blue hues again, “I’m sorry.” John shook his head and was already opening his mouth to answer but for once you beat him to the punch, “But thank you, for helping with that.” His mouth shut slowly before he took in a deep breath like he was about to answer before he stopped himself and gave a single nod with a soft smile.

Standing from the bed you reached down to work on buttoning your own pants back. This damn team was gonna give you blue balls before it was all said and done. That wasn’t a worry, that was a fact. There’s no way it wasn’t going to, with how many times these fuckers interrupted the both of you it was a miracle it hadn’t happened yet.

You palmed yourself through the fabric, letting out a deep sigh as you adjusted yourself trying not to think about what you could have been doing if it wasn’t for that fucking phone call. John huffed out behind you, and when you glanced back you saw him doing the exact same thing. Apparently he too was feeling that throb that was refusing to subside. Taking a deep sigh you flexed the muscles in your arms and thighs before you zipped the jeans and fastened the belt again. This was gonna be torturous, almost certainly.

When you glanced back once more John had his face to the ceiling, his eyes shut as he took in a few deep breaths, his jaw tense and the muscles in his neck flexing. Restraining himself from doing something you were almost certain was akin to every time you’d fucked the air because of him. There was a slight grimace on his face that melted away when he realized you weren’t moving anymore. His eyes opened quickly before his blue gaze fixed on you and he tilted his head. Giving him a small smile you cautioned, “Gonna give yourself blue balls there, John. Be careful,” his gaze narrowed as you started to back up towards the door.

He sat up from the wall slowly, sliding to the edge with his gaze still firmly on your slowly retreating form. “Hier, Cerberus,” the dog hurried out from under the table he’d settled underneath once more to join you. A smirk found your mouth before you added to him, “You’ve still got my picture. Don’t think I forgot about it, have fun…Sir,” there was a shift from him on the bed as your eyes darted to the table, his gaze following just as quickly.

The picture he’d tried to take from you sat underneath where you’d left his phone. You heard the light chuckle but sadly you didn’t get the pleasure to see it. The door shut behind you with a thud and you smiled at the ground, face warm and a smile you could no longer hide spread across your face. You glanced up at the sky, a warmth that wasn’t embarrassment or arousal flooded you, something foreign and unknown. It made your heart ache in your chest, but in a way that felt so good it was kind of insane how wide it made you smile despite yourself. God what was he doing to you?

It felt like you were a disney princess and you’d just met your handsome prince for the first time or some bullshit like that. Whatever it was the kids liked to imagine they would run off into the sunset with nowadays. What kind of idiotic, immature emotions were clouding your mind when it came to him? You weren’t sure in all honesty. However, you knew they were good ones, at least good enough to make your mind whirl. It may have been a fucked up fairytale but it was your fucked up fairytale. Not to mention all the sensations rushing through you right now were enough to make you forget how stupid it was to feel like this. This was yours to fuck up now, and there was no way you were letting that man get away. You doubted there was a thing in the world that could keep you from getting your happy ending now.

Shaking your head with a smile plastered to your face, you returned your eyes to the world in front of you. You jolted yourself out of your thoughts, cheeks burning and stomach turning more than a few flips as you headed down the stairs and off on your path. The faster you got this job done the faster you’d be able to get back to him, back to the happiest you’d ever been in your entire life. Work face Speck, get it together. Your smile dropped and you raised a hand to run over your face, clearing it of the easy smile that had been stuck there moments before. Taking in a deep breath you glanced down to the Dutchie at your side as you made your way towards one of the buildings on base. Get your head in the game, there's no telling what you were about to have to do now.

You walked quickly through the hallways, somehow managing to remember the twists and turns all the way back to the interrogation room that had held Labeeb not too long ago. There was a guard standing by the door a little bit down the hall just as there had been the last time. You, however, moved to the other door and raised your knuckles. Your closed fist knocked against it and waited for a few moments. It didn’t take long though before it swung inward, Laswell standing there in front of you before she stepped aside and let you into the room. As you stepped inside your eyes flicked to the one way glass with a sinking feeling creating the beginnings of a pit in your stomach.

One of al-Mustafa’s wives and his son were sitting in a chair in the middle of the white walled room, with a plain metal table in front of her. They'd gotten his first wife, Munisa, a woman in her late thirties from Sierra Leone. At least it hadn't been the second wife with the three daughters, sure that one had been talkative, but every word she'd said had been a lie. Not to mention wrangling three children had made her somewhat immune to things like sleep deprivation and audio torture. The last thing you wanted was to be taking a knife to anyone, that was always a last resort.

You'd held all three of those women and the six children for a week, this was the same woman you’d threatened to kill already, she was never going to tell you anything. She had no reason to, so what was Laswell planning on doing? They hadn’t seen you yet sure, they’d been blindfolded on the way back to base from the warehouse and it was doubtful they would have recognized your voice seeing how easily you changed accents, but this still felt like a bad idea. The confusion was written on your face plainly as Laswell crossed her arms and gestured to the woman through the glass, “I need you to translate.” Really? That’s what had been so damn important she couldn’t wait till John and you were finished? Sure she hadn't known what you were doing, but she'd said ASAP, that you needed to get there now, so why the fuck was it something as stupid as just translating.

The annoyance must have flashed over your features momentarily because you could have sworn there was an amused smile playing at those lips. Like she was privy to information she had no need to know…She probably was, “Something wrong, Speck? Do you have something better to do?” Well no but actually yes. Someone better to do was a more accurate statement.

Your eyes narrowed at her for a moment sensing that somehow she knew, or at least suspected. Shit, had Soap gotten to her as well? Suddenly she gestured for you to follow her, “Play it like you did Labeeb. Relay my questions to her and, what was it you called it last time? Playing your role?” You gave her a slow nod at the questioning tone and she smiled before continuing, “I’ll let you go about it how you see fit. Just get me the information I need.” You followed her out of the observation room, so you did have a real reason for being here then even if you didn't like it. She was using you, that’s fair though, you were a tool. The point of the spear, or at least that was what the Navy had taught you. You stopped as she did in front of the door of the interrogation room, “And I’ll be in there with you, so no going off the rails this time.”

Oh just fuckin great. So now you get another pair of eyes looking over your shoulder. When were people going to learn to just let go of the leash when it came to you? You watched as she typed in her code for the door before she turned the knob. She paused though holding it closed as she turned to look back at you for a few moments with her brows raised expectantly and you finally sighed and nodded, “Yes ma’am. I will stay on the train tracks this time, alright?”

Her smile was pleasant enough as she pushed open the door with a nod. You added in your own thoughts though this time, 'Not like you could understand me if I didn't though.' A hint of that rebelliousness that had made you such a talented leader when you were still a SEAL peeking through your thoughts even as you fought to smother it. Just get the job done, Speck, no need to complicate shit. It was already complicated enough. “Sitz, Cerberus, bleib,” you whispered quietly to the dog, watching him take a seat beside the door before you followed the CIA agent inside.

When she stepped inside though not only did your attitude completely change, hers did as well. You stayed behind Laswell until she broke off to take a seat in the chair across from the woman and her son. As she sat down though you stayed behind the middle aged woman, just out of sight, her young son sitting in her lap with her arms wrapped protectively around him. His back rising and falling slowly as he slept in her arms.

Your jaw tensed at the sight. It had been nearly impossible to look at them the first time you’d taken those women and their children. Now, to look at this sleeping boy wrapped up in his mother’s arms, how did Laswell expect you to make it through this. Especially after you’d unwrapped all those emotions and memories with John and exposed your vulnerability once more. Hell just seeing that kid’s small body made your chest hurt, like an elephant was sitting directly over your heart and refusing to move. There was no way you were gonna make it through this, fuckin hell.

No, Speck. Not now, you had a job to do. You’ve done it how many time before? Just one more time, that’s all you needed. Just one more time and this was all going to be over. So do it. Laswell’s voice sounded first from the table as she addressed the woman, “Munisa?” A dark set of eyes lifted from the table she’d been watching studiously to look directly at the blonde woman in front of her. She didn’t seem to notice there was another person in the room yet, that was fine though, it gave you time to come to terms with your own thoughts. To put your own demons at bay and get your head back on right.

She was definitely one of the women you’d held captive for four days. Jesus fucking christ you couldn’t even look her in the eyes. Hell you could barely even look at her reflection and she still hadn’t even noticed you were there. How was she going to react when she did notice you? Her voice as she spoke made your brows furrow for a moment. She wasn’t hoarse anymore, she was recovering at least. Fuck, get it together Speck. That hadn’t been you, that had been a role you had to play. Quit thinking about it. The past is the past. Three foot world idiot. Play this role now and you never have to look at her again. “No English,” her tone was unsure and cautious, almost distrustful. Still you stayed silent, no need to draw attention to yourself before you were ready.

Laswell nodded quickly to the woman before she answered in English, “I know you don’t speak English. I’ve brought a translator.” You relayed the blonde’s words in Temne, a Niger-Congo dialect. The woman visibly tensed the moment she heard your voice, her shoulders and spine going rigid in the chair. Hell even her arms tightened around the little boy, pulling him tight to her chest. The reaction only made your gaze fall from her reflection, trying to forget what you’d done to cause that and failing miserably. There was no forgetting what you’d done, just get through this.

Your eyes slid back up just as her dark hues darted up to find you in the one way glass, her eyes going wide even as you watched her breathing start to quicken. Oh yeah, she definitely still remembered you. No doubt about that. Somehow you managed to keep away any visible reaction the moment you knew she was watching, and even your voice stayed steady as you translated the agent’s words to the woman. You had done your research on her before you’d met her the first time. Originally she had been from Sierra Leone, in particular the northern province. And as she eyed you, you saw the fear that so many innocents felt when they saw you. She was not the first person to fear the sight of you though, and she likely wouldn’t be the last.

Her hands were near shaking now as she hid her son’s face from your gaze. “Get him out of here. I don’t want that devil anywhere near my son again.” She spoke to Laswell but she couldn’t communicate with the American. Her words were frantic, but there was no meaning there. You watched her as she tried to get it across in Temne, but the blonde woman merely furrowed her brows and looked up at you as if she was oblivious to what you had done to cause the fear in those eyes. As if she couldn’t see terror hidden in those dark, inky pools. Hell Laswell didn’t know though. Sure she could make a good educated guess, but she didn’t really know.

Since you didn’t know the extent of her English you maintained the role even as you spoke to the CIA agent across from her, “She is afraid of Americans, ma’am. This woman does not wish to be corrupted by your country’s loose morals.” Your accent had obviously been from the deep south just a minute ago when you were talking to Laswell outside. Now though it was obviously more local. Not quite recognizable to any particular region, but it was certainly as far from American as one could get. That skin was now shed and you’d slid into a new one, one that had your gaze darkening in a silent threat at her. Play the role and get this shit over with.

Shifting your gaze back down to the woman, you listened as Laswell spoke again, “Tell her not to be afraid. We only wish to ask her a few questions and then she will be free to go.” You nodded slowly and you weighed the words in your mind. Wondering how you could put this without relaying Laswell’s exact words. How to construe the meaning to further your own cause? A silent moment passed as Munisa glanced up at the glass and then back to the blonde woman waiting to hear what she had to say on what was almost certainly bated breath.

Finally you settled on, “We leave when you answer our questions. She can’t understand you, and if you try to tell her something that I don’t like…” Your words trailed off as you watched her in the glass, her eyes darting nervously back and forth between the blonde’s sky blue eyes and your own hues. Munisa started to shake her head slowly, about to refuse to cooperate until you said again, “You know what I am willing to do, think of your son.”

Dark pools flicked down to her son as her grip tightened on the sleeping form clutched in her arms once more. Laswell’s head tilted curiously as she looked up at you wondering what it was you had said even though you were sure she understood the gist of it all. When she looked back up at the blonde woman there was a look almost of acceptance in her eyes. There was nothing she could do but cooperate, not without risking her and her son’s life. The American woman had played her cards right once more. She had used you once again to her own gains, your past which was darkened with the blood of the innocent aiding in her quest to hunt down Al-Mustafa.

Munisa sat a little straighter, her arms still wrapped around her son as she pulled him down into the safety of her bosom. Finally she spoke again and you listened as she did her best to project confidence into her voice, “I will answer her questions. Do not touch my son, you demon.” Under any other circumstances you might have laughed, you definitely would have smiled, but not here and not now. She deserved respect and you wished you could have given it, but it wasn’t your place.

Turning your eyes to Laswell you finally stepped around the table, taking a seat beside the blonde as you translated simply, “She will answer your questions. What do you want to know?” Your eyes narrowed when you noticed the woman across from you swallow hard, she understood that, or some of it at least. You’d have to be careful with your words both in English and in Temne. When you looked back to Laswell you could see the recognition in her eyes as well.

Good. That meant you wouldn’t have to police her words as well. The American woman sat forward then, the file in her hands hitting the table now as she began the interrogation in earnest. “You are the wife of Amaan Al-Mustafa, correct?” You translated for the woman as she gave a slow, cautious nod in the affirmative. “Munisa I need for you to answer me verbally for my records,” again you translated Laswell’s request.

The woman sighed before she gave another, firmer nod and answered, “Yes I am one of Amaan al-Mustafa’s wives. He has two others, but I am his first wife.” It took you a moment to translate the words in your mind. The Niger-Congo dialects were so hard to work through sometimes considering they weren’t actual languages themselves, rather they were just different ways of saying certain words. It made your thoughts pound as you sorted through what she had said, taking a few moments as you stared at the woman now sitting across from you. Both women’s eyes were on you now as the silence began to stretch on, neither really understanding why you still weren’t saying anything. Munisa even went so far as to pull her son closer to her as she watched you, afraid she might have said something that you didn’t like.

Finally though you managed to give Laswell a translation, telling the blonde, “She is only one of al-Mustafa’s wives. He has two more.” Quickly your eyes darted to the darker skinned woman who met your gaze for only a moment before shooting her eyes down to the tufts of curly hair that her son sported. “I believe the other two are named Reema and Raita, they are sisters.” At the mention of the other two women you saw a momentary chink in her carefully created exterior. It wasn’t that much different than your own carefully constructed armor. Your eyes narrowed for a moment as you watched her before you asked her, “What is it? Are you holding out on us, Munisa?” Her jaw tensed as her mouth pressed to the soft, wiry curls atop her son’s precious head.

She started to shake her head, but when she glanced up to find your cold gaze she stopped mid shake. Had her head and neck not been covered you knew you would have seen her throat bobbing as she swallowed. Oh yeah she was definitely holding onto a piece of information, and it was your job to get that information no matter what it took. Sliding the chair back slowly you stood up, stepping around the table to sit on it beside her. Close enough that you could have reached out to touch her if you were so inclined. More importantly though you were closer to the boy now, she jolted at the change and immediately shifted the boy to her other shoulder.

It was a futile attempt to keep him away from you. Your brows knitted together in annoyance even as the little boy began to finally stir from his sleep after his mother had moved him so abruptly. Fuck, just stay quiet kid, please don’t do anything stupid. You couldn’t hurt that kid, no matter how much you tried to bluff and scare her, that was a line you couldn’t cross. It was a line you would toe but the idea of hurting that little boy was hitting too close to home.

Your own son hadn’t been much older than him when you’d last seen him. The memory of holding him as a baby still sat so close to your heart there was no way in hell you’d ever be able to bring yourself to harm the little boy in front of you. Your two kids were the only light you’d gotten from your marriage with Rachel. They were truly the only reason you’d ever even married her and stayed married. How could you put that behind you and harm this innocent child? You couldn’t.

When a pair of chocolate brown eyes lifted to find your face it felt like you were frozen. Hide it, don’t let her see it. If she sees the weakness you will lose every bit of leverage you had over her. She will know. Role, play your role, that’s it play the role. A smile lifted the corners of your mouth, but it never reached your eyes. Laswell stayed silent behind you, a faint memory now as you slid comfortably back into the skin she’d put you into. “Tell me what you’re hiding Munisa,” still her eyes stayed on the table in front of her, not able to bring herself to find your eyes.

She diligently stared back at you, even as her son whispered, “Mommy? What is-'' The woman stopped her son from speaking, trying to pull the boy back down to her chest as she did her best to keep him quiet. The child struggled in her arms though, rarely did children know what was best for them. He pushed himself up off his mother’s chest as you and Laswell both watched her struggling to control the child. Munisa was nearly frantic now as she fought to hold onto the boy. This was about to get out of hand, it was time to intercede. Time to get this over with.

You pushed up off the table and your hands slid underneath the boy’s arms, lifting him off his mother’s lap. The panic in Munisa’s eyes then was obvious, her entire body freezing in her chair. Halfway between standing and sitting with one hand braced on the table and the other on the back of the chair. You held the boy in your arms, narrowing your eyes down at her for a moment before you turned to look at the wide eyed child in your arms. He too was frozen as his gaze darted back and forth between you and his mother. Something that wasn’t quite fear but more like caution in his eyes now. “Munisa,” the woman finally seemed to breathe and forced herself to sit back down in the chair, “What are you hiding?”

Even as you held the boy in your arms she was quiet. There was no chance in the world her loyalties for al-Mustafa were stronger than her protectiveness over her own son. Your gaze shifted back to the boy in your arms who was still watching you with a cautious look, “Your name is Umair yes?” You couldn’t even help the softness that came through in your tone. It only seemed to add fuel to the woman’s fear though. A snake whispering falsities to her son. The little boy nodded in answer then and you gave another soft smile that you somehow managed to keep out of your eyes again.

Moving with the boy in your arms behind his mother and towards the door you felt the woman’s eyes on your back as you moved. Stopping at the door you put a hand on the handle before asking, “Do you like dogs, Umair?” The child in your arms nodded again, the caution beginning to melt away now, and you started to open the door, “Would you like to meet my dog, Umair?” He gave you an excited nod then, nearly vibrating in your arms with expectation. But when you pulled the door open and started to step out, looking down at the dog who hadn’t moved an inch from his place, there was a gasp behind you.

Your eyes shot back to the woman who was standing up now, about to move in your direction before Laswell grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped her. “Stop, please don’t take my son. I-” she stopped herself again, almost as if it was a trained response. It probably was, al-Mustafa always did strike you as the rat bastard type even before you even knew what he looked like. “I can-” again she stopped, seeming to debate with herself but when you looked away from her down to the dog at your feet, the panic seemed to overwhelm whatever block was stopping her from speaking finally. “I can give you Amaan!”

The moment that name came out of Munisa’s mouth, bright blue eyes shot up to find you, waiting for the translation even though she already knew what it was the woman had offered. Cerberus’ head was in the door now, looking up at you with his head tilted. Even he was a silent threat, a monster that this woman had seen the last time she’d been under your control. “She said she’ll give us Amaan,” Laswell nodded slowly and looked towards the woman as you asked her, “How can you give us Amaan? I need a guarantee, Munisa.” Her mouth opened for a minute, her eyes darting between you, her son, and the American woman beside her.

It took a few seconds before she managed to answer back, “He…He is…Amaan will be with Reema and Raita and I can find them for you. I swear it. You dismantled all his contacts in the country, they are the only other people he knows here who aren’t dead. He sent them to a different warehouse with their children, it’s why they weren’t there when you assaulted the building.” You watched her carefully for a few seconds before you glanced down at Cerberus and motioned for him to follow you inside the room. Closing the door you looked at the boy with his wide brown eyes and took a step closer to the woman.

You stopped though when your eyes narrowed, “What do you mean you can find them? Do you not know where they are?” The dark hues flicked back and forth between Umair and you, relief obvious on her face now that you weren’t actively trying to leave with the boy.

Munisa took a moment to compose herself before she finally answered you, “They, well we, all have microchips. Amaan knows where we are at all times. It’s how he found us at that safehouse with the man.” What the fuck? “And I can access that for you, I will give him to you. Just please, do not hurt my son. He is innocent.” Well that was the truth. The poor boy never should have been caught in the middle of this, hell she never should have been caught in the middle of this either.

Wait. Back it up for just a moment. “You are microchipped?” She nodded, your eyes slid over to Laswell where she was still holding Munisa by the shoulder. Quickly you relayed the information to the blonde woman, your stare hardening as the American lost her composure for a moment, seeming almost shocked by the revelation. You certainly were. That man treated them like fucking dogs, hell he treated them more like cattle than dogs. At least most dogs were treated halfway decent.

You’d seen the scars that marked that woman’s body beneath the layers of fabric covering her. God you hated him more than you hated even yourself probably, and that was hard as hell to do. Laswell jumped back into the conversation then, well the interrogation anyway, “Ask her how to access the locations. And ask her where the microchips are located, we need to remove them as fast as possible.” You took another step closer before relaying the questions to the dark skinned woman.

She sighed and her hand settled near where the bone of her hip would have been. No wonder you hadn’t seen it the first time. Yes you were a monster, however you were far from that kind of monster. “I need a computer to access the locations.” You relayed the information to Laswell who was quick off the block. Her phone appeared in her hand with a flick of her wrist, like a magic trick you'd seen from that traveling circus guy one time when you were a kid.

Laswell typed out something quickly before looking back up, "Give the boy back. I will handle the rest, Speck. Be ready to go soon." Your eyes shifted to the boy who was starting to squirm in your arm, your shoulder beginning to ache with the weight of him there. You still weren't healed all the way and you'd nearly forgotten about it until just now. After you'd been holding this precious, young child for long enough to make Soap's stitches sting where they were holding the skin together in your arm.

Munisa's wide eyes still looked between you and her son, her hands raised out in front of her, a pleading look in her eyes. "Yes ma'am," you managed to get out before shifting the boy in your arms and holding him out. The woman snatched the child from you, pulling him into her chest as she hid his face away from you again. Cerberus' weight leaning against your still healing thigh was all that kept your mind from wandering now. The only thing grounding your thoughts.

Lifting your chin you stamped a look of pure neutrality on your face and stepped back, pushed the handle down, and left the room in stride. The guard standing at the door glanced at you for a quick moment before muttering, "Good evening, sir." Their back was stiff, their arms stuck to their sides as they stood at attention. You gave a simple nod to them even despite your own feeling of what you could only describe as exhaustion. It wasn’t in you to be rude to someone who didn’t deserve it though, not when you weren’t having to be ‘Speck’. Thankfully a nod seemed to suffice as their eyes returned to the wall across from them.

Cerberus’ weight against your leg drew your eyes away from them, seeming to pull you out of your raging thoughts once more. God you hadn’t seen your own kids in two years, nearly three now. Turning down the hallway and walking mindlessly through the maze of corridors you couldn’t stop your wandering thoughts. Emma would be almost twenty-one now, a junior in college. Well she might be graduating early actually, she’d mentioned that the last time you’d spoken to her. God that’d been such a long time ago now. Hell Logan was almost eleven now or wait…

You pulled the phone out of your pocket with what was almost panic as you checked the date. Fuck. He’d turned eleven already, two days ago. Yet another birthday that his father had been absent from. A twist of pain churned your stomach at the revelation. You couldn’t even manage a simple facebook message to your own kid? Rachel had been right to call you a deadbeat father. What was it she’d said again? “Just like your real dad, should have known.” A sigh left you as you navigated through the phone, adding the one app you actually used. The last string of connection you actually had to your children and your family back in the States.

Putting in your login you scrolled through your ex-wife’s page, looking at the latest pictures from Logan’s birthday party. His light brown eyes brought out your own smile, even as you continued to feel that ache deep in your gut. A knife of pain you couldn’t escape even as you pressed the button to turn the screen off and shoved the phone back into your pocket. Never should have agreed to get close to Munisa’s boy, never should have opened that damn app, and you never should have even tried to pretend you were straight. All of this heartache could have been avoided if you’d just been truthful with yourself back then.

One hand was on the head of the big Dutchie beside you, the other shoved into the pocket of your pants, finger running against the corner of the phone absently. Your eyes were glued to the tiles passing underfoot. You were so engrossed in said tiles that you didn’t even notice the approaching man ahead. Not until you ran smack into him anyway. A solid chest slammed against your own, jolting you out of your quickly deteriorating thoughts. Your gaze shot up to those almost too familiar ocean blue eyes before you blinked once and took in the sight of him.

His head tilted curiously as he watched you, a firm grip finding the bone of your hip as he steadied you, "Everything ok, love?" Not really but it was nothing he needed to worry about, and nothing that could be fixed by simply talking about. You'd abandoned your children to be here, abandoned your family so you could risk your life over here. There was no fix, nothing he could do, so as far as he was concerned…

"Yeah, I'm good. I's just thinkin," that seemed to spark interest in those eyes. Shit. Should've just left it at, you were good. Say something before he asks, if he has to ask you won't be able to lie about it. The furthest you can get from what you'd just done and what you'd been thinking about, "Bout you." The curious brows lowered and a small smile softened his features.

And like magic your own thoughts began to shift and your tight, nervous smile began to loosen and mirror his own softness. Just the idea of thinking about him turning you into a nearly giddy mess. Your mind wandered to how you'd left him, disheveled and wanting, with your picture within arms reach of where he'd been on the bed. "How'd you like that picture?" A knowing grin found your face when his cheeks started to go red beneath that brunette beard, his eyes darting down the hall as he pulled away from you.

His hands settled on his hips as he watched you for a moment before he sniffed and lifted one hand to wipe nervously at his nose. The same hand smoothed down over his mustache and then scratched at the hairs along his jaw. Damn, that’s what you wanted to do. Just run your fingers through those short hairs that always felt like pin pricks against your skin when he was kissing along your exposed flesh. When you ran your fingers through them though it always felt so soft, so soothing, like when he held you close enough you could feel his heartbeat like a soothing melody against your cheek.

A deep voice jolted you from that dangerous train of thoughts, drawing your eyes up from where you’d been watching his hand running through his beard and back to his blue depths. When you gave him a questioning tilt of the head he did a poor job suppressing his smirk before he said again, “I loved that picture, sweetheart.” He nodded his chin down the hall the way you had come, beckoning you to follow him. Quickly you fell into step beside him with Cerberus at your hip. The small, knowing smirk should have annoyed you but instead it only drew you closer. It made you want to kiss it away. Now there was a thought.

John may have gotten to have his fun but you’d been called away to do some less than enjoyable things. Now that he was here it was all you could do not to jump him in this fuckin hallway. You’d always thought that maybe it was just because you had some good self control, or at least a modicum of self respect. Yeah that was a blatant lie. You’d just never been completely head over heels infatuated and attracted to someone else.

The brunette beside you had completely unraveled the idea you had begun to believe that maybe you just truly weren’t attracted to anyone. Like you’d put yourself above those kinds of feelings. Sure there had been McCann but you’d never acted on those desires and even that had taken years to grow into something more than friendship. Whatever this was with John it was burning hotter than the sun and you knew it was going to consume you if you weren’t careful. Hell, let’s be honest, it was already consuming you, the only option now was to just ride it out and enjoy.

“Are you listening to me or are you still thinking?” Again the man beside you jolted you from your thoughts. Son of a bitch you’d gotten distracted again. You shot him a quick look, finding him already watching you as the two of you took a turn towards the squad room.

Taking in a breath you lifted your chin and offered him an apologetic smile, “Sorry bout that, John.” He shook his head about to say something along the lines of ‘Don’t worry about it,’ or ‘It’s ok, love.’ You didn’t give him the chance though, quickly saying, “I’m listening now though. You’ve got my undivided attention.” You leaned towards him as you walked, your shoulder brushing against his and your lips nearing his ear as you added, “I promise, angel.” The flush in his cheeks, which had finally begun to recede, returned in an instant and he smiled a bit wider, clearly still enjoying the name you’d given him.

There wasn’t a chance in hell you were about to let him think that you didn’t care about what he had to say. You’d been on the receiving end of that for twenty years, you knew how that felt. No one deserved that shit, especially not him. This man deserved the world and you’d give it to him if you could.

He stopped outside the squad room and put in the code for the door before he pushed it open and repeated himself, “Laswell texted me and said we had new intel finally. I’m guessing you had something to do with that, eh?” You gave him a quick nod in response as you followed him into the squad room. At least you didn't have to nearly kill someone to get the information this time.

The squad room was devoid of the others, either they were on the way or they hadn’t gotten the call yet. That was fine, you didn’t want to deal with all of them right now anyways. You’d had enough of their bullshit for one day already. John didn’t even know that they all knew. Fuck, they all knew. You really should tell him that they all knew exactly what both Soap and Ghost had seen in their Captain’s bunkhouse. God that was gonna be a hard conversation to have to say the least.

Not right now though. John still wasn’t done talking, pay attention, “I didn’t think you’d have time to go back to my bunkhouse so I went ahead and fixed the shirt back how you had it. Everything’s inside it and I locked the door, it’ll be safe in there.” This man was a fuckin dream, no one deserved him, especially not someone like you. God he was perfect.

John slid a key into the lock of the door to his office before he opened it and led you inside, “Laswell was about to call all the boys in, probably within the hour, anyway.” Again you gave him a quiet nod to show you were listening, unsure how else to engage in the conversation. It was still weird having someone trying to talk to you rather than just talking and expecting you to listen. You felt almost like you were navigating a minefield of what to do and what not to do. Except you had the overwhelming feeling that Price would never explode at you the same way that your ex-wife would have.

You didn’t notice the quiet look he leveled at you, concern riddling his expression for just a moment before he hid it when your eyes found him once more. “You sure you’re ok, love?” A simple nod and smile were all he received in answer before you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Just smile and nod and eventually he’ll believe…right?

He leaned back against the desk, his hands bracing on the edge as he fixed you with a narrow eyed look. Well damn. Yeah he wasn’t believing your smiles and nods anymore. You’d been quiet for too long and he was on to you. Speak, now, or he’ll drag this shit out of you by force, “I’m fine, Price.” That name had him shifting against the desk, his face going blank as he receded into his own thoughts for just a quick moment before you managed to add, “Kinda disappointed I didn’t get mine today since you’ve been keeping me so well satisfied but other than that I’m just…peachy.” You couldn’t help the small smile that turned up the corner of your mouth at that. He didn’t understand it, but you did, and it served to make the heartache just a bit lighter.

A bandaid over the emotional pain you’d just been fighting so diligently to hide from him. The hint of a smile on your mouth, what had been a mask moments before, was now turning more genuine by the second. Even if you didn’t truly feel it at first just pretending seemed to go a long way as you focused on the brunette and the expression he wore which was quickly becoming more and more flustered. God he was adorable, he was everything you’d never experienced before, and he was quickly becoming the only source of happiness in your otherwise lonely and dull life. Shit.

John huffed and shook his head, his hands releasing the edge of the desk and they were about to cross over his chest before an impulsive thought shot through you. Your hand reached out and took his of its own volition, without even consulting with your mind for its opinion. You held the weight of it in your palm, your eyes tracing the lines along the back of his hand, the faded scars and the popping veins and the dark hairs that covered his skin like a fine dust. It was an experiment with the feel of both of your calluses rubbing together, the rough texture of dry, well-used hands running across one another. It was a foreign feeling to hold another person’s hand, especially a man’s, but it felt…good. Warm. Heat seemed to radiate off every part of his body, warming what you hadn’t even realized was ice in your veins until just now.

The open wounds of your soul stitched together merely by his presence alone. A balm for your aching soul with the addition of his touch. It was a soothing sensation that you usually only felt running over your thighs and hips when the both of you were naked and panting and needy. Now though, with it running against the worn and torn skin along your own palm it wasn’t nearly as sensuous, but damn if it didn’t feel ten times more intimate than anything you’d had with him recently.

Hell it was reminiscent of the first night you’d met this man who was changing your life one step at a time. When you’d been sitting on his couch and he was doing everything in his power to keep you wanting for more from him. It wasn’t like you’d never held hands before, it wasn’t a foreign concept to you, but his was the first you’d ever actually wanted to hold before and been able to hold without the possibility of guilt or shame swallowing you whole like a pit in the earth. There was truly never any shame when it came to John Price, not unless you were the one making it anyway.

Swallowing hard, your gaze shot up, looking up at him beneath long eyelashes to find him watching you with a quizzical expression. Curious as to what you were doing, but obviously pleased to be the one you were doing it with. You couldn’t blame him, it was doubtful you’d have done this with anyone else but him. Was this what all those old country songs were about, or any song really. Not the slow and sad ones but the other ones, the ones you watched couples dance to at bars. The ones who always made your chest tighten while a longing for something you’d never experienced before rose in your chest.

“What’s your favorite song?” The question escaped you before you could stop it. Your brows furrowed and your forehead wrinkled up at the memory of the pain that sat right at the tip of your sternum where your xiphoid process sat just beneath the skin. It traveled upwards, making your throat tighten almost painfully before you forced it down, still watching him carefully. Though you did release your grip on his hand then, sitting back in the chair with a nervous glance down at your still warmed palm. The scratch of where his calluses had run along the length of your own still fresh in your mind.

Your question must have caught him off guard just as much though because he didn’t answer even when you finally looked back up at him. His face was set in stone, his expression and features chiseled into the wall of granite he’d been carved out of, marred only by the occasional scar and the dark, flat moles that occasionally dotted his skin. It was almost like he didn’t understand the question so he didn’t want to answer, or maybe he wasn’t sure how to answer. It was your turn to be a bit more forceful though it would seem, “I asked what your favorite song was, John. I’d rather not have to ask again.” The ocean hues were boring into you as they narrowed now, his intense gaze setting your face on fire though his mirrored your own. A light flush working its way onto his skin.

Ignore it and he will answer, don’t give into him this time, stay strong. That was probably the hardest thing in the world to do though. Not give in to him? John Price? The man who you literally couldn’t deny anything, even when your life was in danger. Even when he had a gun to your head. It felt like an eternity of this. His blue gaze stuck on your face, eyes watching and examining with deliberate slowness. Almost like he was trying to throw you off as much as your question seemed to have thrown him.

Finally though he cleared his throat and gave you an unsure shrug, “Don’t really have a favorite song, love. Just listen to whatever strikes my fancy at the time.” You leaned over, resting your elbow on the arm of the chair as you watched him now, your hand raising to rest your mouth against the back of the knuckles on your hand. He shifted against the desk again before his arms finally managed to cross over his chest without you impeding their progress this time.

There was a weakness there, you weren’t certain what it was causing it but you could see it. Your relentless gaze picking away at it as he tried to hide it, tried to hide his shifting hips and his gaze that would flick away for half a second before finding yours once more. It was barely noticeable, almost like it wasn’t happening at all. Had you been of weaker mind and spirit you might have believed that it wasn’t, that it was your mind playing tricks on you.

At least up until he sighed and muttered, “Quit looking at me like that.” Huh? Your face lifted back up, hand dropping to hold onto the arm rest. You tilted your head curiously. He finally couldn’t help it, his mouth splitting into a smile as he said simply, “Don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” You shook your head in answer and he relaxed finally, you could see the muscles untense and his posture slouch just a bit, “Feels like you’re interrogating me. Mind not doing that, Speck?”

Your face broke out into a wide grin then, “Oh, is that what’s got ya all shifty and flustered?” John huffed in amusement and shook his head. His fingers were still digging into his biceps though and when they tightened you knew you were right. “Just tell me whatcha like to listen to, angel.” His mouth tightened into a thin line, his eyes shutting for just a moment as he controlled some kind of urge.

Of course you didn’t know why he was controlling it but maybe he just wasn’t in the mood, or maybe yall didn’t have the time. Whatever the reasoning was didn’t matter though because he finally gave in, his voice dropping almost a whole octave as his gaze landed on you once more, “I like a little bit of everything. Ever since that night we met though I’ve been…” He stopped and watched you for just a moment before he asked, “Why don’t I just play it for you, eh love?” Oh now that was interesting. You couldn’t help but sit forward in the seat at the offer, a nod signaling that yes he most definitely should just play it for you.

He fished in his pocket for his phone as you stated quickly, “I haven’t heard any good music in years. Most I’ve gotten the privilege to hear was some damn elevator music during my time in the UK.” You smirked a bit at that, it wasn’t a humorous smirk though, it was one almost of disdain for the financial situation you’d found yourself in over the past few years. There was a quizzical look in the other’s eyes before you shrugged and gave him an easy smile to ease what you took almost as worry from him, “I can’t afford any of those apps and I haven’t been back in the US for a while. And any music out here I can’t really enjoy, not like the music back home. I’m too worried I’m about to get shot in the head every damn second I’m outside the wire. And the music’s good, but it’s not…It’s not what I grew up with, ya know?”

John’s hand lowered slowly with the phone still in it, the heavy phone finding the desk beside where he was leaning against it. You held up a finger though, glancing to the side in thought before you corrected, “I take that back actually. Soap was kind enough to serenade all of us in the showers when we got back. So I have heard that ‘music’ if you can call it that.” Your eyes darted back to his face to find his soft little smile, a pleasant reminder of the good that surrounded you when he was near.

The Brit chuckled a bit and nodded, “I can imagine. That’s why I always get in and get out as fast as possible. Anything to avoid listening to Katy Perry and Celine Dion on a loop. Kid has a set of lungs on him. I can tell you that.” Your smile turned genuine once more and you gave a short laugh. John’s smile widened and he leaned forward, grabbing your hands before hauling you out of the chair. Widening his stance until your hips were slotted perfectly between his thighs, “What kind of music do you like then, love? Pop? Rock? Or uh I think Ghost likes that loud stuff, heavy metal, you like that?” Your gaze slid down from his eyes to his mouth before returning to those deep pools you could have drowned in, and would have willingly if he’d asked.

His head tilted questioningly before you shrugged and answered, “You mean like when I’m back in the US?” John nodded in answer, his hands snaking around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles against the point of your hip seemingly absent-mindedly. You were anything but. It made your skin run hot, a searing burn running directly up from where he’d planted his hands at your waist and flushing across your cheeks in red hot waves. Swallowing hard you had to force your mind to focus, your mouth opening to answer though for the first couple tries it stayed stubbornly silent. At least until you managed to answer, “Guess I’m a bit of a cliche, John. Country music usually, new and old, I don’t really discriminate.”

John gave a slow, almost appreciative and understanding, nod. One hand slid up your side, on a warpath north. Your shirt caught against his palms and bunched in certain places before it crossed the threshold at the collar. Fingers were sliding over the muscle of your neck before stopping at the line of your jaw, “That’s not a cliche. Just a by-product of circumstance. I imagine it’s comforting to hear the music of home, sweetheart.” His fingers were still resting against your jaw as his thumb ran against the point of your chin. Barely more than a soft swipe over the facial hair that had grown there.

His mouth turned up in a gentle smile before he pulled gently at the hairs there and whispered, “The beard looks good on you.” The fingers holding your face pulled you down towards his mouth, but before you could reach what you so desperately sought he stopped your downward descent and whispered in front of your lips, “I mean it. Looks amazing,” your eyes darted between both of his, seeking sincerity and of course you found it. He was always sincere. John Price did not give idle or false compliments, he sought the truth and he told the truth. Always.

The grip on your chin loosened and he let you finally press your lips to his. Soft and sweet, so much of what you never knew you needed from someone. This wasn’t the ‘tough love’ you were so used to receiving, this was a tender sort of care. His hand slid around to the back of your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you leaned into him. John’s free hand rested at the small of your back, holding you close as the two of you enjoyed one another. You were losing yourself in him, in his touch and the way your facial hair rasped against his.

When he pulled back it took you off guard, leaving your mind feeling as if it was missing a vital piece of itself. An ache starting in your chest as he watched you, until you managed to open your eyes and find his soft gaze. Your eyes glanced down to where your hands were bracing on either side of his hips against the desk. Finding his blue hues once more with your head tilted questioningly and your mind on the verge of annoyance at being stopped for the second time today. And this time it wasn’t even some out of the loop third party, it was the fucker you were trying to…well…fuck.

The hand at the small of your back was suddenly gone as John reached for his phone once more. You hadn’t heard it ring or buzz, what the fuck was he doing? Why were you being left high and dry? What was so damn important on that fuckin phone that he felt it was necessary to leave you wanting?

And then the music started. The annoyance that had begun to appear on your face falling away like the drop of a hat. Your expression went blank as the melody rolled out of the phone’s speaker. You stared down at the screen for a few seconds, the album cover for Cody Johnson’s On My Way To You staring back at you as it played. It was clear you weren’t sure what he was doing, or even how to react as your eyes returned to his face.

John couldn’t help the small smile on his mouth as he set the phone back down on the desk and asked, “This one good? This is your kind of music then?” Your confused expression changed then to almost a bewildered amusement, a short chuckle leaving you before you saw the amusement mirrored in his eyes as well. His hands found your hips again before he stood from where he’d been sitting on the desk, pushing you back a step as he muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes then, love.”

Your arms slipped around his waist as you sighed and nodded, “Yeah John, this is my kinda music.” He gave a satisfied nod, seemingly proud of himself. The lyrics were turned into a whisper, somewhat muted by the snort you couldn’t muffle and the expression on the brunette’s face that you couldn’t quite place. “How did you even get this? You got one of them fancy apps or somethin?” John shrugged as his hands slid a bit further around, his forehead leaning down to rest against yours even as you felt the fingers digging into the flesh of your backside.

It wasn’t completely unexpected when you felt him rock you a bit in his arms, your foreheads pressed against one another and his hands keeping the two of you locked together. It may not have been what you initially wanted but you had to admit, this was just as good. Maybe it was even better, actually. A soft smile found its way onto your lips as you listened to the words playing.

Your eyebrows rose as you suddenly felt his chest vibrate against yours and he hummed along to the song, not quite believing what you were hearing even as he whispered the words, “All the damage done, I was just passin’ time, kinda just passin’ through, on my way to you.” It was shocking enough to hear the Brit singing a country song, it was even more shocking to hear him sounding so familiar and so easily American as he did it.

Brunette brows rose as he watched you during the short silence in between the verse and the chorus. His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he held his smile at bay. The deep voice went quiet as the two of you returned to listening to the song, his arms rocking you steadily though not actually in time with the music. Just enjoying the dancing and the closeness that it brought without having to worry about being on beat.

Lips pressed lightly to your forehead before he pulled you closer, your cheek resting on his shoulder and his chin on yours. Your throat felt tight and only seemed to get more so as you strained to get out the words, “All the boats I’ve missed, all the hell I’ve cause, all the lips I’ve kissed, all the love I’ve lost, I thank God for that, I guess he always knew, I was on my way to you.” In all your life you’d never felt the need to cry so much. Hell you’d never been so close to someone that you felt comfortable doing that. It was an overwhelming sensation though, a feeling you couldn’t hold onto anymore though.

The tears slipped down your cheeks in rivulets, staining the shoulder of his shirt. And as the two of you continued to dance slowly to the music, even as the song changed, you could feel even him relax against you. It wasn’t just you. John was feeling it too. Tears were soaking your shoulder as he found comfort for whatever it was ailing him in your touch. Two halves of a whole that had finally been pieced together to put two of what seemed like the most distanced of people in one another’s path. And thank God for that.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

IT'S FINALLY DONE. HALLELUJAH!!!!!! I did it, I made it, holy shit I'm sorry it took so long, but finally it is here. Enjoy your meal my lovely readers.

Also the art is from @foreverrunningfree We love to see a good ole southern boy Speck just chillin in his cutoff jeans. Thanks for letting me use the art for the chapter Bones!!! Been waiting to put it on here so everyone can see this beautiful work.

Part 10

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 20.2k

Synopsis: We got a lot going on in this one, I ain't gonna lie. Pretty much just the aftermath of Soap and Ghost walking in on them (barging and running in on them) and Speck finally trying to deal with his past (in a healthy and productive way).

Warnings: Some NSFW towards the end and just the usual descriptions of past abuse for Speck. I'm passing out Speck lore like ain't nobodies business.

Water slid down your face, the warm air around you drying the light sheen from your shower too fast now. You'd hoped it would keep you cool at least for the walk back to the bunkhouses but that didn't seem to be a possibility. Not with the way the sun was glaring down at you from on high in the dry heat of eastern Iran. Damn you wanted to get out of here. A sudden nostalgia for home rang in your mind. A desire for the pine barrens of the south, the red clay that stuck to everything and could destroy a brand new pair of boots in a matter of minutes, and would undoubtedly destroy every item of clothing you owned.

There was a sigh from you as you pushed the thoughts back, no reason to think about a place you'd never be going back to, right? That ship had sailed a long, long time ago. About the same time you'd signed your new contract and sold yourself to the highest bidder. A decision you were starting to regret, but it wasn't all that terrible. Especially considering it had led you right into John's bed, led you to the man who was starting to change you so completely in body, mind, and soul you weren't sure you'd ever recover from him. You certainly wouldn't ever recover when you eventually had to leave.

Opening the door of your bunkhouse with a sigh at the thought you glanced around the room, tossing the towel and the pair of clothes you'd changed out of onto the growing pile by the door. The room was devoid of life, no Lieutenant, no Sergeant, and no Cerberus. How in the hell had they even gotten your dog? Had you left him in the bunkhouse last night?

God you couldn't even remember the course of events yesterday. Your mind was so scrambled after the intense anger of losing your talisman and then the morning you'd had with John. You'd been at every end of the emotional scale in the last thirty six hours and it was taking its toll on your memories of the time. And you didn't even have Cerberus here to ground you, hell you didn't have anything to help keep your mind from wandering right now. You were going to have to track them down if you wanted your dog back it seemed. Couldn't afford to lose Cerberus too.

With another sigh you headed out again, glancing up at the sun with a tilt of your head. There was a moment of stillness as you considered the bright, frustratingly hot orb sitting in the sky above. Your internal thoughts pondered for a quick moment, there was so much you needed to fix. Get Cerberus back, find Wade and apologize, and then handle Ghost and Soap before they decided to blabber everything to the rest of their team. If they even could be handled, that is, you didn't exactly have much leverage on them and their Captain wasn't here to give it to you. Hell it'd probably be worse if he was there with you.

Where the hell would they even be right now? It was the middle of the day, they could be anywhere. The gym, Soap and Gaz's bunkhouse, the squad room, the mess hall- The thought crossed your mind then as you muttered to yourself, "That hungry bastard's probably is in the mess, who am I kidding?" You'd seen the way Soap ate at every meal. The man was an actual garbage disposal, the Scotsman would eat absolutely anything, anytime, anywhere. It was almost impressive. He was constantly shoving as many calories as he could down his throat as if someone was going to steal his food. To be fair though you did the same thing, a bad habit of growing up with siblings. You ate whatever you could whenever you could otherwise you'd be starving.

Glancing down the path you made for the mess hall, mentally preparing yourself for the blackmailing you'd have to start doing in order to keep the Lieutenant's and Sergeant's mouths shut. Sure while you were in the moment you'd kept your head on straight. Kept yourself from going red in the face. You'd even kept yourself from mouthing off and showing the embarrassment and frustration of being caught ass up in their Captain's bed. Your face was burning just at the mere thought of them seeing you naked next to their just as naked Captain. You'd never been caught doing anything like that, and especially not with a man. Good God it was downright shameful, this whole situation was and it had your anxiety flaring about what they'd think of that imagery.

You'd had to go to take a shower just to keep yourself from having a damn panic attack when you left the Brit's bunkhouse. Now John he'd been upset, sorry, almost apologetic before you'd been forced to leave. He'd been telling you he was sorry and that he'd wanted to tell them the right way after everything was settled, not like this. Not getting caught almost in the middle of the act, well right after the act anyway, you weren't as bad Ghost and Soap were. And then right in the middle of his apologies and that sinfully passionate kiss the man's phone had gone off with a string of notifications. It was a crime how often the two of you seemed to get interrupted, but it had happened again like it always did. His phone had buzzed and he was off answering the call of duty like he was supposed to, like it was expected of him to do.

While John had been sorry it hadn’t seemed like the fact that they had found out was what had irked him. He'd been sorry about how they'd found out. But you? The second you left his bunkhouse you’d been all nerves and jittery anxiety. In your experience the military didn’t exactly support…your lifestyle. Hell, no one you’d ever really known before supported your choices…your desires…the way God made you. But then weren’t Ghost and Soap doing the same thing? Hell you’d literally caught them doing it. You’d quite literally walked in on them together and then saw Soap's preening afterwards. Huh, you hadn't thought about that fact until just now. Maybe it was ok then…doubtful.

At least with them you didn’t have to worry about the backlash of someone finding out you were gay. What about the rest of them though? God and you'd been with their fuckin Captain. With the Captain John Price. Veteran SEALs told stories about that man’s black ops. The CIA operatives you’d met in your life working with the Navy and the contracting company worshiped the ground he walked on. You may not have known much about him before you’d met him but you’d known he was a man that deserved respect. Hell if you’d been given the opportunity when you were still in the Navy you’d have jumped at the opportunity to work with the man. It was a career high. A phenomenal way to further your career was to get yourself into an operation with that man.

You’d certainly gone far past just working with him though, hadn't you? So far past working him it was laughable, and it felt good to do it too. Well in the moment anyway. Afterwards you always felt a little bit…worried maybe? Concerned? No, those weren't the right words. Ashamed was probably a closer approximation to the way you always felt afterwards. It wasn't that you regretted finding your way to his bed every time, but it wasn't exactly easy for you to admit how much you enjoyed finding yourself there. Maybe it was guilt? Price was the only man you'd ever been with before, the only person you'd ever actually enjoyed being with and it made you feel guilty for always enjoying your time with him when you never could have done the same with your ex-wife.

With a shake of your head you pushed open the door to the mess hall and pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. You couldn't think about that when you had to handle Ghost and Soap. There was work to be done and you were a master at compartmentalization. You could keep things packed away until it was a better time to deal with it. You'd kept the death of your team packed away for two years, shame and guilt about fucking a man should be a walk in the park in comparison. Right?

Countless bodies were milling about inside the mess hall. They were shoving past you to head outside and grazing against your back to head inside as well. It was a mess of soldiers in their uniforms right now. A packed out lunch rush that made your eyes widen for a moment at the sheer number of people inside right now. There were even more people in here than the last lunch rush you'd experienced with them. There were so many people it was hard to even see through the throngs of them. At your first glance over the crowd you didn't see anyone you knew but your stomach growled at the smell of food. Your nostrils flared as you took in a deep breath and went straight for the line, following the need of your stomach.

As you stood in the line your eyes scanned the bustling room. A guy as big as Ghost should stick out. The guy wore a big ass skull mask everywhere he went for fuck's sake. Not to mention he was absolutely huge, like a billboard on the side of the damn road, he was impossible to miss. The Lieutenant should have stuck out like a sore thumb and yet you didn't see that big bastard anywhere. Nor did you see the Scottish jackass he was always with, nor did you hear his laughing voice. At this point you weren't even standing in line to scope out the area anymore, you were just standing here to waste time.

But honestly could you even leave now? You'd just gotten your tray and the man behind the counter was scooping some of the food onto it. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good opportunity to eat now. Stopping to get a tray of food wouldn't slow you down all that much anyway, would it? So you finished moving through the line, letting the men and women behind the counter shovel out whatever the hell they wanted. You weren’t picky. Hell you couldn’t afford to be picky. Not the way you grew up and especially not in your line of work. You never knew when or where your next meal might come from.

Stepping out of the line with the tray you scanned the mess hall again, pursing your lips in thought when you didn’t find the two men you were so desperately looking for, even now after giving it more than a few minutes. A quick glance around one more time and you made the quick decision that you weren’t about to eat in a room full of strangers who all had their own social groups. Not while you were completely alone. Might as well just go and eat outside, at least then you wouldn’t feel like you were back in highschool and were the weird kid who did have any friends. Fuck that.

Making for the door you hurried through the crowded bodies. As you opened the door, a shoulder slammed into you and caught you completely off guard as you scrambled to balance your tray of food in one hand. Pulling it towards your chest before you focused on stopping the wild sloshing of the cup of water in your other hand.

Turning a hard glare on the passerby you stared at their back as they walked further into the mess hall, the bitch didn’t even turn to look back at you. What the hell is wrong with some people? You backed up a step with a sigh and a shake of your head in annoyance and watched the door shut. As it did you turned with a quiet, “Some people ain’t got manners,” and slammed directly into a brick wall of a body.

The tray of food spilled all down the front of a long sleeve black t-shirt and a pair of khaki cargo pants. Your eyes went wide as you stared directly at the chest in front of you. Slowly your gaze slid up the tall form to look up at the tall German. An imposing form with his dark green eyes, dark red hair, and black face mask that obscured all his other facial features aside from a couple scars around his right eye and across his forehead.

“Scheisse! Pass auf, wohin du gehst!” The tall man stepped backwards with an angry glint in his eyes. His dark red brows knitted together as he looked down at the ruined shirt and pants. Konig smacked desperately at the food clinging to his clothes, trying to clean himself off with desperate flicks of his hands all over the front of his body. Of course you’d run into one of the masked ones, couldn’t be someone who wasn’t over a half a foot taller than you, could it?

Your ears perked up at those first three German words, you knew what those meant right there and you could use your context clues to figure out that he was telling you to watch where the fuck you were going. Which honestly was a bit fair considering you’d just spilled an entire tray of food and full glass of water all over his pants, the man looked like he’d just pissed himself now. His shirt was clinging to him now as well, and pieces of steamed broccoli, mashed potatoes, and some kind of mystery meat were stuck to his pants. Your eyes were wide as you looked him over quickly and gave him an apology, “Oh shit Konig, my bad.”

This whole situation would have been hilarious probably if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked so pissed off. And the fact that the guy had already knocked the wind out of you just trying to “help” as he’d called it. God you could still feel the sting of his palm between your shoulder blades. The urge to run began to edge its way into your mind. You couldn’t have overpowered the German but you could at least make a break for it, and you were confident you could hide long enough to keep yourself from getting turned into mince meat.

The second you spoke though Konig was lifting his face to actually take a look at you. The tall man glanced one more time down at his clothes and then back at you before the frustration melted away and he waved it off, “I did not realize it was you, Speck. Do not worry about it, my friend. You just surprised me, I’m sorry for running into you.” His hand lifted to run across the back of his neck, and his eyes had crinkled at the corner as if he was smiling.

Was he nervous? You looked a bit closer, your own brows furrowing in concentration as you studied his expression for a split second. That was definitely nervousness you just heard in his voice. God this tall motherfucker just kept getting stranger and stranger. He could have decked you right then and there and to be honest you would have just nodded because that would have been fair. Instead he seemed almost anxious to have upset you or something, he was so strange. Though to be fair everyone on this team had some kind of weird quirk. Some of them more than others, the image of your new roommate flashed in your mind as you smirked.

Konig’s head tilted somewhat when he saw the corner of your mouth tilt up as the thought crossed your mind. Then you saw his eyes widen the tiniest bit in concern, the green hues shifting down to look at himself and then back up as he asked, “What? Is it the food? Should I change? Soap said the meeting was urgent though…” He seemed to be debating and for a moment you weren’t listening all that much truthfully. However, the second Soap’s name came out of his mouth you were all ears.

“Soap called a meeting?” Your eyes narrowed curiously at the tall man. The tall man gave a quick nod and a little hum of affirmation as his attention returned to his clothes. He was still working to wipe the food you’d spilled on him off, pieces of whole broccoli laying in the dirt now. “He can do that?” Your face scrunched up questioningly and there was a slight tilt to the tall man’s head in response. He obviously didn’t quite understand what you meant.

It seemed to dawn on him a few seconds later what you meant and he quickly went red across the top of his cheekbones right above where the mask cut off his face, and he shook his head, “No, no, not a meeting as in a mission briefing. This is more of a…well a gathering? Of friends I guess? He just sent a priority alert to the group chat so we are expected to answer the call…Or the text as it were." He glanced towards the door of the mess hall and then back towards you with his head tilted curiously as he asked, "Did you not get the text?" He seemed confused as he watched you. Those green eyes for once were holding eye contact with you unlike how he usually looked just past you or down at the ground.

A sigh left you as you shook your head in answer, "Kinda hard to get a text when I don't have your phone number." Konig seemed to realize the blunder immediately and he looked away and you noticed the red flush of his face grow a bit more where you could just barely see it. Finally you added with a huff of amusement, trying to defuse his obvious tension, "Don't have a phone neither, so…you know. Kinda hard to get any kind of text without that one man." Your smile turned up the corner of your mouth again, doing your best to put him at ease, but that wasn’t exactly your strong suit.

Konig laughed nervously a bit as he gave you a sheepish nod, “I forgot about that. I am sorry. It feels as if you have been here a lot longer than just over a week.” When you just kept looking at him for a moment he shifted on the balls of his feet and glanced towards the mess hall once more. Then he was clearing his throat as he said in a bit of a deeper voice, almost as if he was starting to regain his confidence, or trying to do so at least, “Well if you would like to come I am sure the others would not mind. Come!” His hand moved towards your shoulder but stopped just shy of making contact as he gestured with a nod towards the door you’d just come out of.

They were in the mess hall? You’d just come from there though. There’s no way they were actually in there. He didn’t seem to be willing to let you question him on this though so rather than make a big deal about it you just shrugged and moved towards the door again. Stepping back into the mess hall you tossed the now empty tray onto the others where they were stacked next to the trashcan before turning back towards Konig to follow him.

The tall man hadn’t even stopped, obviously not noticing that you’d stopped for a moment. Now he was halfway across the mess hall and you were about to lose sight of him through the crowd. Good Lord he was fuckin fast. Pushing through the crowd you basically had to jog to catch back up to him. By the time you got back to him he was already opening a door you hadn’t even noticed and was stepping inside. Before you even stepped inside though you heard Watcher’s voice asking Konig, “How’s ya got yer pants wet? Were ya gettin pished without me?”

Konig laughed nervously before he answered, “Ah nein. Speck,” he stepped further into the room so you could look around what was almost just like the squad room with some chairs around a table though it lacked all of the appliances. It was almost like a little mini mess hall with just enough room for all of the guys. Konig continued as you finally caught sight of the short, young, ginger man, “He spilled his food on me, it was an accident though. Just a little collision when he was leaving the mess hall. I figured if we were having a team meeting though I should bring him along. He is part of the team, yes?”

The moment that the German stepped out from in front of you though you stopped paying attention to what he was saying, otherwise you probably would have given him another apology about the food. You, however, were now too busy staring directly at Soap and the big Lieutenant who was beside Gaz and who was still holding onto Cerberus’s lead with a tight grip. It was reminiscent of when Ghost had done just that while Price was interrogating you as Cerberus lunged against his lead excitedly. The only difference was that this time he didn’t have a muzzle strapped to his face.

Ghost glanced down at the dog and then back at you before you saw the hint of amusement in those eyes as he let the lead go. Cerberus shot forward like a rocket, slamming into you with the full weight of his body as he lunged at you. The powerful Dutchie slammed into your chest full force, knocking the wind out of you before you even really knew what was happening. Your eyes widened as you barely had time to lift your arms in time to catch him. You were standing there holding the dog now like he was a toddler as he squirmed in your arms and his tongue slid along your face. Covering your skin in saliva, and he caused your teeth to slam together more than a few times as he accidentally headbutted you.

Now typically a little bit of dog drool wouldn’t have been all that interesting to you, you would have just wiped it off with the back of your hand and kept going about your day normally. You’d been dealing with hyperactive dogs your entire life, drool was nothing to you…usually. Now though you were contemplating dropping Cerberus to wipe it all off as it clung to your growing beard and cheeks. “Nein! Pfui!” You were straining to say the words as you turned your head away from the dog’s mouth, the last thing you wanted was Cerberus’ tongue finding its way past your lips. God no.

Whines escaped the dog’s maw as you grumbled again, “Nein.” At the word being spoken again the whines only grew in volume as if you’d just smacked the poor Dutchie across the face. Your eyes shot up to Ghost who was snickering under his mask, just barely audible as he sat back in his chair at the table. The man seemed to be having the time of his life right now watching as you had to hold the dog in both arms. Cerberus’ head on your shoulder and his paws hooked over each shoulder like he was hugging you around the neck and whining as if he was begging you never to leave him alone again.

To be fair you’d never actually left him alone with anyone else to take care of him so he probably was begging you to never leave again. You however were now dripping with dog drool while using your shoulder to wipe it all off and glaring at Ghost. It didn’t even phase the other man though as he continued to snicker behind his mask while you sat the dog back down on the ground and gave him a few rough scratches on the head. A vain attempt to calm him as best you could.

Cerberus continued to dance nervously on his paws even as you took in the sight of Ghost kicked back in a chair with his feet propped up on the table. Gaz was sitting next to him eating a sandwich while Soap was on the other Sergeant’s side with a wide, very telling smile on his face like he was in possession of the world’s juiciest piece of gossip. And after a quick moment of thought you realized he probably was after the morning you’d had.

Oh just fuckin great.

“Hell naw,” you muttered under your breath and just barely managed to suppress a shake of your head. You had Cerberus back, you didn’t need to be here any longer. He could tell the rest of the team without you needing to be here. Fuck this. Turning on a heel you started back out the door. It wasn’t even a second later a hand grabbed your arm and stopped you dead in your tracks. Glancing down at the skeleton gloves you groaned aloud, already so done with what was no doubt going to be the most stressful situation of the week and you’d defused a bomb a couple days ago.

Cerberus’s nose pressed into your thigh seeking your attention, his tail wagging as he looked up at you with bright eyes. Taking a deep breath you turned to find Ghost who was, without a doubt in your mind, smirking behind that mask. His eyes flicked to the table and he gestured with a jerk of his chin to an empty chair before he let go of your arm for a moment. For a quick moment you considered making a run for it. Why not, you know? You were already at the door, you had your dog with you, and you’d already proven you could beat all these sons of bitches in a footrace.

A voice at the back of your mind stopped you though. It told you that it would only make things ten times worse if you didn’t go over there and just deal with it. Smile and nod right? That’s how you got through twenty years of a marriage you had despised. What was five minutes of bearing the shame of being Captain Price’s bitch? Just get it over with, rip the bandaid off. Fuck it.

So you took a seat at the table, with Cerberus finding himself a spot underneath your chair, and you were unable to suppress the shaking of your head this time. Ghost took his seat next to Gaz once more, while Soap sat up in his chair to slide a little bit closer to the tray of food in front of him. Watcher and Konig didn’t miss a beat as they took their seats next to you on either side. As soon as you sat down Konig turned his green eyes back to Soap with his head tilted, “Why are we meeting here Soap? You said it was urgent.”

In an instant, at the German’s prompting, the Scotsman snaked his arm around Gaz’s shoulders and his hand raised in an arc as if he was painting a rainbow in the air. “Picture it. Price drops a fuckin dog off at our bunkhouse in the middle of the night, isn’t that right Gaz?” His eyes shot to the man he was currently holding close to his side. The other Sergeant was quick to nod back, lifting his sandwich to his mouth to take another bite even going so far as to hum a soft affirmative. Soap turned his eyes back to Watcher and Konig as you set your elbows up on the table, hiding your mouth behind a clenched fist, your other hand holding tight to your bicep as it was crossed in front of you.

The older Scotsman’s mouth was set in with an innocent storyteller look, his eyes wide and lips just slightly parted as he continued his story. “And I asked him, I did. I says to him, ‘Price why tah fuck are ya leaving a bloody dog with us, ya cunt.’ And he didnae like that but that man was on a mission. So he left a dog with me and my mate Gaz here.” He jostled Gaz as the man tried to lift his glass of water to his lips. Your brows raised as it spilled over the sides and the young Brit huffed in annoyance before shifting his gaze to Soap who wasn’t even paying attention to the mess he was currently causing.

Still though Soap persisted with his story, “Well Gaz he was back out in a fuckin second so I took the dog, as one does, straight to Ghost. I hate those howlin bastarts and Ghost likes the little things, so.” You glanced down at the dog between your legs whose head tilted the second you found his eyes. Your free hand reached down then, releasing your bicep from its iron grip in favor of petting the expanse of fur along the top of the Dutchie’s head. Cerberus’ tongue lolled as you did and you listened to him whine happily about the attention he was currently being paid by you.

Gaz turned to Soap then with a curious tilt of his head, “Oh so that’s where you went. I was wondering why you were gone this morning.” Soap’s blue eyes stared a hole in Gaz’s head then as the Brit returned to eating while he smirked. A small smile pulled at your lips despite the dire situation you were currently in. Did Gaz know? How could he not know? The man was Soap’s roommate and if Soap failed to lock the door as often as you were beginning to believe he did then it was very possible Gaz had walked in on them before.

Ghost was glaring at the Brit with narrowed eyes at the man’s other side as well. All the while Gaz studiously kept his eyes on the food that he was currently bringing up to his mouth again. Unlike Soap though the young Brit had no ability to keep the smile completely from his face. His lips were struggling to keep from curling upwards now, nearly breaking your own anxiety ridden mind. It nearly made you laugh at the humorous sight, but Gaz’s spell was broken in the next few moments as Soap made his next move.

Suddenly the hand around Gaz’s shoulder let go and smacked across his shoulder blades with a resounding ‘thwap’. Dark eyes bugged for a moment before he fell into a coughing fit, trying to swallow the mouthful of the sandwich he’d just taken. Very nearly choking on it after the hard slap on his back. Soap didn’t miss a beat though before he was continuing his story while Gaz tried to keep himself from choking, “So there Ghost and I were this morning trying to figure out where tah fuck this cunt had wandered off to.” He gestured towards you, glancing at both Watcher and Konig in turn to emphasize his words.

Glancing down at the table in front of you, you pursed your lips before letting out a sigh and asking, “Do ya really gotta do this Soap? Like is this really what you wanna do?” That beaming smile fixed on you the second that you asked the question as he nodded quickly in response. Clearly this was something that he was currently living for and the telling of it in such dramatic fashion was bringing him joy beyond your comprehension. Taking in a deep breath you wondered if it was even worth it to try and stop him.

Might as well just take this hit with your chin up at this point. Even if you did successfully manage to stop him the others had already heard enough to draw their own conclusions. Another sigh and you shrugged your shoulders before waving a hand at him, “Fine. Get on with it kid, I don’t got all day.” Your arms crossed over your chest as you sat back in the chair, watching him with an even and hardened look.

The Scotsman cleared his throat dramatically then before he continued with an even wider smile, “So we took wee Cerby out ta go find this cunt. Nowhere. Hee haw.” He looked pointedly at Watcher as he said that, before he kept going with his dramatized version of this morning’s events. “Nowhere to be seen. It was like the daftie had gone an’ disappeared.” He paused for a moment to smile at you. It felt almost like he was giving you one more chance to stop him. To give him something else to get his mind off of what he’d seen in John’s bunkhouse. Like he knew how much it was burning you up right now to have to listen to this.

You didn’t waver as you watched him with narrowed eyes. Fuck it. Just get it out there. It was harder to hide what you and John were doing at this point. Easier to just deal with the shame and embarrassment on what was almost your own terms rather than let them see how much it irked you. “Ghost and I were gettin’ a wee bit worried at tha’ point so we went to go find the Captain. And you’ll never guess what we found in the old man’s bunkhouse.” Soap glanced around at the three men still left unawares before he finally blurted out, “What’d we find but wee Speck here heid doon arse up in Cap’s bed.” Jaws dropped around the table just as eyes turned slowly from the Scotsman and to you.

Your cheeks burned hot, but your hand covered the lower part of your face. Keeping them from seeing the physical reaction to Soap’s words being uttered. “Blödsinn,” Konig murmured beside you even as Gaz’s face scrunched up in disgust across from you. And, in the corner of your eye, you could just barely see Watcher too stunned to say anything even as a nervous smile lit up his face and he glanced around at the others to see their reactions to the news as well.

The young Brit across from you turned a look of disgusted annoyance on Soap before slapping the back of his hand across Soap’s shoulder and feigning a gag, “And your first thought is to tell us!? To tell me!? I don’t want to know what Cap does in his spare time. Jesus Soap, I definitely don’t want to know who he does-” The statement was cut off by another gag as he reeled backward in his chair and scrambled off, trying to get away. “Oh, mate, I’m gonna be sick,” Gaz took off towards the door all the while Soap crossed his arms over his chest and watched you with his chin lifted and pride written plainly on his face.

Even Ghost was giving a deep quiet laugh behind his mask as his shoulders shook with the effort. You stared straight ahead at the Scotsman, unwavering in the face of your shame and embarrassment. “Now that you’ve put my relationship out there for all of ‘em to see, may I go now? Or is your boyfriend gonna stop me this time too?” More stunned gazes shot around the group, Ghost’s laugh stopping immediately and his eyes narrowing into a glare. Soap gaped at you, clearly stunned speechless now.

Your voice stayed so even in tone it was honestly kind of impressive as you stood from the chair, “Good, I’ll see y’all later.” Sliding out of the chair you made for the door, muttering a quick, “Fuss,” and then tapped a finger to the brim of your black hat with a forced smile. Turning on your heel you made for the door right behind Gaz, just get the fuck out with what little bit of dignity you still had left. Just go, go, go…

And so go you did, all the way back to your bunkhouse as you shut the door behind you and your head tipped back against the door. “Good God. Only me. Only I would end up in a mess like this. Goddamnit.” Cerberus was watching you as his head tilted again and you shook yours in response at him before pointing a finger at his wide eyes, “Don’t you start with me. I’ve already gotten enough shit from everyone else, keep your thoughts and your goddamn trauma to yourself.”

The dog’s tongue lolled as his tail wagged on the ground behind him. Again you shook your head, your jaw tensing before you let out a breath and glanced down at the empty bowls beside your bed. “Hungry, Cerb? Did they feed you this morning?” You grabbed one of the bowls and scooped some food out for the Dutchie before setting it back down. Cerberus watched you until you gave him a small smile and pointed down to it, “Go on, eat up,” and the dog lunged forward, digging into the bowl of food eagerly.

Filling the other bowl up with water you glanced around the room, eyes landing on the gear still sitting on the table you had yet to return. If you hadn’t threatened to kill him you were certain he would have already shown up at your door with that clipboard of his and the exhausted expression he always seemed to wear while he pleaded with you to give it back before his numbers came up wrong. But you had threatened him. Hell you had nearly ripped his whole fucking arm off in the process of doing so. And you would have, in that moment, done it without another thought.

You lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose, tension building slowly inside of you. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He hadn't meant it. He didn't know what he was doing. How could the guy have known? He doesn't even know you…None of them know you…Hell you don't even really belong here do you? You were here because John had picked out your face in a crowd. You were here because your one job, to blend in everywhere and stay completely unnoticed and unidentifiable, had been a complete failure.

There was a contract still held over your head by your bosses back in America. Whether they had attempted to kill you or not was still up for debate but you definitely still had to answer to them at some point. Hell you still had a year left on that fuckin contract and there was no way you could afford to lose it now. A passing moment of curiosity wondered if they were still depositing your paycheck into your bank account.

At that thought though the corner of your mouth lifted in amusement because you knew full well that if they weren't still depositing that money your ex-wife would have already tracked you down by now on her own. There was never a week that went by that she wasn’t taking your money without regard for how you would survive the week without it. Hell with how much money she got every month out of you there was no way she'd miss a single one of those deposits. You were her cash cow now and she would never miss a chance to collect.

God forbid you miss a single alimony payment to her or a child support payment for your son. And even your daughter had direct access to it too in order to pay for college, or whatever the fuck else she wanted. You were lucky if you ever saw a single fuckin dime of your paychecks. Lucky as all get out if you could afford to feed yourself through the week when you weren't on a base like this.

Especially since you still had to feed Cerberus and there wasn't a way in hell you were gonna let him go hungry while you were eating. The meals you'd been getting here on base were the best damn things you'd had in months, that much was for sure. The family of vultures you had made for yourself would pick and eat at every single morsel they could pull out of you. Not having any money for them wasn’t even an option.

It was…depressing. At one point you'd have said without a doubt that they loved you, or at least thought about you sometimes with a hint of care. But now? Now you doubted that you'd even crossed their minds. Not even your daughter probably thought about you anymore. You were undoubtedly the last person that they ever wished to think about again. The father they would cry to their therapists about and the ex-husband your wife would one day tell her new husband about amidst tears whenever something went wrong. You were Lucifer himself to them. A stain in their past that none of them wished to remember and to be quite honest you didn't entirely blame them.

You wished on occasion you didn't remember them either. It would have been easier not to rather than to feel this deep ache whenever you thought about them. Especially when you thought about your precious daughter and son. God you'd have done anything for them, hell you still would if they asked. They were your children, your babygirl and your pride and joy. You loved them even now. Even after they'd left you completely alone in that hospital while you were recovering from that stupid fucking explosion.

Stop thinking about it, it wasn’t going to fix anything. It was just going to put you in a bad mood, better to just get on with your day and try your best not to think about them. With a sigh you moved towards the table and picked up the vest before running your thumb over one of the metal d-rings. You really should get all this stuff back to Wade. It was only right after what you'd done to him, besides you still needed to apologize for exactly that.

Grabbing it all up in your hands you glanced towards the bowls where Ceberus was and said, "Hier!" The dog lifted his head and trotted over to you before you issued another command, "Fuss." As soon as he was attached to your hip you opened the door and the both of you headed out for the armory, supply room, and the cages where you were almost certain Wade spent just about every waking moment unless he was told otherwise. With the bags under those eyes? The guy definitely spent most of every day there.

As you stood outside the building though you saw the gross miscalculation you had made. It was locked. Everything on this fuckin base was locked. Setting the equipment down for a moment you glanced between the keypad and the door. God this was so inconvenient. You kept doing this too, it wasn't like it was the first time. Though you had learned your lesson not to attempt to kick this door down at least. With your luck you'd plant another foot right in your poor Angel's chest again. The man seemingly had an endless well of patience with you but if you did it again you were sure he'd have a few choice words for you. Once is a coincidence, twice though and he might start thinking you were actually aiming for him.

Letting out a sigh you glanced around as if by some miracle one of the men with a code would see you standing here helplessly. Needless to say though, they didn't. "Son of a bitch…" You rumbled low and you saw Cerberus' head tilt in question. It was a phrase you said often when you were frustrated or annoyed and he'd probably picked up on that over the nearly three years you'd had him. "Not you buddy, you're a good one," the dark tail wagged in response and you smiled a bit at him.

At least until you heard a deep rumble behind you, "Who's a good one?" For a moment your eyes widened and you had to force yourself not to jump in surprise. Holy shit that had really caught you off guard. You hadn't even heard the man coming up behind you, he was truly too quiet for being as big as he was. Turning a quick glance over your shoulder you spotted the skull mask behind you and those narrowed hazel eyes with their hard glare.

You turned slowly to look up at him before clearing your throat and gesturing to the dog beside you, "Cerberus. He’s, uh, he's a good one," Ghost nodded quietly in his agreement as he watched you. Hazel eyes flicked down to the equipment now on the ground and back to you before narrowing them with a silent question. Following his gaze you answered his unspoken question, "Oh yeah I've gotta get this crap back to Wade. Don't wanna throw the guy's numbers off, you know?" You gave him a half smile as you watched him.

The gaze seemed to inspect you for a moment, you might have overplayed your hand in regards to his and Soap’s relationship. You could have sworn his hands were about to come up in an attempt to strangle you. Then without a single word he stepped by you towards the keypad and answered you with a hint of amusement in his words, "Worried about his numbers? Heard you tried to kill him yesterday, weren't too worried about his numbers then, eh?" The light on the keypad turned green and he turned the handle on the door, opening it as he stood with his back against the door watching you.

Watching him for a moment you picked up the gear and set a narrowed gaze on him, "Scuttlebutt is you and Soap are breaking those oh so important fraternization rules, don't hear me telling every Tom, Dick, and Harry bout that though do ya?" You shot back at him, maybe you were overplaying your hand but you weren’t exactly accustomed to having people question your actions so much.

Stepping by him into the building as his hazel eyes narrowed and he followed you with his harsh gaze. A strong grip around your shoulder stopped you though, a momentary thought that you were about to meet your doom crossed your mind, but you stopped to turn around towards him anyway. "Don't worry about it, roomie. Not like everyone else in that room didn’t already know. I’m not gonna tell your Captain or anything, not my shit to tell." The big man continued to watch you for a moment, considering your words and the knowledge you'd somehow acquired.

When he finally gave you a hesitant nod and turned towards the cages you watched him go for a moment. Ghost didn't even bother to turn back around though as he unlocked his cage, so you backed up to the supply and armory door and knocked the toe of your boot against it hard enough to get the attention of whoever was inside. The other side stayed quiet as you and Cerberus shifted awkwardly in front of the door. You could feel eyes on your back but you suppressed the urge to turn around. The urge that always persisted whenever Ghost was around and just barely out of sight.

Finally though the door in front of you opened and Wade's tired, bloodshot eyes stared back at you. The immediate reaction was the widening of the shorter man's eyes before the door was hurtling towards your face. Your brows rose in surprise even as your foot slid forward to block the door from slamming in your face. It jammed against the toe of your boot as you started to shoulder your way inside with Cerberus right behind you, "Wade! Hey man!" The door hit you in the shoulder and you huffed in pain as the heavy object slammed into your stitched up limb. It’d been feeling better but after that hit you weren’t sure it would stay that way for long.

The smaller man on the other side continued to try and close the door as your own eyes widened and you tried to reason with him, "Wade! Would you stop!?" The blonde only pushed harder against the door on the other side, trying to slam the door shut even with your body currently jammed in the middle of it. "I'm not here to kill ya man!" It still did no good but now even Cerberus was in on the fun as he reared back to put his paws on the door. His thunderous barks drowning out the words of the other man. It seemed the big Dutchie thought this was some kind of new training scenario, but with his added weight you could feel the door shifting in your favor. So you tried again, "I'm tryna return your damn gear, you jackass!" The weight on the other side stopped struggling.

In the next second the counterweight on the other side disappeared and you fell backwards still clutching all of your gear to your chest. A loud yelp of surprise left you as you hit the ground and the furry dog circled you a few times. Looking up with shock in your gaze you stared into the pale blue eyes of the skinny supply officer as he asked, "You're bringing the gear back?" He almost sounded just as surprised as you looked now as he reached down to grab the vest, helmet, and small pouch you had in your arms. The man didn't even attempt to give you a hand up, he just turned and set himself to organizing the contents you'd brought back for him.

With a deep sigh you sat up, rubbing your back to soothe the spark of pain there as you heard the door shut. Watching Wade turn away your face scrunched up in confusion and you shook your head, "Well yeah I brought it back. Figured it was better late than never, right?" Wade grunted as he finally turned to look back at where you were pushing yourself back to your feet. The two of you watched one another quietly for a few awkward and tense moments.

Wade was watching you with narrowed eyes, his arms crossed protectively over his chest, "Yes I did ask you for that. I didn't actually think you would do it though. All of you operators are the same and you never listen. Especially surprised that you are after what happened yesterday." You continued to watch him for a few tense moments. Your eyes darted down to where the bruises had already bloomed on his wrist in the shape of your hand.

Nodding you let out a sigh, "Yeah, about that. Listen I'm sorry man, about trying to rip your arm off and the whole threatening thing. I didn't mean to hurt ya I just." You paused, a hand lifting to the back of your neck as you scratched at it awkwardly, "I just needed that shirt…a lot. It wasn’t like you knew that though, so my bad man.” Now there was a look of shock that could rival a cat who just saw a cucumber for the first time.

The pale blue eyes went so wide it was almost like they were going to pop out of the man’s skull. It was obvious the man didn’t hear many apologies working with the 1-4-1, or any probably based on the way he was staring at you like you’d just grown three heads. “It- Did you just-” He seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment before he cleared his throat, his hands moving to clasp behind his back before he gave a sharp nod, regaining his composure. “It’s quite alright. I actually have some good news on that front.” He looked you over one more time, as if he was searching for some kind of sincerity in your gaze.

Apparently he seemed to find it a moment later as he turned towards what looked like his desk and squatted out of sight for just a moment. When he stood back up he held up a balled up shirt, torn in a few places and covered in old, dried blood. Covered in your blood. Your mouth parted slightly in shock before you crossed the open space in less than a heartbeat and pulled it from his grasp. The objects hidden beneath the fabric ran under your fingertips and relief washed over you immediately. A strain on your heart being lifted the moment you felt everything secured inside.

Your talisman had been returned to you. Your history, your reason for life, your very soul was back and safe with you. It was like a missing piece had been slotted back into your heart. The relief felt like a boulder had been rolled off of your chest. Even your breaths came easier. How had he found it? Why did he look for it after what you’d done to him? Thank the good Lord above he’d looked for it though because never seeing this stuff again might have actually broken you in the long run.

In an instant your eyes were back on Wade’s, “Shit man you actually found it?” There was a light in your eyes now that hadn’t been there the previous day as you gave him a look of disbelief. Wade merely nodded with a small smile on his mouth, “Thank God, I thought it was gone forever. Thanks Wade,” you didn’t even know the words to properly get across just how much you appreciated him finding this ratty old shirt. “Really man, thank you,” there was a bright look in his eye now as the man seemed to perk up.

A quick nod came from him as you stepped forward, offering your hand to shake in thanks. The ultimate gesture of appreciation you’d been taught. Wade glanced at it for a moment before his fingers wrapped around your hand and you gave it a firm shake as he replied, “You’re welcome, Speck. I’ve actually got the rest of what you asked for if you’d like to sign it out.” Immediately the light in your eyes began to die as you looked at him with a deep breath in and the blonde quickly changed his statement, “Or I can just ask Captain Price or Agent Laswell for their signature whenever I see them next.”

You smirked in response and nodded, “That would probably be wise, Wade.” He sighed as he rubbed his fingers against one side of his temple and cleared his throat. Until he turned and unlocked the chain link door behind him before disappearing into the bowels of his domain. A few moments later he returned with a phone, a lighter, and a few packs of cigarettes in one hand and a pair of work boots in another.

He held them out to you and watched as you took them slowly with the balled up shirt now secured under your arm. “The phone is secure so you don’t have to worry about anything with that. You didn’t say what brand you liked with the smokes so I just requisitioned whatever would get here the fastest. And the boots, well I checked the size of your other pair so I hope they fit.” You inspected each item as he detailed it and watched as he tilted his head and asked, “Anything else you needed?”

Looking down at the items you shook your head with an appreciative smile, “Naw man, this is perfect. Thank you.” He gave you that look of slight surprise again though he was getting better at hiding it now. Thank yous were apparently not all that common for him either. You gave him a quick nod and started to back up, “I appreciate it.” Shifting the items in your hands you held up the balled up shirt to show him, “All of it.” He gave you a quick nod in answer as you made your way out of the armory, glancing once towards Ghost’s cage where he was cleaning a few knives and his rifles.

The Lieutenant didn’t even look up though as you kept going out the door with Cerberus at your side. You shoved the cigarettes into your pocket along with the phone, you could mess with the new technology and the smokes later. Right now you had something much more important to do. Something you'd been putting off for far too long now. Something you should have done years ago. It was time to face reality instead of hiding from it.

Stepping inside your bunkhouse you tossed the shoes into the corner where your duffel bag was at the end of the bed. Then you sat the balled up shirt on the table, staring at the dried blood spatters that decorated the fabric in its heinous violence. Reaching forward you hesitated, the cigarettes and the phone in your pocket digging into your thigh to remind you that this was real, what you were about to do you could never undo. If you weren’t actually ready when you opened this thing up then you could never take it back.

With a huff you pulled both items out and tossed them onto the table just beside the shirt. Again you tried to reach forward and again your hand stalled just above touching the fabric one more. Just seeing the object made your stomach turn as you swallowed down the bile trying to rise in your throat. Come on Speck, you could do this. You were a grown ass man. There were countless confirmed kills under your belt, countless war crimes you’d committed in supposed defense of peace. Why was this the thing that could make you stop and hesitate?

Quietly you cursed under your breath as you paced in front of the table. You thought you were ready to face these demons. You'd been sure you were ready to put all of this to bed now. And yet here you stood unable to untie the shirt and gaze upon the items you'd stuffed inside for safe keeping nearly three years ago. It was laughable how tumultuous your emotions were when it came to those you had lost and the past you hadn’t the stomach to face. Snatching up a pack of cigarettes you opened the container and slid one between your lips. In the next moment the lighter was in your hand as you flicked it, the flame dancing to life before you stopped your motion to light it, glancing to the other side of the room with a sigh.

Maybe it was best not to smoke in a room when you barely even knew your roommate. Sliding the phone into your pocket along with the rest of the now opened pack of cigarettes and grabbing the shirt you headed out the door. You certainly weren't going to leave the shirt laying around where just anyone could take it now. Hell you doubted you'd be able to let it leave your sight now after the suffering you'd felt the day before. It’d nearly killed you and an innocent man when you’d lost it, the last thing you wanted to do was face that reality again.

Standing on the landing you leaned over the railing as you finally lit the cigarette between your lips and took a deep drag as your eyes shut at the feeling of the smoke sitting heavy in your lungs. It was soothing and sure it was a terrible habit but at least you weren't an alcoholic right? This had always been your safest coping mechanism, especially when you'd been with your ex wife.

Going home smelling like cigarettes was the easiest way to keep her away from you. She could handle the taste of whiskey on your breath. Hell she could even handle the taste of dip and chewing tobacco, but smoke? That woman detested the smell of smoke in all forms. Sure it would get you yelled at but at least she kept her hands off you whenever you smoked those things.

After all that time smoking them though you just couldn't seem to shake the habit whenever you were feeling jittery or anxious or just plain ole upset. It was almost like once you smoked them you knew you would be alright, at least until the smell started to fade anyway. A conditioned response like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Heh more like one of Rachel’s ex-husband’s. You took in another deep drag, with a smirk even as you sighed and exhaled the smoke in a great plume. Letting the cigarette rest between your lips you held up the balled up shirt in front of you, your forearms resting on the railing as you stared at it.

Two years, nearly three, you'd avoided this moment. Two years you'd kept it all bottled up inside and somehow it had been John Price who had gotten the story out of you. It was your Angel who had figured out the source of your nightmares. The men you saw die every night that kept the wound so fresh in your mind even as you ignored them with every waking moment. He'd gotten you to tell him everything, the only person who'd ever successfully gotten you to open up about anything. Where was he now though while you were standing outside the bunkhouse holding what appeared to be trash to anyone else.

Holding the shirt in one hand you continued to inspect it closely, your lips tilting the cigarette between them up and down as you lost yourself in thought. Another deep breath in and then out through your nose and you raised your freehand up to grab it and tap the ash off the end before returning it to its place where you could let the smoke dull your senses once more. How could you bring yourself to open this thing after so long now? It was as much a bad habit as your smoking was.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs beside you caught your attention and you glanced to your left just in time to see John climbing up the stairs. The man’s head tilted as he saw the object in your hand and then he turned his gaze to your face before moving it down to your lips. “Those things’ll kill ya, love.” His blue eyes slid over the expanse of your lips and then met your eyes once more with an amused smirk hiding beneath that brunette beard. Narrowing your eyes you gave him a shake of your head and muttered back, “Like you don’t smoke? I smell it on you all the time John. Cerberus isn’t the only one who has a nose.” You spoke around the cigarette as you reached a finger up to tap your nose with a half smile. The brunette watched you for a few more moments as the dog laid by the door content and quiet.

He leaned over the railing beside you as he glanced at the shirt you were holding before he gestured to it with a slight nod, “Right…So what’s all this then, love?” A brunette brow rose curiously at you. Your own eyes slid back down to the shirt as you squeezed at the objects beneath the thick fabric. John sounded so British when he said things like that and it made you smile even despite the memories accompanied with the shirt in your hand and their trying to stamp down what little amusement you could currently find in your situation..

You turned towards him, leaning on one elbow on the railing as he mirrored the stance. The two of you faced one another as you held up the shirt between yall and you turned your eyes down to it with a tight-lipped smile, “Wade found it. I thought after our…talk last night I’d finally be able to open it again.” A dark huff shook your shoulders as you looked back up at him, “Thought wrong, I guess.” The Captain pointed with the hand he was currently leaning against the railing with and raised a questioning brow to you as you answered with a silent nod.

An impressed look came over his face and his brows rose a bit as he nodded, “So that’s the shirt that you survived in?” Huh, that was an interesting way to put it. You’d never thought about it like that before. It’d always been the shirt you’d lost everything when you were wearing. The shirt you were supposed to die while you were wearing, but saying it like that almost gave it a different connotation.

When your eyes found those blue hues still affixed to you, you managed a slow nod as you answered, “I’ve never thought about it like that, but yeah I guess you’re right. Sure is the shirt though. In all its bloodstained glory.” Finding the ground with your eyes you stood up from leaning on the rail and pulled the cigarette out of your mouth tossing it over the railing with a sigh.

John was watching you, you could always feel his eyes when he was staring. Hell you were starting to believe you could feel exactly where he was looking every time as well. Right now that gaze was watching every minute expression you were making. Clearing his throat he stepped a bit closer, “Can I help, sweetheart?” The pet name made your face run hot as you turned a small smirk up at him.

Shrugging your shoulders you felt his fingers graze lightly against the small of your back and his head tilted slightly. He was close enough now anyone who walked by would know something definitely not platonic was going on here. Did it matter though? The only ones who mattered knew now. Not to mention how the light touch made you feel as your chin tilted up and you glanced up at the sky. It felt almost as if he was feeding you confidence through the mere touch of his hand through the fabric.

The feeling was freeing. Standing up a bit straighter your jaw tensed for a moment before you glanced back down to the the balled up shirt and muttered, “You know what?” Your eyes turned up to the brunette and his piercing, albeit confused, gaze, “Fuck it.” You shoved the shirt towards him and he looked down at it with a raised brow as John smirked at the bloody and slightly torn up shirt.

“You want me to do it, eh?” Nodding a quick affirmative he stared at it for a few more heartbeats and for an unsure moment it seemed like he was going to refuse. He had the right to do so though. The damn shirt even had your blood covering it, no doubt he wanted to avoid touching that, which was fair. Not to mention these weren’t exactly his demons to face. But then he gave a quick nod and took the balled up shirt from your hands, testing the weight in his hand, “Bit heavy isn’t it?”

A quick nod of your head and he gave a low grunt as he looked down at it with that piercing blue gaze. Finally he gave a slow nod and stood up from where he was leaning on the railing, his now free hand coming up to pat your shoulder before he looked across the path to his bunkhouse, “Mind if I open it in there?” It felt almost like a protective suggestion. Almost like he knew that at any moment while those memories were crashing over you like a tidal wave you could break down. John knew, despite barely even knowing all that much about you, that you weren’t the type to put something like that on display.

Nodding at him his mouth lifted just barely in a small smile as he gave a firm nod and turned to head back down the stairs. The both of you headed across the path and up the stairs of his bunkhouse with Cerberus glued to your hip, your ever present protector. John unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding the door open as you made for the table and the two chairs in the room. Cerberus slipped under the table quietly, laying down with a huff as he went back to his light and quiet napping.

You and John sat down together as you leaned an elbow on the table and then your chin rested in your palm as you watched him handling the shirt carefully. Still cautious and flicking his gaze up to you every now and then as he made sure you were still okay with this. You merely watched with a tense jaw as he began to pull at sleeves where it was tied up.

It took him a few tries to get the knot to start loosening before he finally was able to start pulling it apart. “Bloody hell. You really paid attention in those knot tying classes the Navy gave you, eh?” You smirked a bit at him as he struggled with the next tight knot, his face looking almost exasperated by the time it started to loosen as well. “When you said you couldn’t open it I really thought it was more of a mental thing, but now that I’ve been trying for the past five minutes I’m starting to think you meant you physically couldn’t do it.” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you tried to suppress a smile, catching his eye as he too seemed to be amused.

The humor helped to put you at ease in a situation that would have been extremely straining on your carefully constructed mental dam if it hadn’t been there. Finally though he got the last of the knots untied and started to carefully pull it open. Swallowing hard, you took in a deep breath with your nostrils flared, doing your best to maintain neutrality in the face of everything that had haunted you for so long now. Your entire body felt tense as you watched the bloodstained shirt open to him, revealing your past in the small things you’d kept with you for so long now.

He set the shirt on the table to keep from dropping anything inside and leaned forward to inspect the items. Your shoulders tensed as he pulled at a piece of metal that was hidden in the folds of fabric and pulled it closer to look at it. A metal tag shined in the light, coated in burn marks and warped almost beyond recognition as he tried to read the damaged tag and the name on it. Giving up he finally turned a questioning look at you, asking a silent question.

Your jaw tensed in response as you cleared your throat, feeling like a frog was stuck in it before you answered, “Xena’s. She had it on her collar when she died.” Raising a hand to rub your fingers over your mouth you leaned closer to him, reaching a hand out for the metal tag. He dropped it into your open palm as you sat with your elbows on your knees. You turned the tag over between your fingers slowly and looked up at him.

His gaze was still on you with a sympathetic look in his eyes as he watched you carefully. “Still good, love?” You nodded quickly before you sat up and placed the tag back on the thick, bloody fabric. He watched quietly for a moment before moving on to another item. The Brit pulled out an old bible and turned it over in his hands. He inspected it for a moment before he flipped the pages quickly like you would a magazine, notes written in the margins of just about every single page to reveal what the reader and owner had been thinking when they’d been reading it. “You’re a church boy then?” There was a hint of a teasing smile on his mouth as he asked and you could see the humor in his gaze then.

Looking at it you smiled just a bit before answering, “No. Not for a long, long time.” There was a quick pause and you clarified, “I used to be, before the Navy and the whole gay thing.” He chuckled a bit but he still looked curious as to why you would hold on to it even if you didn’t believe it. “My grandfather is a pastor. He's always known I was gay I think, ain't never judged me for it though. He's a good man. When I enlisted he gave me the bible he used to preach out of, said he loved me, that he was proud of me, that he was scared for me…” Swallowing hard you felt the emotion welling up with the memory of that day before you’d been shipped off to boot camp and ended your childhood much too early, “Said he hoped it’d keep me safe, that it did for him when he was in the marines.” You sniffed a couple times as you wiped at your nose with the back of your hand.

John finally gave you an understanding nod and you tried to keep your eyes dry, though you were failing miserably. Taking a deep breath your hands ran over your thighs as your eyes flicked up to him almost nervously. He laid the bible next to the warped metal tag as he nodded slowly and asked, “Sentimental then?” A quick nod from you of affirmation and your eyes shot to the floor where Cerberus was laying underneath the table just in front of your feet.

It took a few moments for you to get the lump out of your throat before you sat forward in the chair again and looked at the items scattered over the shirt. Reaching out your fingers closed around a yellowed piece of paper, the edges frayed from someone obviously having looked at it many times before it was tied up inside that shirt. The image on it was nearly gone like someone had been rubbing their hand over the crayon marks. And as your fingers ran over the piece of paper it was easy for the brunette sitting next to you to figure out just who had been paying so much attention to it.

His head tilted slightly before he leaned forward and asked, “What’s that then, love?” Your eyes flicked up to his face. His brows were tilted upward and there was a curious look in his eyes with the softest expression you’d ever seen on that beautiful face. Slowly you handed him the yellowing piece of paper, the image of a terribly drawn dog scrawled on it. John smirked and glanced up at you, a hand running over his mustache and then down into the shorter hairs of his goatee, “I don’t get it. A shite drawing of a dog?” There was a hint of humor in his tone and those ocean blue eyes that only seemed to grow the longer he looked at it.

Sniffing quickly and letting a small smile shine through, your arms crossed over your chest, “It’s not all that bad.” John’s face contorted and he snorted as he looked back down to the drawing and back up at you. “Ok yeah it’s terrible, I’ll give that one to ya. But,” you held up a finger to him, preparing yourself mentally to dig up your past. “But, my daughter drew it for me when she was four. Right before I went on deployment. It was my dog at the time, a Doberman named Cooper.” Looking at the drawing again you gave him a tight smile, “She always loved that dog.”

John nodded as he folded the drawing back up, following the creases that were nearly twenty years old now. As careful with the piece of paper as he would have been with his sniper rifle. He picked up a photo next, you and your old team, fresh off a black op with blood and dirt still in the wrinkles of yalls face and the creases of your clothes. Your vision went blurry as you looked at it, tears welling in your eyes as you fought to control the spike of pain that went through your heart. Their faces struck hard at your memories, resurfacing the good and the bad.

Hell five minutes before that very picture was taken you’d chewed out Suarez so bad the two of yall had nearly come to blows only one step off the damn helicopter. The Brit inspected the picture closely, before you took it from him feeling the tears as they trailed down your cheeks. Wiping a fleck of the dried blood off the picture that had come off the shirt at some point. You shook your head with a pained look in your eye and struggled to mutter, “Damn, I miss them. The good and the bad, ya know what I mean?” Quickly you glanced up at John who was watching with a knowing look. Of course he knew, no doubt he’d lost men before, and you’d lost men before them as well, but it was different when you lost everything…

He gave you a thin smile, sympathetic to the tragedy you’d suffered. “I do know, I’ve lost men before and it’s never easy. It’s especially not easy when they’re all gone in a matter of minutes.” Your eyes turned down again to look at the picture, as you sniffed hard again. An attempt to stop the tears would have been in vain even if you’d tried. What hadn’t come out yesterday seemed bound and determined to come out now. And to be honest you weren’t making all that much of an attempt to stop it now, John had already seen you at your worst might as well just let it out at this point. It was better for him to see it than some poor other soul.

And so they fell. You stayed completely silent though. These weren’t the devastated and pent up sobs of the man who had still believed that if he just didn’t talk about it or think about it then it never really happened. No, these were the quiet tears of knowing you couldn’t change what had happened despite wishing you could have. It wasn’t quite acceptance but it was somewhere on the road to it. That was a step at least. Right?

Not even John existed at that moment. It was just you stuck in your head. In the overwhelming memories of every good and bad thing you’d ever done. You wiped at your face with the back of your hand and took in a shaky breath, laughing as the good, for once, began to outweigh the bad. Handing the photo to him you pointed at the short stocky man beside you with his Bravo Two badge on his shoulder. His arm was thrown around your shoulders as well as your Bravo Three, Suarez’s shoulders.

McCann's smiling face had brought out yours and Suarez's smiles as well, despite the two of you being at odds a few moments before. "He was my best friend. Ryan McCann. Man was about to make E9 and even get his own team. Dario Suarez," your finger moved to point at the other man McCann was holding onto. "Dario had just had a kid, a little boy. The baby was a month old when we left for this mission and he was getting too cautious. Nearly got our Four killed, Levi Knox," you pointed to the young man standing beside where you and Xena were.

John was holding the photo in his hand as he seemed to take it all in. His head tilted as he asked, "How long before it happened was this taken?" You tensed up as he asked, another wave of tears trying to well up in your eyes. When John looked up your tears were not lost upon him. His fingers found the growth of beard along your jaw. The rough fingertips catching at the short hairs as he tried to soothe the heartache you so obviously still felt.

Leaning into his gentle touch you cleared your throat as his thumb stroked your cheek, taking the tears with it. Finally you managed to answer him, "This was taken two months before it happened. Three weeks and Ryan would have had his own team…" The brunette nodded slowly as he held the picture between the two of you. You took it back from him with those silent tears still dripping. John's hands fell from your face though, one finding the top of your hand where it was resting on your thigh. The other found your thigh as he gave both a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Letting you know he was still there even without having to say it aloud.

Those hands were warm and comforting. Especially when his fingers tightened and dug into the muscle of your thighs for just a moment. Despite the tears still in your eyes you smiled at him, and he returned that pained look that he saw on your face. He could feel your pain just as much as he could see it. The fact that you could hurt him and you didn't even have to say or do anything inherently malicious was a bit disconcerting for you. It was a power you'd never known before. Others had held that power over you, hell all your daughter had to do, even now, was just look like she was upset and your heart was hurting for her. This was the first time you'd ever held this power over someone else though.

He cared…Holy shit he cared. Not only did he care though, you cared. Oh God you cared. Not good, so very not good. Why did he care though? Did it matter why? Of course it never mattered why things happened. It only mattered that it happened and that it was true. Your brows furrowed and your jaw tensed as you cast your gaze down to the hands that now clung to you. Examining the dark hairs that decorated his long, toned forearms and up towards his biceps which disappeared underneath the short sleeved shirt.

Swallowing hard you pulled your hands away, feeling a bit of panic in your mind at the knowledge you could hurt him. That was the last thing you wanted to do. That was something you couldn't even handle the thought of. His head tilted as he sat back in the chair, watching you for a few moments. He let out a deep breath, unsure what he had done but knowing he had done something to make you cautious. Finally he turned to look back at the shirt and the rest of the items he still had yet to inspect inside.

Moving the other photos around on the fabric you watched as he caught sight of the other moments of your life, all of them pulled out of the depths of time. Your daughter, your son, your parents, and even your ex-wife had been hidden in this time capsule. You'd forgotten how much was hidden within this bloody fabric. It was a burden you'd chosen not to carry for the past few years, a burden you happily hid away to save yourself the agony of reality. The moments trapped within those pictures almost made you forget the dead feeling in your very soul that had come along with those people. It framed your family as happy, loving, and from the outside looking in it had been.

There had been so much no one else outside your household had ever seen. The only ones who had seen it hadn’t cared enough to say anything. Mainly your parents. And it hadn’t been any of your teammates' place to say anything. They’d been helpless as they’d watched you suffer at the hand and tongue of a woman who��d have sooner seen you dead to collect the life insurance policy. You swallowed hard as your eyes zeroed in on the woman, your palms starting to sweat just seeing her face right now.

You didn't even notice when his hand stopped shuffling through the items you were so wrapped up in your past. At least not until he uncovered the photo a bit more and slid it over the tan and green fabric closer to him. You leaned closer but a large hand blocked your view of whatever photograph he was looking at. John seemed like he was frozen though, his ring and middle finger resting on the edge of the photo while his index tapped on it slowly. When you looked up at his eyes though you could see interest, as he picked it up and held it to where the photo was side-by-side with the visual of you sitting in the chair.

John's mouth twitched, his mustache flaring up with the movement as his jaw tensed. When the Brit's head tilted, inspecting you closely, his eyes seemed to light up a bit and he smirked something fierce. His voice deepened a bit and that gravelly tone made your own eyes light up with interest, completely forgetting the anxiety you’d been suffering a moment before. "I like this one, sweetheart. Mind if I get myself a copy of it?" The tears you had been shedding before still spilled down your cheeks but you couldn't help the laugh that came along with his question.

Sniffling you wiped a hand over your nose and then your cheeks before you let out another chuckle and leaned forward to take the picture, "A copy? A copy of what?" You flipped the photo around and your cheeks started to warm at the sight of it. The photo had originally been taken on a dare when you were eighteen. By the same woman you'd gotten pregnant and eventually married. Some of your rodeo buddies had told you to cut up a pair of jeans and see how long it took for someone to say something. So you'd done it at the last rodeo of the season, you couldn’t participate anyway since you’d just enlisted in the Navy. You brought your gear, your horse, your hat and boots, and cut your jeans into a pair of shorts so tight you'd basically been walking around naked at that rodeo.

It hadn't taken long for you to get thrown out of that particular rodeo that day. You'd just signed your enlistment papers with the Navy though a few days before, dropped out of highschool, you had a baby on the way, who cared about what those rodeo guys thought at that point. The fuck it method had already been in place by the time you enlisted, the Navy only watered the seeds of your self-destructive mentality for their own gains. Hell if it hadn’t been funny as all get out though.

Never dare a southerner to do something you aren't completely sure you want them to do. There's not a single one worth their salt who wouldn't do it just to prove a point. Smirking, you shook your head and turned your gaze back to John, "You want a copy of this? I'm barely even wearing anything." The light grew in those ocean blue hues immediately at your reasoning.

John nodded as he smiled, "I'm well aware. What in the hell possessed you on this particular day to get you into a pair of cutoff jean shorts anyway, sweetheart?" Humor was in his eyes now and your own held just as much amusement as your cheeks heated and you scratched at the back of your head in embarrassment.

A tight-lipped smile took over your face as you tried to suppress it. “I, uh…” You hesitated for a moment as John’s head tilted with that humorous look on his face that made your heart skip a beat at first sight. “My buddies dared me, it’s a southern pride thing. You can’t refuse a dare, especially if you’re a stupid eighteen year old with nothing else to lose, and I was one of the stupidest. Especially if you asked my parents.” You huffed out a laugh as his eyes narrowed curiously at that comment.

The Brit’s hands shot forward to grab the photo even as your hand pulled away. But his fingers wrapped around your wrist before you could escape and plucked the photo out of your hand, just a heartbeat faster than you. Both of you lifted your brows curiously at one another as those ocean hues flicked back to the photograph in his hands as he took in the sight once more. When his eyes flicked back to you he asked curiously, “Why do you have the hat on?”

John’s eyes flicked back up to you with bright eyes as you shrugged and answered, “Whaddya mean why do I have the hat on? It’s a cowboy hat, John, and I’m from the South. Why do you wear that damn boonie hat everywhere?” His cheeks started to go a bit pink before he steeled himself while he watched you. After a few moments of silence you finally sighed and gave him a real answer, “I was on the rodeo circuit before I enlisted. Remember that dream I told you about in that bar? Yeah, well that was mine.” John nodded slowly as he listened but when you stopped he motioned for you to continue.

Your lips pursed as you watched him before you shot forward to grab the photo from the taller man. The Captain moved faster though, completely prepared for your sudden burst of speed as he spun out of the chair and waltzed out of your path. You stopped short just as your knee touched where he had been sitting moments before and spun to look at him as he smirked at you with that tilted head. Photograph still in his hand he waved it at you and asked, “You did rodeos? Like horses and bulls and lassos eh?” Slowly you gave an affirmative nod as your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

He didn’t seem to be satisfied with just a nod though. God was he expecting a verbal answer even when you two weren’t in the middle of fucking like rabbits? Taking in a breath you were about to comply until he then asked, “You still got the hat? And the shorts…” He paused for a second as his gaze flickered back to the photograph and he added quickly, “The saddle too and the boots. Shite, I want to see you like that now. You were cute then but now? Shite, sweetheart, now I think I’d have a heart attack seeing you looking like this.” You felt your face heat up at his words, your body responding without your permission. At least before you chuckled lightly and shook your head at him, almost not believing how much he was enjoying staring at that particular photograph.

“I don’t have any of that stuff now. It’s sitting at my parent’s house locked away like it has been since I enlisted and left rodeoing twenty-two years ago. Navy don’t like the idea of their property getting damaged by a bronc buckin em off.” John looked almost disappointed when you said no. Like you'd just crushed his hopes and dreams for the future. It made your heart hurt to see that disappointment in his eyes. Tilting your head you stood a little taller though and asked, “Why? What would you do if I still had all of that gear?” The blue eyes narrowed at you from where he stood and John took a step closer.

Those pure blue eyes were alight with interest now as he started to answer, “There’s a lot I want to do to you, love. Where do I even start-” Before he could continue though you stepped forward to close the distance between the two of you. At first he pulled the photo backwards. As if he thought you were about to lunge for it again despite having failed the first time.

Shaking your head a bit more you gave him a small laugh of incredulity and asked, "You like the gear?" You could see his breaths stop for just a moment as you got just a bit closer to him. The bright, curious gaze turned dark and heated with lust and focus. He was a sight to behold, you had to admit. Every muscle was seemingly tense with anticipation right now. John was an apex predator, and his main course…you.

That heated look never failed to turn you into a puddle of need at his feet. When he finally hummed an affirmative to your question you leaned back against the table with an inviting smile in response. His hand reached out for you but you caught his wrist in a quick grip and your other hand shot out to snatch the photo away from him before you danced out of his reach. A deep sound came from his chest, another low humming noise that rumbled like thunder from him. Holy fuck that was hot…

Apparently you'd said that out loud because in the next moment he was chuckling a bit and shot back a quick, "So is that picture. Now bring it back over here, or I’m going to come and get it myself." When you hesitated John stepped closer again and you hurriedly hid it, as if he wasn't watching every move you made, in your back pocket. Blue eyes narrowed in feigned annoyance with your actions, his brows lowering to cast a shadow over those now dark depths.

An innocent look overtook your face as you blinked up at him, tilting your head, the inside corners of your brows lifting, while your lips parted slightly in an ‘o’ shape. He took notice of that feigned innocence, and ignorance, as you shook your head in confusion, "What photo, Angel?" Was that a flash of amusement? He wasn't flustered this time when you used the pet name. Instead he seemed amused, probably enjoying your amazing acting at playing the innocent young man. Though you both knew that you were anything but innocent now.

Another step forward and John was near arm's length now, even as you took a step back and your knees hit the bed. The Brit still looked almost amused though it was becoming shrouded by his gaze which was heated with something much more primal now. A prickle of nerves ran up your spine at that look, and you had to force down the nervous smile. His deep, gravelly voice spoke up finally, "You're playing innocent with me? Might want to rethink that one, I know what you like for me to call you when I'm fucking you rough, sweetheart." Now that had your face flushing, warmth tingling every nerve ending now.

Your brows were nearly in your hairline at that statement though. There was no keeping your cool when it came to John. He could turn you into a mess with a few simple words. Especially when he had a look like the one he had right now. The pampering was over it would seem. He knew what he wanted and he was going to take it, and it wasn’t hard to see that you wanted him to do it. God, when did you not want him to do it. He could fuck you over a fallen tree in the middle of the woods and you’d be more than happy to go along with it. Fuck it.

You pulled the photo out of your back pocket then, looking down at it in your hand for a moment. Holding out the photo towards him with a tantalizing wave of the object you gave him a poorly suppressed smile and answered, “Take it then.” Those blue eyes narrowed just a bit and then his hand shot forward. You pulled yours back, his fingers wrapping around only thin air this time. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip even as you smiled and gave a short, suppressed chuckle. Oh you were gonna pay for this so good…

In the next moment though, everything turned into a blur of motion. John sprung forward, his strong arms wrapping around your waist trapping you against him and at the same moment you heard a chair fall over as Cerberus lunged out from under the table with blinding speed. Your eyes went wide as you watched the Dutchie open his maw as he was about to take hold.

Cerberus was about to tear John a new one as he perceived a threat in the actions. Friend or not he would protect you from all dangers, both seen and unseen. “NEIN!” Your voice rose to a shout just before those jaws snapped shut on what you knew were thickly muscled thighs and ass cheeks. A string of whines came from the dog in response as he immediately paced nervously back and forth the moment he heard your command.

John whirled around in surprise to look at the dog, the arms he’d wrapped around your waist releasing you in a heartbeat. His blue eyes were wide as he glanced at you with seemingly just as many nerves as the big Dutchie was currently displaying. Both of them glanced at one another and then towards you, neither really understanding what had just happened. “Shit…I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d do that.” Price’s wide eyes found you as you saw the calm slowly wash over him, hiding his nervous expression behind that carefully crafted persona of The Captain Price he always wore. For a moment it had been down, that strong, nearly unbreakable wall had cracked to let you see the softer man beneath. He had feared those strong, unrelenting jaws just as any man did.

Your own gaze was full of worry now though as you sat back on the bed and forced calmness into your tone as well as your expression before you said, “Hier, Cerberus.” The Dutchie’s ears were pinned back to his head, whines still escaping him as he pressed himself between your thighs. Cerberus had not been playing though, there were no sneezes or perked up ears. His tail was tucked, his ears were pinned, and he was panting nervously as he found comfort in your warm and familiar touch. The Dutch Shepherd knew that he had incorrectly evaluated the situation and to have heard such a loud negative command come from your mouth was almost as if you had struck him with your fist.

Cerberus hid his face between your thighs as you worked to calm him down, John watching on quietly with his inspecting gaze. Finally though the brunette asked, "He thought I was going to hurt you, didn't he?" A slow nod was your only confirmation as one of your palms rested on the top of the Dutchie's head and the other between his shoulder blades. You didn't pet or coo at him, he didn't need to be coddled. The only thing he needed right now was to know you weren't angry, he needed his confidence to be restored and that could be achieved without praising an incorrect response. So you merely sat there on John's bed quietly, even as the Brit took a seat beside you.

"Is he ok?" That deliciously worried voice asked, shit he even cared about your dog. You were both in far too deep with one another now. Slowly you gave John another nod of affirmation. The whining had stopped as well as the panting. Cerberus had fallen silent once more as he looked up at you, ears still pinned back before he glanced away towards John. That big head tilted, his eyes filled with so much confusion it was akin to the confusion you’d see on a child’s face when they were being reprimanded for doing something they didn’t quite understand.

Catching the dog's attention with a single light click of your tongue against the roof of your mouth had his ears perked up. Cerberus was visibly at attention now, tense and awaiting your command. With a sigh you kept your eyes on the dog but spoke to John with that calm tone, "You have no idea how close you just came to losing an ass cheek." The man beside you seemed to stiffen but you didn't know if it was from trying to hold in his amusement or from his surprise at your statement.

A few quiet moments and then you said sharply, "Sitz." The dog's butt hit the ground in a heartbeat and you awarded him with a soft smile. At first you weren't sure how to proceed, how to correct the behavior. You'd never had to do that before. No dog had ever gone after someone you were about to have sex with so this was new territory. It vexed you for more than a few moments as you watched Cerberus with an even neutral look. Even while you were confused it was imperative he didn't know that, he needed to have confidence in you and your decisions.

Finally you turned that even gaze on John and held out a hand to him, "Remember how I introduced you the first time?" John gave a single nod that he did in fact remember before you held your hand out, palm facing up. "Well then let me see your hand again. He's gotta learn, and he's gotta remember this time, not to go after you without being instructed. No matter the situation." The look on the Brit's was far past skeptical now. He made it very clear that he didn't like it by the furrowing of those dark brows and hard set line of his mouth.

It didn't seem like he wanted to relent on this. Maybe some gentle and sweet coaxing would do the trick. Dropping your hand to your thigh you tilted your head and leaned towards him a bit, smirking at his obvious hesitation. His heated gaze from a few moments ago was gone though. He was ice cold now with a steeled look as you asked, "You don't trust me? You've already done it once, what's one more time?"

John gave a stubborn harrumph before he answered, "I trust you…But it didn't stick last time though, what makes you think it'll stick this time?" He turned a cautious look towards the big Dutchie sitting on the floor. Your smirk turned a little more into a warm smile then, Cerberus eyeing John and vice versa. It was an amusing sight to be quite honest. The two seemingly were at odds when it came to you, especially at this very moment.

You shifted back on the bed, drawing both of their eyes to your movements as you slid behind John. He tensed a bit as you did, your chin resting on his shoulder as you settled against him, your chest flush with his back. Those blue eyes turned to find you for just a moment, considering your closeness with restrained interest. Your arms were wrapped around him from behind with your fingers laced together, your palms pressing against the strong planes of his stomach. When you shifted against him his eyebrows raised, unable to hide the quick intake of breath that was just shy of a gasp.

Slow and steady wins the race with this one it would seem. You had a horse like that once. A snort almost left you at that thought, especially when it occurred to you that you still had a horse like that. Just a bit taller than you with blue eyes, brunette hair, and the nicest beard to run your hands through. Wait Speck, hold on, back it up. You had a job to do. Gotta keep John from losing one of those perfectly rounded butt cheeks you loved to look at so much. Otherwise Cerberus might just take it off the next time when he inevitably went at him faster the next time.

Your fingers released one another, one hand sliding up his side, running over the t-shirt slowly as you felt his intercostal muscles in their ridged fashion just beneath the fabric. His arm raised instinctively then, providing your hand more room to explore as you tilted your face down to press a gentle kiss against the peak of his shoulder. John hummed appreciatively as slowly your fingers traced along the underside of his upper arm. Skimming over his bicep and then his tricep before continuing their slow path down to his forearm. The short dark hairs of his arms caught against your calloused fingers before you wrapped them around his wrist and turned his hand over slowly.

Until then he had been fairly oblivious to what you were doing, distracted by the slow and distracting ministrations of your hands. The second he realized though John tensed and narrowed those blue eyes at you over his shoulder. You held that same calm look though, despite the little jump in your heart when he leveled that gaze at you. Pressing another kiss to his shoulder you whispered with an even tone to him, "Trust me, Angel. I've got you." He melted back against you the second you said that little pet name and you cupped the back of his hand in your palm as you leaned him forward on the bed.

Cerberus, who had been sitting patiently at the edge of the bed while you coaxed John into doing this once more, was already leaning forward himself. The big, black head tilted before you said in a louder, but still calm, voice, "Duft." His long muzzle pressed immediately into Price's palm, sniffing for a few moments before he gave the man a few cautious licks. John couldn't have cared less about the dog though, he was still watching you.

Deep blue eyes leveled at where you were, just behind him in his peripheral view and tantalizingly just out of sight. He could feel you shifting behind him now, your hips occasionally sliding against where they were settled against his backside. There was a red tint to his face now and he didn't seem to give two shits about what Cerberus was doing until you whispered, "Gotta look at him, John. He knows you're not paying attention."

Silence prevailed for a few long moments, his beard twitching around the corners of his mouth before he rumbled out, "I'm paying plenty of attention, love." You smiled a bit before you leaned towards his cheek and pressed your lips just behind his ear. Satisfaction vibrated through him in what had to have been a purr, you’d have sworn it in front of your momma.

You shook your head and answered him quickly though, forcing yourself to stay focused now that John was a lost cause, “Not enough attention. Look at him, not at me, alright?” The brunette was pressing back into your chest now, leaning his cheek closer to yours so you could feel the scratch of his beard against your skin. Great, you’d given him just a bit too much and now he couldn’t pay attention to a damn thing you were saying. This man’s head was in the clouds and if it wasn't for the fact you were so focused on correcting Cerberus you probably would have been just as out of it.

However you had a job to do. You were forward focused on the task at hand. At least until his free hand drifted from where it had been over the back of yours still pressed against his stomach. You felt his fingertips graze over your knee before sliding up the length of your thigh. Oh he was on a warpath today. “Again? Really?” The corners of his mouth raised in amusement as he shifted the swell of his backside against your clothed member.

His fingers dug into the flesh of your hip behind him as he answered you, “As if you weren’t just begging me for it five minutes ago.” John pulled his other hand out of your grip, away from Cerberus’ sniffing nose as he started to turn on you. There wasn’t exactly anywhere else to go though, your back had already been pressed between him and the wall as he found your eyes. That burning desire was back as he edged closer to your lips, sitting sideways on the bed with your legs still framing his body. “Besides I can’t get enough of you, sweetheart.”

John pressed closer, the tip of his nose grazing against your skin as he added with a whisper, “Can’t stop thinking about you.” His beard was tickling your lips now, barely any distance now between the two of you but he wouldn’t close it. Just sat there watching your eyes, waiting for something. What was it he was waiting for? He seemed to know pretty well what he wanted so what could he possibly be waiting for you to do?

Too many questions and this was taking too damn long. He could make requests another time. Rather than wait for him you closed the distance. And the second you pressed your lips to his something started beeping. An angry growl came from deep in his chest as he pulled away. It wasn't anger with you, it was anger for yet another interruption. Yall were always getting interrupted. Every fucking time. He pulled his hands away from your already burning skin to fish around in his pockets until he pulled out his phone. Though even as the beeping continued the screen stayed dark.

Now not only was John angry he was confused as well. To be quite honest, so were you and you couldn't blame him. Confusion controlled your expression as you watched the phone stay stubbornly dark all the while the beeping continued. Until finally it cut off and both you and John glanced at each other until he muttered under his breath, "What the fuck?" You huffed in forced amusement and shook your head, obviously agreeing with that short synopsis of what had just occurred.

However you still had many other things on your mind after you had seen his obvious desire twice now. So, rather than let your thoughts run rampant about the ghostly beeping in Captain Price's bunkhouse you focused back on what you had been doing before it started. Taking his phone from his hand you tossed it on the small table beside the bed. He watched with a smug smile, his brows raised before you grabbed his hand and whispered, "Shut up." John let out a light chuckle as he turned a bit further on the bed towards you.

Your fingers wrapped into the collar of his shirt pulling him towards you. His hands braced on either side of you, caging you in with those strong arms. Impossibly large thighs were settled underneath one of yours causing your knee to hitch up just a bit as he stopped you from pulling him all the way. The brunette's head shook slowly, his lips just out of reach as he continued to give you that smug smile. "Eager now, aren't you?" Fingers grazed over your hip where your shirt had risen up just a bit. Shifting closer to him he pulled his lips away from yours again, keeping them just out of your reach. John's head shook once more as he stated simply, seemingly unbothered by that needy look on your face, "I asked you a question. Don't make me ask again…" His words trailed off, and every single word from him lit a fresh fire in your nerves.

A soft hum left your throat before you managed to get out, "Sorry. I just, I need you. Please," the Brit tilted his mouth towards you before he nodded and leaned forward finally. Letting you have the small satisfaction of his teasing mouth against your own. It was a bandaid for the burning of what felt like your very soul whenever he was near. John could consume you just by being in the same room as you, and it didn't matter whether he was even paying you any attention. It was a deep-seated need for him that seemed to drive every thought and decision you'd made lately.

Not even the burning shame could stop you from wanting this man. His beard no longer prickled against the sensitive skin of your face as much now, your own growing beard providing a little barrier of protection against the beard burn. Still though you could feel the familiar tickle of it against you. Smiling, you leaned further into the slow kiss. John shifted against you turning to face you completely now, his knees finding the bed and his hips settling between your thighs. He was rutting against you through the fabric that kept you from one another.

Your head was craned painfully against the wall but it didn't matter, not right now. Not while John was so close, and especially not when it was him pressing you back into it. Slowly you released his shirt from your strong grasp, sliding your fingers down the front of his chest and then his stomach, scratching his skin through the thick fabric that separated you from the skin beneath. Stopping at the waistband of his jeans you hooked two fingers into them, feeling him buck into you. As he did you could feel his awakening erection just below the fabric and it only fueled your own interested member.

Humming against your mouth he finally pulled his lips from yours, smiling down at you as your hips pushed up to return the favor of the friction against him. His tongue swiped out to wet his lips before he leaned down again, bypassing your lips and headed straight for your ear. Lips pressed against the shell before finding their way down to suck at the lobe of your ear for just a moment before he finally whispered, "Want me to fuck you then, love? Want me to fuck you rough?" Christ his voice vibrated your ear drums just right, driving you wild just through simply asking you a question, it didn’t even matter how dirty his words were.

You arched into him and nodded a few quick times, his lips now suckling at the skin just behind your ear. His teeth nibbling at you like you were a tasty treat he was savoring and you could feel him smile against you. Shit answer him, he's gonna stop, open your mouth and say something. It took you almost too long, you could feel him slowing down, about to pull away again to reprimand you somehow before you finally managed to whisper, "Yes. Fuck me. Please fuck me, rough and dirty. You know how I like it," his tongue darted out to soothe a harder bite against your neck before he nodded slowly. His breath whispering over the sensitive skin that was just above your pounding pulse, goosebumps rising along the skin in response.

"Want me to make you beg? Fuck you like you're my whore, eh?" God yes, yes you did. That's all you could think about. Please, yes. Your desperate nods and the pleading sounds from your throat seemed to satisfy him as he continued to kiss and suckle at your neck for a few more tension building moments. And then he pulled away so suddenly your eyes widened in surprise as you found his hard, blue gaze. His chin jerked towards the head of the bed then as he slid back and off the bed, "Not fucking you against a wall…Not today anyway. Get up there, hurry up." Your groan of annoyance had the hands he'd started to use to unbuckle his belt stalling before he got it undone. "You got a problem with that? Got a problem with doing what you're told?"

Immediately you shook your head, voice springing from your throat just as quick, "No!" His dark brows had furrowed by now, staring at you with that same hard look before you repeated, "No, no problem at all." John's jaw tensed before he gestured with a jerk of his chin to the head of the bed again as his fingers resumed undoing the buckle of his belt again. Sliding hurriedly up the bed you laid on your back, starting to work on your own belt, button, and zipper.

John didn't give you the chance to even start pushing the pants down your thighs before he was moving back onto the bed. One of his hands grabbed your wrists tossing them to the side before he had you by the waist and was flipping you over onto your stomach. The man was jerking you around as if you weighed nothing. Like you were as light as a feather. As hot as that was he didn't stop there though.

Strong hands gripped your hips pulling them up until you felt his cock rutting against your still clothed ass. Glancing back at him you could see he hadn't even bothered to shove his pants and underwear down either. The pants were still hanging around his hips as he leaned down, snaking a hand around to your front. His fingers worked quickly on your button and zipper, his other hand still guiding his leaking cock over the fabric of your jeans. The man didn't even look at you, focused on his own needs right now and it just felt so much more dirty than anything you'd ever done with him. Why was it so hot to be about to fuck with all your clothes on?

It was because you knew, even if neither of you were saying it, that he was about to use you, wreck you, with little regard for your own needs. And Christ if getting used by someone didn't make your erection throb something harsh. The jeans scratched harshly against your skin as John shoved them down, just barely enough so that he could see your entire backside. The familiar feel of his length sliding between your ass cheeks had you turning your face back into where your forearms were braced in front of you, a soft hum escaping your lips.

Just as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance the both of you froze, hearing it again. That insidious beeping that was quickly becoming your nemesis even more so than all the keypads scattered around this base for which you had no code. Pushing yourself up off your elbows you glanced towards John's phone, your brows furrowing as the screen was still dark. Still you grabbed it, pressing the button on the side to light up the screen just in case but it was just a regular old screensaver. "What the hell is going on?" John voiced yalls question before you even had a chance.

Blue hues darted around the room, his eyes following his ears as you both tried to find the source of the interrupting beeping now. When he glanced down at you he growled out quickly, "It's coming from you. What the fuck, Speck?" His frustrated look turned a bit softer when he saw the clear confusion in your eyes. It was clear to see you had no idea what the fuck was going on anymore, your head was in the clouds.

Shrugging your shoulders you muttered, "It is?" Sitting back on your heels you patted your chest before moving your hands lower quickly until you hit your pocket. Your eyes widened as you let out a few quick curses and dug into your pocket. Pulling out the phone Wade had given you, your eyes went wide at the caller ID on the phone. 'Laswell.' You blinked blankly at the screen for a heartbeat before you slowly slid the answer button and held the phone up to your ear, "Hello?" John huffed behind you his forehead falling forward to land on your shoulder. His frustration was obvious right now, and he wasn’t happy in the slightest.

You'd honestly forgotten about Wade giving it to you, and you wished you'd just left it in your bunkhouse now. The woman's voice sounded on the other end of the line though as she said rather blatantly, "I need you to come in for the interrogation of the mother and son. They don't speak English and you already have a history with them. We're losing too much time now. Al-Mustafa could move at any point. Meet me at the interrogation room in five minutes." She didn't even give you a chance to say anything before she hung up the phone.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Part 9

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 12.8k

Synopsis: Smut, getting a bit more Speck lore for those of you who are now invested in this man because honestly same

Warnings: 18+ Smut I mean it's like half of this chapter, I needed to be fed too, mentions of past traumas

Warmth enveloped you in a cocoon of safety, of happiness. Pulling you so deep into the void of your subconscious it felt like you'd never be able to emerge from it again. “Hey Peaches,” your eyes shot around the dark dome of your mind, looking for the source of that name, that voice. The eyes that stared back at you were so familiar, so blue, but they weren’t accompanied by the British accent you’d grown so accustomed to seeing them with lately. He was American and had dark hair with reddish highlights, his face square as was his jaw, with an upturned nose, and freckles dotting every expanse of skin you could see including his neck and shoulders.

For the first time you saw his face as you originally remembered it, not the burnt husk you’d been forced to stare at for an hour as they dug you out from under that wall. Not the man who had reached for you while he cried and begged for you to have mercy on him. This was the man who had been your best friend through thick and thin. The man who had let you sleep at his apartment that night your wife had locked you out of the house because she thought you'd been staring at another woman. This was your number two, your right hand, and the team jokester.

A hand reached out for him, the desire to touch him slamming into you suddenly, but he backed away from you with a shake of his head and a sorrowful smile. “Sorry boss. I'm here, but I’m not really…here, Peaches,” it hurt to hear that name come out of his mouth again but God if it didn’t make you smile still. The team would never have dared to call you that name on duty, but when yall were just joking around? It was the only name they seemed to ever remember. As if they'd forgotten you were their boss and would have them running laps the next day until they puked. Peaches, Peach, Peachy, as many forms of that name as they could come up with. All because they’d walked in on you eating a peach one damn time after you’d just gotten out of the shower with a towel around your waist.

Your head tilted and a smile found your mouth as you nodded in understanding, “Figured as much McCann. A man can dream though can’t he?” The other man gave you a full mouthed smile then, teeth and everything. You'd really missed that damn smile these last couple years. McCann’s hands shoved into his pockets as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet and then back on his heels. How did he look so carefree even though he knew he was dead? Hell that was just McCann though, always smiling and itching for a good time.

His shoulders shrugged before he answered in his typical joking tone, “That’s exactly what you’re doing right now, isn’t it boss?” Your eyes darted around the dark expanse of the void of your consciousness before you nodded your agreement. You hadn't realized it until he pointed it out but yeah, you were definitely asleep right now. McCann’s head moved a bit to catch your attention again though before he said, “It has been a while though, hasn’t it?” You nodded again, your smile falling from your lips at the thought before he continued, “It’s ok though.” Inspecting his form closely your head tilted in question as you watched him glance behind you before he added, “Everything’s great boss. Me and the boys are happy, even Xena,” a bark accompanied that and you turned around quickly, surprise evident in your expression.

The warmth that had been encompassing your body dissipated slowly, but the safety remained. Wherever you were you knew you were going to be ok until that warmth returned. Especially when the Malinois reared back on her hind legs and her front paws found your chest. Nearly twelve years old her face was gray and her body had matured, rounding her belly a bit more than when you had first been introduced to her. But Xena still had the boundless energy of a puppy, tail going a mile a minute as you reached for her head but even as you pet it you felt nothing. It chilled your body even quicker as you realized there wasn't any kind of feeling to accompany her, not even as her tongue ran over the skin of your chin.

There was no pressure or warmth of a body touching you, only the sight that your hand was on her face. Before you could dwell on the fact that her paws felt weightless against you though, she was bounding off behind McCann, circling around him to sit at his side facing you with her tongue out as she panted. “Good to hear, Ryan,” the smile on the man in front of you widened at the name. You’d always melted at that smile and it was no different now, “Can I ask you a question though?” His brows rose before he nodded, his head tilting curiously, “What are you doin here, man? I mean it's been two years, kinda late to give me the 'Wasn't your fault, boss'" you mimicked him nearly perfectly as you continued, "Don’t you think?” McCann’s smile seemed to falter then, a look of confusion sweeping over his face.

Did he not know? How could he not know? Please don't make me have to tell him he's dead. “Well, boss," he let out a sigh, "You haven’t exactly thought about us in two years have you? Not since we died,” the deadpan way he said it made your jaw clench painfully. So he did know then, your question had just upset him, or maybe annoyed him. McCann shrugged before that crooked smile found his face again, his joking tone returning a second later, “We knew you’d get there eventually though Peaches. Just didn’t think it would take that long. Guess we should have known though, you were always the type to box it all up for later, weren't you?” You swallowed hard and took a step closer, this time he didn’t back away though, his body steady in front of you.

McCann stood less than a foot away, a few inches shorter than you with that crooked smile beaming up at you without a care in the world. “I’m sorry,” you forced the words out in a cracking voice and the smile before you softened at the sound. You cleared your throat and forced out even more, "It never should have been you, you were always the one that was supposed to get home." That dark haired head tilted, as did the furry one sitting beside him.

His hand found your shoulder and again you felt nothing, no warmth, no pressure, not even when he squeezed your shoulder. It was painful to realize even if he was here, dream or something else, you'd never feel that warm, friendly touch again. Your eyes focused back on his light blue hues before he said, "It was never your fault, boss. It sucked, yeah. I mean it well and truly sucked, but it happens sometimes. War's a bitch man, and eventually it gets us all. It'll even get you one day too, just a matter of when and where, bossman," you let out a pent up breath and nodded back to him. He wasn't wrong, he rarely ever was. McCann might have put on the clown shoes everyday but he was one of the most intelligent operators you had ever seen and had the pleasure to work with.

When he stepped closer to you you nearly backed away, he'd been your best friend in life. While you had always wanted more you never would have dared to betray the wedding vows you took, no matter how you felt about the woman you'd been pressured into marrying. So when his hand cupped your face it shocked you, your mouth opening in surprise and not only because he was rubbing a roughened thumb over your cheek but because you could feel it. It was like he was actually there. Warmth was flooding your body again, the safe haven you'd found the night before had returned it seemed.

McCann leaned forward, his lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss before he pulled back. You stood there shocked, brows in your hairline and jaw hanging slack. It wasn't him, logically you knew that, your chance with McCann had long since passed. But you'd felt something right then, some kind of tenderness from a human body. A body you were growing to know very well too, those were John's lips you'd just felt.

When you focused back on Ryan he was watching you curiously. That crooked smile was on his mouth again as he joked, "Are ya really that eager there Peaches?" Your head tilted questioningly and his eyes traveled down, staring at the tent in the jeans you were currently wearing. Shifting awkwardly on your feet you huffed a bit and reached down to cover yourself, but he stopped you before you could. "Let me help you with that, boss," he palmed at you through the fabric and you sighed at the sensation. At the thought of him doing anything to you down there.

His hands worked quickly on the buttons and the zipper, pulling at the waistband of your jeans and the underwear beneath it with hurried fingers. Those blue eyes were staring at the tent before flicking back up to find you. Asking you a silent question you weren't sure you knew the answer to. Your subconscious was playing cruel tricks on your mind, and you shut your eyes for a moment, trying to clear your head so you could think. "No," the words came out before you had a chance to really even consider them. And while you rushed the first time you firmly stated it again, "No Ryan. I can't."

McCann's gaze was already on you when you managed to finally look down at him again. His hands wrapped around the bones of your hips as he watched you. "Our timing was always terrible, Peaches. Makes sense we keep the same theme even when I'm dead right?" Pain lanced through your heart at his statement. Hearing him talk so easily about it was enough to nearly send you into the same state you'd been in yesterday. The man leaned into you for a moment, hands still on your hips as he asked, "Does the Brit make you happy at least?" More shock found your expression and you watched that crooked smile spread over his face turning into a cocky grin you remembered so well.

Slowly though you answered him, "He…" John's face flashed in your mind, his little chuckles, his quiet smiles and smirks, the beanie he'd worn at the bar the night you'd first talked to him. It was the little things that brought a smile to your face. Things you doubted he'd even remember, but you did. They stuck in your mind like a glue trap. It was the little things you'd never had before that were what you always thought about. Sure the memory of the amazing sex was nice, but it wasn't just about the sex. Not for you anyway.

A nod finally had your head bobbing as you beamed a smile down at the dark haired man in front of you, "He does yeah. At least I think he does, I've never really felt like this before so I think that's what this is. He's stubborn and fuckin annoying sometimes sure. And Lord does he make me feel good. Ryan, I haven't been this happy in…" Your sentence trailed off slowly as you thought and then finally managed, "Ever." God that was sad. Even when you'd been happy with the SEALs, with your brothers, you'd always known you'd have to go back to her. To that house.

At the end of the day, no matter how much you'd enjoyed your time away she was always waiting for you when you got home with some new complaint, some new gripe. You never could enjoy your time away unless you were on a deployment because otherwise the second you got home all smiles it was like she made it her personal mission to get rid of it. She'd sit you down at the dining room table as she lost her mind because the bulb in the garage went out. Or God forbid she served you dinner. Every time she did you were always afraid she'd do it again. Spike your food with something to get what she so desperately wanted from you. There had been one point in your marriage you'd told her to just go find a man she enjoyed so she'd leave you alone and quit asking you for that. She'd responded by breaking down into sobs asking why you wanted a divorce, and you'd ended up giving in and joining her in the bed that night just to get her to stop crying. Every day with that woman was an exhausting roller coaster of bullshit.

McCann could read your thoughts as he whispered, "Good, you deserve to be happy, boss. Now stop thinking about her. There's a reason we always called her the Warden, bossman, she's a bitch, she doesn't deserve anymore of your attention." You couldn't disagree with him, that woman had certainly always had a way that made her completely unlikable. McCann stepped back away from you slowly, "You keep thinking about her you're gonna kill your boner, Peaches. Now go say hey to your Brit for me. Go on, go have fun," the crooked smile disappeared slowly until you were alone in the black void. You weren't there for long though.

Swirls of heat flooded up to your cheeks before flooding through the rest of your body. It was almost uncomfortably hot but it was accompanied by such a pleasurable shock you gave a small smile instead. Your teeth grazed over your bottom lip, drawing it in as you pushed up into the warm sensation below the sheets. A low hum came from low in your throat, wrecked by sleep and lust in equal measures. Brows raised on your forehead before you blinked open an eye lazily to glance around the room.

Confusion hit you as you looked around the darkness. This wasn't your bunkhouse, it wasn't your room, and it especially was not your bed. Where in the hell were you- A gasp of air into your lungs as a tongue teased at your entrance. Then a low moan echoed through the room as your thoughts went quiet, the tongue continuing its work as their hand pumped up and down your length. Your hands shot down in search of them, but you found only the sheets to wrap your fingers in. “Ohhh,” you breathed out the air you’d just sucked in before lifting your head to look down. The white sheets obscured the large figure between your thighs, but it didn’t matter because when the mouth left your entrance and returned to its task before that you could feel them suckling at the head of your cock eagerly. It was like they were sucking on a damn jolly rancher and it had you both speechless and thoughtless in their ministrations.

When the low hum answered your quiet pants your hips bucked up towards the mouth, searching for more of those delicious vibrations. A hand pressed against your abdomen though and stopped you from making it very far, apparently they wanted you to keep still and they weren’t going to let you have your way with them. Your limbs were still weak and you couldn’t manage to push past the resistance they were pressing down on your hips with.

You felt the tiniest prick of frustration reach the back of your mind in response, a reaction you couldn't help as you tried once more with a desperate thrust upwards with your hips. The lips wrapped around the head of your cock didn’t deny your quiet request for more this time as you felt the mouth slide down the length agonizingly slow, their hands still holding your hips in place as they went. The tip of your erection hit the back of the person's throat as they held their mouth in place for a moment. Then just as slowly as they had sunk down they slid back up, their mouth pulling off for just a second as their hand took its place on your member.

The flat of their tongue suddenly drug across the head, the tip of their tongue dipping into the slit as your head pressed back into the pillow and your eyes shut tight. Your hand shot to the side of the bed, gripping it hard with a moan that you did your best to restrain and failed completely at. As the lips wrapped once more around you and you suffered pleasurably through another few moments of torturous suckling on the head of your erection you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Hurriedly you grabbed at the edge of the sheets and pushed them down over the brunette haired man with his lips currently wrapped around your cock and the slightest hint of red burning his cheeks and the tips of ears. His face tilted up even as his tongue swirled around your member slowly, those blue eyes finding you through dark lashes as his mouth pulled off your length. A string of saliva dripping down his chin that you could see glistening even in the darkness shrouding yall.

A cocky smirk found his mouth as his hand pumped slowly up and down your length. “Why are you awake so early, Love?” His voice was just as sleep wrecked as yours, deeper than normal and scratchy beyond belief after he'd been sucking on your cock for who knows how long now. Oh God you’d forgotten about falling asleep in his arms yesterday. Falling asleep in his bed as he’d hummed in that quiet, rumble and rubbed gentle circles into your temples. His voice penetrated your very soul, it was already deep enough he didn’t need the assistance of a morning voice to help him sound any sexier.

Your head tilted back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling with a deep intake of breath. Damn his hand felt good. Warm against your skin, pressure firm as it slid up the length and then back down, and the fuckin calluses. God his calluses caught on seemingly every sensitive vein of your erection in all the right ways. Walking the line between pain and pleasure like he always seemed to be doing. “What a fuckin mornin’, hun,” your southern drawl came out in harsh contrast to the way you normally sounded.

Most of the time you hid your southern roots in the way you spoke, and acted. It wasn’t often you used the phrases and words so common to where you had grown up, all in your attempt to blend in as well as you could. Not until you’d started to feel comfortable and let your guard down, and boy was it down right now. When you glanced back down you saw the smirk that had grown into a full blown smile. The corners of his eyes were crinkled and his forehead was showing off his wrinkles and God he looked like a saint framed by the moonlight, barely filtering in through the window.

As you sat up on your elbows his head lowered again, tongue dragging down your length before he was lapping at your balls. Suckling on them with renewed fervor as your hands curled into the sheets in an attempt not to grab him by the head and attempt to fuck his face again. Another low moan pulled out of your throat before he once more pulled his mouth away. You responded with a quiet, needy whine as you started to shift on the bed, searching for his hand at the very least.

"Do me a favor?" His question caught you off guard at first and you blinked a couple times before giving him a hesitant nod, a bit worried about what he was going to ask you to do in the middle of this. You doubted you’d be able to do much with how far gone you already were and still weak with sleep. He glanced to your right where the bedside table was and you followed his gaze, "Drink something.” The hell did he just say? You didn’t even have a chance to react though before he continued, “You fell asleep before you could yesterday and I didn't want to wake you up."

You turned your head to glance at the bedside table then, staring blankly at the two bottles sitting there. Was here…serious? Who were you kidding, of course he was serious. This is the same man who’d destroyed you in his car twice and then proceeded to ask if you were fucking hungry. The man had some kind of kink for taking care of you. Was that even a thing? Probably. You glanced back down at him, studying his smiling gaze for a second before you finally turned back to two bottles once more.

One was just plain water while the other was a Powerade. Man he was a fuckin saint. His hand drug up your length slowly, wrapping around you just below the ridge where your head flared out. You couldn’t help the breathy moan you let out as his tongue found the head and shot out, swirling around it as he watched you and then he stopped again. "Oh God," you breathed out and found his burning gaze below you once more, "You- Oh lord-" His hand continued to work you, occasionally his tongue added its support as he licked at the pulsing veins on your shaft in short, teasing swipes of his tongue.

Until he wasn't and you whimpered at the sudden loss of the friction, the sudden loss of him. Your eyes shot down, watching as his head tilted and he glanced at the bottles on the bedside table again. Oh yeah, that's right, he wanted you to drink something. He’d just said that and yet you’d already forgotten about it. This man was one hell of a memory loss drug, that was for sure. You sat up, his eyes following you slowly as yours trailed down his bare back to the waistband of his underwear. The waist you just wanted to grab and hold onto and never let go of.

The man between your thighs started to move then, like he was about to sit up or move from the only place you wanted him to be right then. Your hand pressed between his shoulder blades, stopping him from moving and you muttered, "I'm goin, alright? I’m getting a drink." His lips pressed into the skin along the inside of your thighs as he nodded and waited patiently for you to do just that, and you could feel the hint of his smile against your bare skin. Leaning back you grabbed the Powerade bottle off the bedside table quickly, feeling his hand return to your aching member in response.

Stifling a moan you twisted off the cap, nearly forgetting again that you were supposed to be drinking. Pressing the bottle to your lips and tilting it back you swallowed a sip. The rest happened of its own accord as you downed nearly the whole bottle in one go. Thirstily chugging the bottle as you replenished all of the liquids and electrolytes you’d lost the day before. As you pulled it away from your lips to take a breath his mouth found the base of your cock. Mouthing at it with his lips and tongue as he worked his way up the length, traveling up as saliva trailed in his wake.

When his lips found the head and wrapped around it once more your head fell back at the blissful sensation. God he worked miracles with that mouth. A tap hit the bottle still in your hand and you looked down with a couple slow blinks before you saw the finger of his freehand pointing to the Powerade with a warning in his eyes. Anything to keep him suckling on you like that. By God you’d give him anything he wanted. The bottle found your lips again as you tilted it back and downed the rest hurriedly.

The second you swallowed though a disgustingly loud moan of need left you as both his hands wrapped around your cock pumping up and down the length as he slid his mouth down to meet them. You didn't have the strength to stay up then, falling back to your elbows slowly and then all the way onto your back once more, the bottle clattering to the floor at the side of the bed somewhere along with the cap.

You couldn’t have cared less though, not while you were beginning to see stars because of him. His hands were working your entire length, enveloping it in that warm, firm pressure as he continued to pump them up and down your sensitive flesh. All the while he sucked the tip of your cock like he was trying to suck a milkshake through a goddamn straw. God the man was sucking the air from your lungs, since when were those two even connected.

Your head hit the pillow again, eyes shutting tight at the hard throbbing that was beginning in your member. Jesus you were getting close, so close you could nearly taste it now. How long had he been down there before you woke up? Shit you weren't even going to last another five minutes at this rate. Your breaths were coming in short gasps as you felt his mouth slip a little lower down your shaft as he removed one hand, tongue pressing firmly against the underside and another explosion of euphoria had you slamming a hand above your head into the wall for support. When he put both hands back along your length was when he really started to go to town. God you thought just the suckling and slow pumping was good?

The moment he added a twist of his hands as they followed his mouth up and then another twist on the down stroke with his mouth trailing behind, you turned into an absolute mess. Groans fell out of you that would have made a whore blush had they been standing within earshot. "J-John," you stammered out and he hummed questioningly, refusing to stop his ministrations.

Fuck you really should have just stayed quiet because now you really were close as hell and you could feel your abdomen tightening in expectation of the release of the building pressure. Your body anticipating the release you so desperately wanted, needed. Before he could hum again you managed to stammer out, "I'm- I'm close, hun. N-Not gon-gonna last if-if you keep-" His hands twisted again on the upstroke, catching right at the underside of the head and you couldn't help yourself but to buck up into his mouth, stopped only by the fact that he was currently double fisting your cock.

A rumbling chuckle found your ears and you looked down. His mouth had pulled off as did his hands and you let out an embarrassingly loud and needy whine into the air with a few quick shakes of your head. Quickly your hands shot down down to grab at his brunette hair, urging him gently back down and thank fucking God he listened and was feeling merciful because you couldn't have taken any edging right then. One hand wrapped around the base, his eyes flicking back up to find you as his mouth slipped back around your length and you felt yourself sink into that wet, warm heat. His mouth was positively sinful.

John's eyes stayed locked on yours as you felt your tip press against the back of his throat, holding your length steady in his mouth as he swallowed around it and then pulled back off. He let you set his pace, your hand still tangled into his hair as you pulled him up steadily and then back down. When your hand fell away he didn't even seem to notice, just kept going at the pace you'd already set for him. "John," your voice came out barely above a whisper, "Oh fuck, I'm close, hun. So fuckin close. Don't stop," he happily obliged, keeping up the steady rhythm and taking you even deeper into his mouth every time, humming every time your hips jerked up into his mouth.

God you were burning up. Sweating so bad you were sure you were going to be soaked by the time this was over. Your hands pulled at the hem of your shirt as the Brit watched with a raised brow until you were raising up again just enough to jerk the shirt off over your head. It found the ground in the next second and the entire time the man never even let up. John was impaling his throat on your length with reckless abandon, sloppily drooling all over you and he felt so damn good doing it. And good God he looked fucking phenomenal, so beautiful.

You gritted your teeth and then pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, head shaking on the pillow as you fought every instinct not to reach down and just start fuckin his throat. Glancing down at him you let out a pent up breath of air. It was like he could sense when you were looking at him as those blue eyes shot up to find your eyes through those dark lashes. “So beautiful,” you whispered, the hand you’d been bracing against the wall above you dropping back to the bed as you held onto the sheets once more. “Pretty as a fuckin peach with that mouth around my cock,” your moan fell out as he hummed in answer, the corners of his eyes lifting in amusement.

The throbbing was relentless now, the pressure built up so much you were struggling to remember to keep breathing. Your hand smacked against the wall beside you, fingers scratching wildly at the paint as you tried to find purchase on its smooth front, your other hand still digging into the sheets relentlessly. And yet still he didn't stop, just steadily sucked around your length with one hand around it following every movement of his mouth up and down your length. His other hand had moved to hold onto your thigh at some point but now it was trailing lower. Below his mouth and his other hand and you felt the feather light touch of the rough pads of those fingertips against your entrance.

They massaged gently against you, running over the tight muscle before massaging the skin directly between your entrance and cock. Sparks lit up your vision as he did and your back arched at the sensation. Holy- What the heck did he just- And then he did it again, harder this time as his fingers fell into a rhythm. A string of moans left your mouth followed by a loud, drawn out, "Ohhhh fuuuuuuck-" You couldn't even stop yourself, couldn't warn him before it happened.

Right as his mouth came up along your length you came hard. Filling his mouth in pulses as one hand shot to his hair and the other braced on the wall above your head once more, keeping him from pulling off your release filled his cheeks. Your back arched off the bed even more as short gasps filled the air around yall. He swallowed around the head of your cock eagerly, milking you dry until the sensitive nerves couldn't take it anymore, becoming more pain than pleasure now. "Stop, please, oh God, I can't-" Immediately his mouth pulled off in compliance and he sat up on his elbows looking up at you with smiling eyes.

John watched as you caught your breath, the bristly hairs on his chin running over the top of your thigh slowly as he nodded his head, lips tilting down to press a light kiss to your skin. As the heaving of your chest began to slow you felt his nose nudge against the bone of your hip. Felt his body shift over the top of you as he kissed and suckled his way up your now bare torso. A wet tongue dipped between your abdominals, before he nipped at the skin with his teeth and sucked it between his lips. John left hickeys all along the expanse of your stomach, claiming you without either of you really even thinking about it.

When he reached your pectorals he did the exact same thing. Leaving light teeth marks and sloppy kisses along your skin with a pleased smile. His tongue ran between them into the valley of your chest before he suckled at the skin, no doubt tasting the salt of your sweat and he seemed only to enjoy it more. His nose nuzzled against your chest, the tip of it running over a nipple and drawing out a lazy, tired smile from you. When you felt his hips run over your softened member you glanced down between both of your bodies.

John was holding himself over you with a heated look as his hips grinded into you, clothed only in the thin layer of underwear he was wearing. You could feel his barely contained erection running against your own now softened and sensitive member. Hell you could see it plain as day even in the dark. The outline as well as the patch of wetness on the fabric.

And then he laid down on top of you, driving the air from your lungs for a second before he lifted up to adjust himself and wrap his arms around your torso. His nose hit against your neck and his beard scratched at your bare shoulder as he relaxed on you like you were his mattress and pillow. "John?" He hummed in response to you and you felt the deep vibrations course through your chest before you asked, "What about you?"

You could feel the way his face lifted against your skin and you knew he was smiling, or smirking, one of the two. His lips pressed a gentle kiss against your neck before he shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not worried about it. It'll go away in a little bit." When you didn't respond and instead shifted your hips underneath him he chuckled on top of you, "Not if you keep doing that though. Be still, sweetheart, and go back to sleep. It’s way too early to be awake." You smiled at him and reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck.

A huff of surprise left him as you rolled him over, laying your weight on top of him instead as you kissed a trail up his neck, across his bearded jaw, and ended at his lips. Sitting up you glanced at the water bottle still left on the bedside table and your head tilted, "If it's so early where did you get the water and Powerade from?" The Brit ran his hands along your back before lacing them together behind you and turned to look at the unopened water bottle on the bedside table.

John smiled up at you then before pulling at your back to drag your weight back down on top of him, "Got them from the squad room." His answer was simple, matter-of-fact. Yet the knowledge he had traversed in the dark of night all the way across base and back just to get you a bottle of water and Powerade made something in your heart hurt, but in a…Good way? Was that possible?

You leaned down with a light hum of amusement and shook your head as you settled your body back against his, "So you went all the way across base to the squad room just to get me a bottle of water and some Powerade?" His face had buried back into your neck a moment later as he hummed an affirmative against you. Your cheek pressed against the pillow, nose nudging against his neck just as he was doing to you.

His cheek rested on top of yours then, effectively burying your face between the pillow and him and shrouding you in his warmth and the thick scent of oaks and…Chocolate? Dark chocolate, yeah, that was a new one you hadn't smelt before. Typically he smelt more like smoke, he must’ve had himself a cigar before he came back with the scent still so distinguishable on him right now. Your voice quieted and you whispered against his skin, "You're a fuckin dream, you know that right?"

The man huffed in amusement and shrugged, "I don't know about a dream, Love. Pretty sure I'm real," you rolled against his still hard length, cutting off his words with a teasing grind against him. He gasped lightly against your neck at the feeling before growling out low, "I'm tired right now, go back to sleep." Fingers grazed along your back in light strokes. One of his hands wound up in your hair as he massaged the base of your skull as well, trying to put you back to sleep.

You never even stood a chance to stay awake as he pulled the sheets up around your shoulders, shrouding you in his warmth and safety once more. There was no way you could keep yourself awake though, especially not with the way he massaged and his nails drug across your skin with gentle scratches. Slowly your body relaxed on top of him, your arms sliding up around his neck and wrapping him up in a death grip he had no chance to extricate himself from. John wasn't leaving this bed again unless you said he could and you were bound and determined even in sleep to make it happen. And whether you knew it or not, or even if you believed it, he didn't want to be anywhere else either way.

Sleep enveloped you in its embrace for the second time that night. John's cocoon of safety and warmth clinging tight to you like you'd never felt before. How had you ever slept without this? Without him? Oh that's right, you hadn't. Sleep was rare for you nowadays, it had been for a long time actually. The longer you went without having someone to pull against you, or to pull you against them, the worse you slept.

You'd been so devoid of this intimacy for so long it was a miracle you even found comfort in it anymore. Honestly it was a bit of a surprise that you weren’t trying to pry yourself away from him. Maybe you hadn’t known it but you were so touch starved even the part of your mind that told you to keep your distance craved even the smallest touch from him. Peace radiated through you, the pleasantness of his sudden wakeup call still coursing through you warmly. It was fading slowly, you could see the bad thoughts slowly trying to creep towards the light of that dying fire now.

God though, this had to be heaven at this very moment. As close as you would ever get to it anyway. This was the touch of an angel, that was what this Brit possessed and it made part of you begin to worry that you would corrupt him. You couldn't handle doing that to anyone else, not again. No one loved you, and you kept everyone away, it was the way of your world, a solid fact even if it did sometimes become lonely it didn't matter. It wasn’t your happiness that mattered if you cared about someone else, it was theirs. Everything you touched you destroyed, you'd heard it over and over and over again your entire life. And the one thing that scared you more than anything else in the world at that moment was that you'd do it to John too.

Everyone your whole life had told you that you wrecked everything. That you broke it down so completely there was nothing left to even attempt to fix. Like when the tractor's engine had overheated while you were using it and your Dad had smacked you over the back of the head for not realizing it before you'd blown the head gasket. Even at twelve years old you'd been a force of destruction. You should have known not to drive the tractor that long but you'd forgotten to ask. Hell you'd nearly put your family into debt that year trying to keep the whole farm running without the help of a tractor. The work that summer had been back-breaking. Your dad had you pulling you twice the hours of your other siblings, but you couldn’t blame him. It was your fault that yall had been in that mess.

That hadn't been your only fuck up though, it hadn't even been your worst. When you'd missed your daughter's first ever solo choir performance, now that had been a mission you wished you had never come back from. Wished you hadn’t had to see the heartbreak written on your little girl’s face the second your work phone had lit up. You had promised her, promised your baby girl you'd be there for her. And then you'd gotten the call and you watched as she broke down, begging you not to go. Crying and pleading with you relentlessly to be there for her just this one time. Your wife could have done that for hours and you merely would have been exhausted, but seeing your daughter doing the same thing had nearly broken you.

Your wife had just stood there watching and refused to help. Refused to pull your daughter's arms off of your neck, or even to move her out of the way so you could back out of the driveway. It had broken your heart and your relationship with the only lights in your life at the time. Both her and your son had rarely talked to you after that, even when you’d come back broken and nearly dead they hadn’t afforded you the time of day. That had been the straw that broke the camel's back. And when you came home you ended up having to watch your daughter crying in her room while your wife screamed that you had done this to her. God you still felt the sting of her nails in your neck after she'd nearly clawed your skin to shreds that night, not giving a care in the world to the bruises that littered your skin.

There were so many good things you had ruined, so many relationships and people, it felt almost irresponsible to take that risk with John as well. Even the ones you cared about you’d destroyed so completely. And John? He was different, he was, well he was important, more than anyone else you’d met in the past two years, that was for sure. How could you stand to hurt him? To make him think that the job, that your work, mattered more than him? You couldn’t take seeing him cry because you had to leave again and again and again, and you were never there when he needed you.

That risk weighed on you heavily, altering your dreams even as that cocoon of safety pushed them back as best it could. Nothing was indestructible though, not even the comfort John provided. The thoughts made it through the safety net, clouding your mind not in nightmares but in disheartening unpleasantness. Somehow that was worse, you’d rather have been forced to watch tragedy strike over and over again than have the highlight reel of your worst moments playing on repeat in your mind. The reminders that you weren't good, that you'd done so much bad in this world, and that John deserved so much better floated around in your subconscious thoughts. He deserved the world and you couldn't have even given him a pebble you'd found at the edge of a lake without somehow managing to blacken his soul with it.

You were a sickness, an impurity in the diamond that was earth that should anyone have ever tried to grade it, it never would have made it above an i3. You were the inclusion so big and disgusting that it was visible even to the naked eye. The cloud and indents were your heart and mind and not a reputable vendor in the world would have tried to market you to anyone. John deserved someone flawless. Someone who wasn't turned so easily into a wreck as you had been yesterday by something as stupid as a few lost items. He deserved to have someone to cry on, not to have someone breaking apart on him. John deserved someone pure, someone loving, someone who wasn't broken and cracked and falling to pieces already. He deserved a blank slate where he could write his name without having to see the names of those who had come before to shatter the delicate ceramics of your heart.

You didn't deserve him. How could you ever hope to live up to what this man truly deserved. You could never do anything to be worthy of the kindness he'd already shown and you certainly could never repay it. He was better than you. So much better than you. There was no simpler way to put it, you didn't deserve him. And he certainly didn't deserve to have to deal with you.

A sudden shift underneath you jostled you awake. Rough fingertips ran over the skin of your cheek and you blinked open your eyes, trying to clear them as streaks lined your vision. It wasn't just bleariness that was clouding them though. You felt the patch of wetness beneath your cheek. When did you start crying? John was holding your face in his hands, looking up at you with concern and confusion in his eyes.

His thumb ran over your cheek to wipe away the tears as he frowned down at the sight of you once more crying in his presence, "What's wrong?" Well this was embarrassing beyond belief. Two times in less than twenty four hours, really? Get it together Speck. The man had already let you cry yourself to sleep the day before, then he'd woken you up in the middle of the night to give you the best early morning, or was it late night, head of your life. Yet here you were still bawling like a little bitch. When your eyes shut and you tried to hide your face back in the pillow and the curve of his neck, his hand at your jaw stopped you cold. He drew your eyes back to his face and shook his head before whispering, "Tell me. I'm here to listen, whatever you need, Love."

Well that only made it ten times worse. A fresh well of tears were making their way to your eyes and before he could see them you reached a hand up and pulled him down towards you. Your mouth found his hungrily, needing him so completely your entire chest hurt at the thought of not having him. The tip of your tongue teased at his lips and you felt him rut against you in response, unable to stop the reaction after denying himself his own release earlier. You sighed at the feeling of his still covered length grinding against your own naked one.

Your bodies were so entwined as he rolled your both over it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. All you knew was that your arms were wrapped around his neck pulling him into you with one leg thrown over his hip so he could keep dragging his needy erection over yours. Vaguely you knew one of his hands had traveled down to grope at the plump flesh of your ass while the other hand was against your face, but it barely even registered. His slow grinding against your hips was already driving you mad with desire. Sweat was beading up along your flesh as the heat of the rising sun caught in the room and even the thin sheet was becoming too much.

A finger slid between your cheeks, grazing over the tight entrance he had neglected to fill earlier. Your hips pushed back of their own accord and he smiled against your mouth as he massaged your entrance with a few quick circles before sliding the tip of a rough finger inside of you. A quiet sigh left you before he whispered, "So tight for me, Love. Always so tight for me, yeah?" You nodded vigorously in answer, his mouth a hair's breadth away from yours. He was done pampering you though it seemed as his whispers turned into a quiet growl, "I asked you a question, don't make me repeat it." Oh yeah, you'd forgotten about that. He liked to hear you, your quiet nods weren't going to cut it this time around.

Tilting your head forward to press your forehead to his, your answer danced over his skin, "Always for you. Only ever for you, Angel," he went still the second the word fell from your mouth and you felt your heart stop just as suddenly. You'd messed up. Ah shit, why in the hell did you say that? That's not what he wanted to hear, that was absolutely the last thing he wanted to hear. Always, how do you always do this, Speck? You always fu-

His mouth surged forward eagerly, tying the two of you into another kiss. Passionate and not only wanting but needing to feel your sincerity, your warmth. His tongue slid against yours, the hairs of his mustache scratching against your upper lip and nose, though by now after more than a few days of growth on your face you knew your own beard was beginning to return the favor. Especially when you felt him twitch his nose at the sensation. When he pulled away taking in deep breaths you caught a bright smile as he ducked his head, pressing his whole body forward to bury his red face against your skin.

A laugh fell out of him and you felt his face burning with heat against your neck, his lips pressing into your skin. Finally you asked, "What?" He just let out another light chuckle and shook his head against you, his arms locking you in place against him. Lips suckled at your neck greedily even as your own face heated up with embarrassment. "What's wrong John? What did I do? I'm-I'm sorry I didn't mean-" The brunette pulled back watching you with those still squinted and smiling eyes as he shook his head at you. Stopping your thoughts with another, shorter kiss.

When he pulled away he was still smiling when he managed an answer, "Nothing's wrong, sweetheart." His eyes fell and you saw his beard twitching as he fought to control some kind of reaction. Finally he turned those impossibly blue hues back up to you still smiling wider than you'd ever seen from him, "Can you call me that again?" Your head tilted in confusion as you watched his nearly giddy face.

What did he mean? Was he talking about, "Angel?" His eyes closed as you said the word before he was ducking his red face again, burying his face in your shoulder as he rolled the two of you until you were pressed underneath his weight. "Oh you like being called Angel then, Captain?" You felt him laugh lightly against the slick skin of your shoulder before he nodded. "Alright then, noted, Angel," you felt him shift as he pushed up on his elbows again. His hands grabbed at your cheeks as he stared down at you, like he was investigating the depths of your very soul. God he always brought some new level of intimacy that made you feel…special.

Intent, searching, entranced, captivated, you didn’t know what you were but you knew you liked it. You simply couldn't move, either of you. Watching one another as his thumbs ran over your cheekbones, mapping them out with the rough pads of his fingertips. Your fingers found his sides, running over the muscle between every rib and down to his hips, fingering the waistband of his underwear. The little smile that slowly formed on his face was mirrored by your own. He leaned down slowly, nose bumping into yours as his mouth teased barely an inch above your own. God he was always such a tease.

John needed to get on with this. You were getting impatient now and there was no telling how long you'd be able to keep yourself from absolutely begging for him. "Hey," his head tilted in response, inviting you to continue, "When are you gonna fuck me, Angel?" His tongue slid out of his mouth, running along his lips as he wet them and then his smile turned into a knowing smirk. His clothed hips grinded down into your own naked ones, drawing out a half lidded sigh of pleasure at the friction before his hand was reaching for the bedside table.

Those burning blue depths never left yours as he searched for the bottle he was looking for. Finally finding his query he sat back on his heels, affording you the sight of his glistening body slicked with sweat just as your own was. Your legs were framing his thighs and kept you from closing your legs as he gathered some lube on his fingers. When his fingers disappeared out of your sight you tensed up. It was something you couldn’t stop but he didn’t even seem to notice. The tips of his fingers grazed over your skin, sliding smoothly over the tight ring of muscle as he massaged at your entrance.

As your body relaxed he slowly pushed his finger inside you, earning him a low moan from you at the delicious feel of his digit dragging along your walls. Your cock jumped as you clenched around his intrusion and he smirked at the sight. Pulling his finger out he added a second, slowly working them inside you and scissoring diligently. When he added more lube and curled his fingers up he pressed against your prostate. You gasped at the sensation, abdomen tightening instinctively and your hand reaching for his forearm.

You leaned forward as you tried to sit up and reach for him but he stopped you before you could. John leaned down over you and pushed you back down into the mattress, his mouth finding yours as he continued to run his fingers over the sensitive nerves. Relentless in his desire to hear your quiet moans and needy whines. When his pace began to quicken and he added a third finger, your mouth opened in a silent plea for more, for him.

"Shh, Love," he whispered against your mouth as he leaned down over you. You sucked your bottom lip in-between your teeth in response, muffling the next moan as his fingers spread you again. Your hands groped blindly for him, finding his chest first and then his sides as you worked your way down, fingers ghosting over the scarred skin of his hip. Slowly you pushed at the waistband of his underwear, wanting to see him. To touch him. To feel the weight of him in your hand and for the love of God you needed him inside you.

A whine left you when his fingers slid out and you whispered, “No, please, I need more.” Your eyes were still half lidded tiredly as he reached a hand down to shove the waistband of his underwear down just enough to free his cock. The weight laid against your own erection as he thrusted slowly a couple times across your sensitive skin. Nevermind, you could wait, you could be patient. Precome dripped into the soft hair on your stomach, leaving a wet trail across your skin. Please good lord just get on with it, John. His head tilted and for a moment you wondered if he could read your mind.

Slowly you felt him sit back on his heels to guide himself down, the blunt tip running over your entrance slowly. You couldn't help but grind down towards him and he let out a light hiss of air as he felt your entrance graze over the tip of his member. Need had wrecked this man after denying himself the first time he'd woken you up. You doubted he would last long this morning. Especially with how hungrily his gaze was watching the way you opened around him as the tip pushed inside. The slight burn made you smile up at him lazily. He stopped as his head slid in and he let out a hard breath before looking up at your eyes.

That look, you recognized that look. You'd only ever seen it on him once before, all those months ago when he had laid you down in his bed and rewritten the entire makeup of your being. When he had gotten you addicted to him in not only just the way he felt seated fully inside you but how amazing he smelled even when he was sweaty and musky and the room smelled of sex. How his eyes burned every inch of skin they landed on. How his smile seemed to light up every neuron in your mind with something you had never even felt before. How his kisses and lightly suckling mouth soothed those scalding patches of flesh left behind by his scratchy beard. Christ the beard.

His hips jerked forward suddenly and you let out a loud groan that was bordering on a near scream. Ecstasy ran through every limb though as he hooked your legs up and over his shoulders before his hips drug backwards slowly. Oh no, not this. There was no way you could stand the slow yet heart racing fuck you knew he could provide, that he would provide. But God you'd missed this you had to admit. This is what had gotten you hooked on him that night. The rough fucks were good yeah but this…this was beyond perfection.

The slow rhythm was already driving you to the edge. No, not yet, too soon. Your stomach tensed, flexing hard and you saw his hand shoot down to the base of your length. A firm squeeze at the base as he stilled and your breaths were coming back in harsh gasp. "Not yet, Love. Let me have some fun with you, yeah?" You barely managed a nod and another breathy moan as his hand unwrapped from your length and ran across your lower stomach. Another deep, slow thrust and he was leaning down over you again.

John folded you in half, legs still hooked over each shoulder as he braced himself on his hands over the top of you. Suddenly his hips slammed flush with yours. His pace stayed agonizingly slow but every time he was about to thrust inside you his hips jolted forward striking home brutally. God he felt so big like this, the burn edging on the line between pain and pleasure. You could feel him brushing against your prostate with just about every stroke with those perfectly aimed thrusts of his and you knew this was going to be the end of you. He was too much, this man was going to burn you up body, mind, and soul.

How were you supposed to keep from cumming when he just kept doing- “Oh fuck,” you groaned as he grinded hard against your hips, pushing you up the bed and almost causing you to hit your head on the wall. “Please, I can’t wait-” he cut you off with a sloppily placed kiss as he resumed his brutal strikes deep within you. You were moaning into his mouth and his throat was producing the same damn noises. John was just as far gone as you always were. Just as close and just as ready.

The man above you was exploring your mouth with his tongue between desperate gasps for air. Your bodies were working together to reach a common goal. Pure fucking bliss. Every breath was in sync, every time you grinded your own hips towards him he was thrusting his own forward with a hard strike. He bottomed out and his face fell forward by yours, his mouth right against your ear as he whispered, “Cum for me, Love.” One of his hands dropped your leg and then found your length, pumping over your sensitive cock in time with every thrust. “Cum now,” your eyes shut tight at the words and instantly your body responded to his demand.

Pressure that had built up released like a snap of a rubber band. You painted both of your stomachs, abdomen tightening and chest heaving as the waves crashed over you. His thrusts never stopped, never even faltered as he fucked you through your high. The man didn’t even stop his hand stroking your cock, not until you groaned out and your eyes began to water. Your fingers reached desperately for his wrist and stopped his hand that was pumping quickly now.

His hand braced on the wall just behind your head then as he buried himself as deep as he could inside you and you felt his thrusts beginning to falter. When you opened your eyes he was already watching you with his mouth hanging open, his face red as he panted. You felt the twitch of his cock inside you, felt his pulse, and you didn’t need to see the need in his eyes to know it was there. He pulled out again and then slammed home, his hips moving faster as he chased his high.

Pulling him down to you, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips that he tried to return but he merely groaned against your mouth barely a moment later. As you pressed another kiss against the line of his jaw following it up to his ear, burying his face against your neck before he started to suckle at the skin of your neck. Your breath fell out against the shell of his ear with one hand against the back of his head and the other against the swell of his ass. He was moaning into your neck now with need and you felt him falter again as you hooked your free leg behind him and helped to guide him inside you.

A low whisper came out of your mouth against the skin of his ear, “Cum for me, Angel. Let me see the face you make,” you pulled his face back out of your neck, hands cupping his cheeks as you watched his eyes close and the veins of his neck pop as he clenched nearly every muscle in his body. Then you felt the warm spray against your walls as he emptied inside of you, his mouth opening in a quiet groan.

His voice let out a quiet whimper as he rutted up into you in shallow thrusts riding himself through his orgasm as you still helped to guide him with the leg currently wrapped around him and the fingers digging into the flesh of his ass. When you clenched around him he hissed aloud and his head tipped forward, burying his face in your neck. Rough teeth scraped against your bare skin as he tried to come down from the intense high currently coursing through him. His chest still heaving against you and his breath coming in hard pants against your skin.

He released your thigh that he still had hitched up around his shoulder and it fell stiffly back to the bed as your muscles unwound from the tension of being folded up like a lawn chair. You’d never known you were so flexible until you’d met John. Your body would have done anything he asked of it, you were certain.

When he slid out of you it was obscene the mess you could feel dripping out of your used hole. Not another soul alive could make you do the things he had. Hell not a soul alive had ever removed you so completely of inhibitions and made you want to do what you did with him. Your hands were running through the hairs at the back of his head with gentle fingers as you whispered quietly to him.

For once it was him on the brink of consciousness and not you. John was completely out of it with his body laid out across yours and suffocating you in the growing heat of the room. The man was working completely off of instinct at this point it felt like. You couldn’t have cared less though. It was John on top of you. It was John who was currently breathing heavily in your ear and kissing at the sensitive spot just behind it while you whispered words dripping like honey in his ear.

His hips still were rutting into the mattress as if he was already trying to get ready for another round even though you could tell that he was well and truly fucked out right now. “It’s ok, Angel, I’ve got you,” your hands trailed down his back lightly and he sighed against your skin. The tip of his nose grazed over the side of your throat. You could tell he was starting to finally come back to himself when his mouth turned up in a smile against your neck.

Slowly his arms wrapped around your back rolling you over to your side as he settled back on the mattress and tucked you into his side. There was a satisfied smile that turned up the corners of his mouth, his entire face seemingly lit up in the blissful post-orgasmic haze he was currently in. You watched him while his eyes were closed, his thumb running over the curve of your shoulder and as he did you felt the beginnings of your own smile spreading over your face, just as warmth spread through you that wasn’t just the growing heat of the room.

Your hand splayed across the expanse of his chest just in front of your face as you played your fingers through the soft, dark hairs there. A deep hum resonated through him at the touch and you felt him shift against you before he propped his head up with one hand behind his head. The silence in the room was peaceful, just as the natural light coming in through the window was.

A scene from a storybook, that’s what the two of you were. Your bodies were still slick with sweat while you were naked laying against his own barely clothed form. Hell he still hadn’t even tucked himself away yet, the waistband of his underwear just barely pushed down his thighs and over the curve of his ass. Slowly your hand went still against his skin and your eyelids grew heavier as you lapsed into another light nap.

Light streamed into the already semi-lit room pulling you out of the short rest you’d been allotted. Then a familiar Scottish voice broke through the barrier of yours and John’s privacy, jolting you out of the peaceful moment you’d just been sharing, "Price wake up we have a problem. No one can find-" A scream echoed around the bunkhouse as both your gaze and John's flew to the now open door and the dark-haired man currently staring wide eyed in horror and shock a few steps inside of it.

In an instant the brunette beside you was cursing wildly at the Scotsman and pulling his underwear back up into place before he scrambled for the sheets tangled at the bottom of the bed. “What the- Soap what in the fuck are you!?” John was immediately yelling at the young man. In response you rolled to your stomach and shot a quick look in the Scotsman’s direction. The sheets pulled up around your body as John scrambled to cover your naked body for you. All it really did though was tangle around your legs and just barely cover the curve of your backside and the absolute mess that the Brit had made there.

"Johnny!" A worried voice came from just outside the door right before Ghost barreled into the room as well with Ceberus at his side with his lead clipped onto his collar. Oh good Lord it just keeps getting better and better huh? Even from here you could see the Lieutenant's blank and blinking stare as he began to process the scene before him. Well at least until Soap's hand shot up to cover those hazel eyes in an attempt to maintain Ghost’s innocence. Now what innocence that man possessed was a mystery to you, you’d heard what they said to each other while they were doing the same damn thing you and John had just been doing. And it was a lot worse than what you and your Brit said in bed.

Just as quickly as Soap’s hand shot to cover his eyes, you watched a black glove with a skeleton pattern settle in front of Cerberus' eyes even as the dog attempted to move towards you. “Steamin’ Jesus mate, yer geein’ me the boak,” the Scotsman made a gagging noise and tried to force his eyes away but something seemed to occur to him just when he did. Soap blinked between both of you as his eyes trailed down your flesh and stopped where the sheets were just barely covering you.

Suddenly the man gasped in shock as his eyes widened and his mouth opened wide, "That's it! I remember ya now!" You glanced at his pointing finger, almost looking like there was an accusation in his gaze. What the hell was he talking about? Price’s eyes shot to you nervously as he slid to the edge of the bed.

"Get out!" John’s voice was higher in pitch than you’d ever heard before while Soap was still pointing and shaking his head. The man wasn’t listening to a damn word anyone else was saying. His attention focused completely on you. While you were currently laying naked in the Captain’s bed with only a sheet between their prying eyes and the evidence of what had transpired a few minutes ago.

Ghost peeked around the hand still in front of his eyes and you saw the glare at your naked form even from here, "How the fuck do you know him?" Narrowed eyes shot to the Scotsman then almost with an accusation in them. You couldn’t really blame the Lieutenant, it was weird that it’d taken any of them this long to actually remember you from the bar. It was especially weird that it took you getting naked and absolutely wrecked for someone to finally figure it out though. However Soap was in full detective mode now and he was none the wiser to the angry look coming from the big man behind him or the waves of frustration currently pouring off of his Captain.

He started forward towards the both of you as John scooted up the bed blocking Soap’s view of your face with his almost naked form. "That was you,” he was near shouting at this point as his mind worked and he clarified, “At the bar! The one Price was always watching and whining about. Ye remember Lt," the Scotsman glanced back to gesture between you and Price before returning his gaze to you. "When he was blootert, man would always go on about how he wanted ta fu-" Before the Scot could finish the sentence the pillow you’d been laying on flew out from under your head and into his face, smacking him with a loud thwack!

Soap recoiled from the hit before finding his Captain’s gaze and the dark anger that had settled there. "I said get the fuck out Sergeant," his voice was dangerously low. His eyes turned to Ghost next, "You too Lieutenant, get out of here. Now." Blue eyes flared with nervousness as he watched his Captain before taking a couple steps back to stand beside Ghost again.

The Scotsman glanced your way, just barely catching your eyes around John’s tense form. Just before the Lieutenant, who you could have sworn was smirking underneath that mask, asked, “You want the dog back?” Price was on his feet in a moment as the two started to take off. You watched as they shoved one another towards the door in their haste, dragging your poor dog along behind them.

Price leaned down to grab the pillow off the floor, his eyes shooting up to the two again as Soap stated, “Ya know Cap, good on ya, mate. You’ve been needing a goo-” The big man grabbed the Sergeant’s arm as he jerked him out of the way of another thrown pillow. Soap disappeared around the frame of the door, his loud cackles audible even from where you were still laying in bed.

John stalked towards the door, leaning his head out to yell after them, “Stay out of my bloody room!” The door slammed shut in front of him and you watched as his chin tilted down to let his forehead rest against the smooth wood, shaking his head slowly. You threw the sheets off of you now that the two intruders were gone and slid to the edge of the bed. Standing up you made your way over to him, your brows furrowing with worry when he didn’t turn around to meet you. It was almost as if he was trying to calm himself down after being caught in bed with you.

Slowly your arms wrapped around his torso, your chin resting on his tense shoulder, the sound of your beard scratching against his skin audible and making you file away a quick note that you needed to shave. The second you touched him though it was like his tension began to melt away with your warmth flooding into him. Your fingers interlocked over his stomach, pulling him backwards against you as he let himself go for a moment. Accepting your quietly comforting gestures.

It was a foreign feeling this. There’d never been anyone you had willingly wanted to comfort before. Sure you’d played your role, and you had played it well in times when you had needed to. Like when your ex-wife’s grandmother had passed and she’d needed a shoulder to cry on. This though, it wasn’t anything you felt like you had to do. It wasn’t like you knew John would scream and slap and claw at your heart and skin for not doing it. Hell he probably didn’t even expect it from you with how closed off you typically were around others.

This was something you wanted to do, and not just for yourself but for him. You raised up on the balls of your feet and turned your face to press a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back flat on the floor, your chin still resting comfortably on the apex of his shoulder. Watching the side of his face you saw his chin finally lift again before he turned to find your gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think they’d go looking for you so fast. I thought we had more time this morning." His typically upturned features were shrouded in something you couldn't quite pinpoint. The corners of his mouth turned down, the usual crinkle at the corners of his eyes had disappeared.

Your hands released him before you turned him around to study his face carefully. "Don't be sorry, Angel," you whispered with a good natured smile that for once wasn't brought about by some instinctual need for politeness or some kind of joke. It was genuine. And God it felt so fucking good. Reaching for his face your fingers ran through his beard and your palm cupped his cheek before your smile widened and you tacked on, “Not your fault they don’t know how to knock.”

There was a humorous snort from the man before he shook his head again and leaned his face into your touch. “They never learn. Trust me, Love, they never learn.” You sighed at that and then gave him a knowing nod, that was something you understood well. Slowly your arms wrapped around his waist, pressing him backwards into the door as you buried your face into his neck. His arms wrapped around your neck, his cheek scratching against your shoulder as he laid his face on it. Taking in a deep breath you let the smell of him coat your senses, floating out to sea on the wind of subtle cigar smoke and rich oaks.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Not me writing this whole chapter while watching Bob Ross. Oh boy I hope y'all are ready.

Also look at this beautiful piece of art @czigonas was kind enough to make for Corporal Wade! He's so tired! I love it so much!

Part 8

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 20k

Synopsis: Angry price, unhinged Speck/Reader, hurt and comfort, there is a lot of Speck lore being dropped in this chapter honestly

Warnings: Lots of past traumas and panic inbound

The rumbling purr of the van cut off abruptly as your eyes shot open to take in the sight of the men around you already standing up and collecting their gear. Hell even the woman and little boy that y'all had taken from the warehouse were standing up and following close behind the Lieutenant. Everyone moved towards the back doors, all except for you and John, who was sitting perfectly still after you'd fallen over onto his shoulder in the cramped space of the cubby.

Oh shit, you shifted over quickly with wide eyes, rubbing tiredly at your dry eyes as you sat up. When you glanced to your right John was already moving, grabbing his rifle and the vest he'd shed at some point when you'd fallen asleep, not even bothering to look at you. Everyone else had shed their gear as well while you were out cold. You pushed yourself up and unclipped the buckles on your vest as the other men stopped at the back doors waiting for them to unlock. Well all of them except for Watcher who had hopped out of the front.

When the door locks clicked and before anyone could scramble away John spoke loudly, "Debrief at 0800 tomorrow morning, don't be late. And don't make me come hunt you down. You have the rest of the evening to yourselves, spend it wisely, yeah?" His eyes glanced around the men until he got nods from everyone. Though those blue hues never even shifted to you, running right over you like you weren't even there. It made your chest hurt, but it was understandable. Why would he want to look at you? The man couldn't even spend an evening with you without kicking you to the curb. Was this coldness all that surprising?

No, no it wasn't. You definitely deserved it after putting him through yet another moment where he thought he was going to be responsible for your death. Hell you knew all too much about that dreaded responsibility yourself. As the others filed out of the van though John's hand pressed against your chest to stop you from hopping down after them.

His voice growled out then, "Not you," you shot him a quick glance. He still wasn't looking at you, instead he was staring ahead at the group of men and the two newest additions to the growing list of prisoners they were acquiring. Ghost stopped to glance back before John said quickly, "Laswell's waiting for them. Take them to her," the big man nodded and you watched as he led them off towards the main building of the base.

Tension held you in place. Afraid to move for fear you would upset the stillness that seemed to have taken hold of him. When his hand shoved you backwards and he pulled the back doors closed you instinctively caught hold of the handle on Cerberus' vest. The dog sent a dangerous growl up to John but you were quick to quiet him with a, "Pfui." You unclipped his lead, glancing up at the Brit for a moment before you suggested, "Might want to have this altercation away from the dog, John." He barely even glanced down at the Dutchie before his hand was in the strap of your vest and he pushed you back into the small cubby, the false wall latching closed behind him. A whine slid past the panel as Cerberus tried to claw his way inside before you said, "Nein, Cerberus. Platz," a quick pause before continuing, "Bleib."

John was staring down at you now, hand still wrapped around the strap of your vest and you could feel his grip tightening around it. You could see his mind working behind those bright blue eyes as he tried to control himself. His dark beard twitched as his jaw tensed, fighting some kind of internal battle. "What were you thinking? Really." Your brows furrowed at his question. You'd already told him once, besides what did that even mean? "Not some heat of the moment shite we yell at each other because the rest of the team are watching. What was really going through your head, Speck?" Nothing. Everything. How did you even explain that to him?

When you remained silent he only seemed to grow more impatient. Obviously he wanted an answer, and he wanted it now. What were you supposed to say though? What answer did this man in front of you even want? "What was going through your head when you tried to defuse a bomb with local law enforcement on a quick response time to that site? They could have killed you, did that not occur to you? They would have killed you if it weren't for the trackers Watcher has on all of us." Well at least it made sense now how they'd found you in the middle of the city.

Slowly your shoulders lifted in a simple shrug and the man before you laughed cynically. His fist felt almost like it was punching your shoulder as he pushed off of it and stepped back away from you in the small space. It was obvious that was certainly not the answer he was wanting from you. You could hear his internal thoughts now, ‘Seriously Speck? That’s the best you’ve got?’ In truth that was probably where you should have stopped, just let him come up with his own answer, let him think whatever he wanted.

What you said next was definitely not anything better, "Nothing really, John. I saw the bomb. I knew there were a lot of people. I knew that yall were still inside the building and that there were children and mothers inside as well. Hell there were people just out walking on the street below." His eyes were searching yours for sincerity, and when he found it he only seemed to grow more upset. That wasn’t the reaction you had expected to find in his eyes. "I didn't want their blood on my hands too, John. Yalls blood either. So I did what I could. I couldn’t take that guilt again." He shook his head at you, his hand coming up to run over his mouth as he thought to himself.

The man in front of you glanced down at the floor before his eyes shut, head beginning to slowly shake as he smiled with cynicism clear in his expression. "So you see a bomb and not a bloody thing goes through your head?" Your shoulders shrugged again with an added shake of your head before you glanced towards the wall. You couldn't keep looking at him, not while he was leveling that disappointment or whatever the hell it was at you.

"Fucking hell, Speck," he was getting angry again as his hands reached up to latch onto the straps of his own vest probably so he didn’t end up throttling you. John obviously wanted you to say something else but what was there to say? You had made the decision to stay behind. To put your own life in danger to help those who would have probably died otherwise and never even known they were in danger. You’d made the right decision and you knew it, whether John wanted to admit that or not didn’t matter.

He reached up and jerked the bandana off from around his neck, wiping away the sweat that was currently beading up on his forehead. John stared at you in the growing stuffiness of the cargo van. There was exasperation growing in his eyes now, he so desperately wanted you to communicate. To tell him why you had done what you'd done. Hadn't you though? You didn't want people to die. In order to keep people from dying the bomb had to be disarmed. So you, in all your brilliance might you add, had done just that. End of story.

Apparently that wasn't how John felt though. You couldn't tell if it was frustration, annoyance, or just plain rage that was blossoming on his face, probably all of the above. However you did know that annoyance was beginning to bubble up inside of you. Why did he care so much anyway? It wasn't like you'd put him in danger, or his team.

Hell, you'd specifically made sure they'd all gotten out of there, was that not good enough for him? The words spilled out of your mouth before you could even stop them, "Why do you care so much, huh? I didn't put your team in danger, yall got out of the building, I don't see the problem, John." Blue eyes widened at you incredulously before another laugh fell out of him much like the one you'd gotten when he'd interrogated you.

His fists clenched, using the balled up bandana almost like a stress ball to keep himself steady despite the obvious desire he had to blow the hell up at you. The next words he spoke came out in a low growl, "You are a part of my team right now whether you think you do or not. When we're in the field whatever we're doing off of it doesn't matter." Your eyes were glued to the wall again in less than a moment, unable to find his burning blues. Well more like you didn't want to find his eyes. Those words were bringing back too much that you hadn’t dealt with in too long.

Memories rattled around in your mind. This was by far not the first time you'd been yelled at by someone, reprimanded by a superior and verbally reamed, but it had been over eight years since then. Eight years since you’d become Bravo One on your team and then two years since you’d left said teams. God you were getting old now. So no this was not the first time someone had made it their mission to ruin your day.

However, it was one of the first times you'd ever felt like it was personal. Like if it had been Soap that had stayed behind he would have given him a slap on the wrist about disobeying orders and then all would have been fine. Your face was hot with both anger and embarrassment, it was like you were being singled out and you didn’t appreciate being singled out. And unlike when your ex-wife had cursed, screamed, and hit this time it truly started to hit home and hard.

John's hand wrapped around the strap of your vest again in the blink of an eye, jostling you out of your thoughts and dragging your attention back to him. You blinked a couple times as you settled your gaze on his chest. He was closer than he had been a few moments ago. When did he get so close? "Speck?" Your gaze shot up to find him and you noticed the anger that was mostly dissipated now. When had he started to let it go? "Please just talk to me." No.

Your eyes dropped again as you looked away and you heard him sigh from above you. His fingers tightened around the strap of your vest as you muttered, "I don't have anything to say, Captain." You could feel the waves of frustration coming off of him again, and you didn't need to see his eyes to know he was starting to get worked up once more.

Before he was back to the point of being ready to smack you upside the head again he let you go, stepping away and moving towards the latch of the false wall and flipped it up. "Fine," his head shook as he unlatched it and pushed it open. "Don't talk then. Just be at the debriefing at 0800 tomorrow morning. And don't be late." His hand shot out grabbing the rifle from your hand, his glare fixed on you, dark and swirling in those blue pools.

For the first time since you got yourself stuck in here with him you fixed him with that rebellious look. That was before he jerked the pistol out of your thigh holster as well and you looked down at the weapons in his hands, “Go back to your bunk. I don’t want to see you wandering around base tonight,” he growled and then he was gone before you could say anything else. Heading for the cages and the armory so he could drop his things off. Even as he walked away you felt the full force of your fuck up due to your fuck it attitude.

It was that gut-wrenching feeling of knowing when everything had gone so, so very wrong that was currently making you feel like you were going to be sick to your stomach. Cerberus was at your feet again, his nose pressing up into your palm. You were frozen though, you didn't even feel the cold, wetness of it, not until John had disappeared around the corner finally. "Fuck," you muttered to yourself. Eyes shutting for a moment as you forced your racing heart to calm down.

This was your problem. The reason you couldn't allow yourself to get this close. The pain in your stomach and chest was nearly unbearable. You felt too much and you felt too hard, you kept that shit locked up so you didn’t have to deal with it. Not a soul ever deserved to be on the receiving end of that man's disappointment, his frustration. And unlike when your ex-wife had tried to do the same things, to make you feel the same ways, this time you actually cared. It wasn’t just exhaustion flooding you this time around.

This time it hurt more than anything she ever could have tried to manage and John hadn't even had to hit you. He hadn't even had to scream at you for hours and wear you down so completely you were flinching just at the mere thought of someone speaking to you. John had managed to make you feel this simply by being worried about you. Upset that you couldn't bring yourself to tell him about the team you'd lost in nearly the exact same way. About the eight brothers you had lost on that terrible day. The man didn’t even know what he was asking you about and he hit straight at the weakest parts of you.

A sigh left you, Cerberus responded with a quiet whine before you clipped his lead back on and hopped down out of the van. Maybe that last order was just best to follow, huh? It was better than going back to the cages and seeing that disappointment again, watching him react to yet another disobeyed order. ‘I don’t want to see you,’ he’d said. You’d really fucked this one up, and even you could see that.

Just get back to the bunkhouse and sleep all of this shit off, maybe he’d just forget about it by the time the debriefing rolled around tomorrow. “No chance in hell,” you muttered to yourself, that man certainly didn’t seem like the type to forget. He felt more like the type to keep it filed away for a later date when he was ready to deal with it, deal with you. Another sigh left you as you opened the door and stepped inside the room. The bunkhouse was empty. Ghost was still out doing what the Captain had told him to…and Soap probably.

You were quick to let Cerberus off his lead before throwing it up on the table, watching the dog immediately start nudging at the bag of food with his nose. The sigh left you but it wasn’t meant for him, your mind was still rattling around with his expressions, his words. It was driving the very air from your lungs and you had no idea how to even deal with it. No one had ever prepared you for feeling like this. “I know buddy,” you mumbled to him as you opened the bag of food and shoved the bowl inside to scoop some in. When you sat it down at the foot of the bed he dug into his meal.

It’d been a full day since he’d had anything to eat so it wasn’t all that surprising he was so hungry. Hell you should have been hungry too but you were the farthest from it right now. For the first time in a long time your stomach wasn’t growling with need. Your stomach was churning with bile as you sat on the edge of the bed. You swallowed hard and then shoved the sick feeling down in your mind, and took in a few deep breaths trying to settle your thoughts as well.

Pain ached in your limbs and you wished you could say that it was because of the long ass mission you’d just suffered through but it wasn’t the typical muscle aches you were used to. Your skin hurt, pulsed with shots of pain with every wave of emotion that you forced down as it lapped at the shores of your mind. It was something you’d never experienced before. A strange sensation, almost like a physical reaction to the dread in your mind since you refused to let yourself acknowledge it.

Your hands lifted to run through the hair on the side of your head, fingers massaging at your temples for a few moments. Just don’t think about it. Everything will be ok. He’ll forget about it. Maybe. Unlikely. He’s never going to forget about it, idiot. You breathed out another sigh as you stood and pulled your vest off, throwing it into the corner near your duffel. The thigh holster, small pouch that still held the flashbangs and grenades, your ear protection, helmet, and shooting glasses soon followed as you piled the gear in the small space between the wall and the foot of your bed. You’d have to make sure to take it back to Wade tomorrow before he came hunting it down, no need to make him more worried.

Pulling the shirt over your head you tossed it next to the gear. Wade still hadn’t brought the hamper he promised so to the floor it went. You sat on the edge of the bed to unlace your boots hurriedly, kicking them backwards under the gap of the bed. Then you stood again, shucking off the pants and tossed them over with the shirt onto the floor. You didn’t bother with any of the clothes you’d been given. The sooner you went to sleep the sooner this nightmare would end.

But even as you pulled the sheet up to your hip you stared stubbornly at the ceiling. The moon was casting a white glow inside the room with night in full swing. Normally you’d have been able to get to sleep in a matter of seconds, but right now your mind was working overtime in order to keep you stubbornly awake and aware of every little thing moving around you.

Cerberus was laying on his side just beside the bed and you could hear him breathing but he wasn’t yet asleep. Glancing over the side you watched as he lifted his head to look at you before you slid back on the bed and muttered, “Hier, Cerberus.” The Dutchie pushed himself up with a huff of air, like a child who’d just been disturbed in the middle of doing something.

And still he was in the bed with you in the next few seconds. Cerberus circled a few times in front of you before he plopped down heavily on his side and his head found the pillow. Your arms wrapped around the warm torso before you adjusted the sheet over him as well. Sliding forward you buried your face in between his shoulder blades to block out the light from the window. Still it did nothing to help you find your way into the blissful world of dreams.

Thoughts kicked up in your mind like a car stuck in the mud. Messy, loud, and refusing to budge with every fiber of their being. You were so lost to the memories you nearly missed the sound of the door opening. Cerberus’ head lifted off the pillow looking at whoever it was and your arms tightened their hold around him instinctively. The urge to lift up and see who it was found you, but as you went to move your exhausted body it changed that desire quickly. Instead you just pressed your body harder into the warmth in front of you, keeping your eyes closed in hopes that sleep would find its footing at some point.

Needless to say, it didn’t. You listened to Ghost’s quiet movements around the room. Heard him stripping out of his clothes, and laying down on his bed. He didn’t fall asleep for a long time but when he did you could hear his deep breaths. It reminded you of Cerberus’ light snores; it was so soft and almost not even there, but you heard it, it was there. When the Dutchie fell asleep beside you as well you knew the night was going to be a long and absolutely terrible one.

------(Price POV)------

He didn’t look up as he threw his gear into the cage, shoving the rifle and pistol he’d given to Speck for the op into Wade’s chest as he stormed by. “You’ll get the rest from him tomorrow,” he grumbled. The sound that came from the blonde man sounded enough like a huff of annoyance that John immediately stopped in his tracks. His angry gaze was on the supply officer in less than a heartbeat. “Is there a problem, Corporal Wade?” The blonde tensed up in a moment as he held the weapons close to his chest.

His light blue eyes shot around the room in search of help or maybe an answer as to why the Captain was so short tempered. Not a soul dared to even meet his eyes though. John took a step closer, standing taller as his head tilted in that way that everyone knew meant to shut the hell up and just do what he said. The blonde shook his head slowly as he averted his eyes from the brunette, “No sir, Captain. Apologies sir,” Price’s jaw twitched as he watched the Corporal take a quick step back and about face before basically running to disappear through the armory door.

The Captain watched him go with a dark look, standing in place until the door had shut behind him. A second longer of staring and he pulled open the door of his cage with a shake of his head. He organized his gear back into their respective bins, his guns going into their cases before he closed them up. It took him all of five minutes to put his things away, in more of a rush to get out of there than anyone had ever seen him in before. Frustration and anger still pulsed in the back of his mind from his talk with that bloody American.

Normally he would have stuck around to clean everything but with his jaw working overtime, the muscle sore and yet still tensed, he knew he needed to get away. He headed straight across the base. Fuck the mess hall, fuck a shower, fuck changing clothes. Price needed a cigar, a bourbon, and some nice peace and fuckin quiet to chill the fuck out before he actually ended up hurting someone.

The squad room was dark and quiet as he entered, but he didn’t bother with the lightswitch. Just stepped around the couch like it was instinct and opened the door to his office. He clicked the lock into place on his door before he sat down in his chair behind his desk. The computer screen lit up in front of him, he must have forgotten to turn it off before he left his office last time.

Sitting his phone on top of the desk he grumbled, “Hey siri.” He paused to wait for the ding before continuing with, “Play my fuckin music.” As Price instructed the phone he opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle and a glass. Twisting the top off he poured himself a glass, listening as the music started up. ‘My Girl’ played softly from the speaker, and he tipped the glass back and downed the first glass in one go.

John took a deep breath as he set the glass back down, hands gripping into the arm rests of the chair for a few moments as he steadied himself. Your words played over in his head on repeat, ‘I don’t have anything to say, Captain.’ Nothing? Not a bloody thing? He’d wanted to shout at you. To shake you like that would pry the answer out of your stubborn fucking mouth.

It wouldn’t though. He knew it would only make things worse. It would take more than just shaking you to pry the information he wanted to know out of you. It would only serve to make you want to close off more. But he was patient and he was just as stubborn as you, he’d get it eventually. Besides who in their right mind would answer a man yelling bloody murder in their face? It was the way you’d looked at him though that had nearly set him off. Like it was a secret worth your life or something. A shake of his head and he was pouring another glass, that one disappearing just as fast as the first.

Finally the alcohol felt like it was working its magic on his mind. He poured another glass and set the bottle down on the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried not to think about you. How you’d looked away from him when all he so desperately wanted was to know why you seemed so off. You weren’t fidgety, and you’d still been pleasant enough before the mission. But it was like you had been in another place from the second you’d stepped in to see the team’s cages.

The way you’d stood in the center of the room still played over in his mind. He should have scrubbed you from the mission the second his instincts started telling him something was off with you. Should have scrubbed the whole fuckin mission and just put surveillance on the place. He picked up the glass of bourbon and took a slow sip and another few deep breaths. The music filled the room, floating around in his mind and working to calm him down like he was trained to come down to it. Technically he was after years of using it to relax.

Christ he couldn’t forget the dread though the moment he had seen Soap come out of that building and you weren’t with him. He’d hid it the best he could on his face but when the Sergeant had said you’d stayed behind to defuse the bomb he had nearly lost his mind. John had just gotten you back after eight months and the thought of losing you because he let you go out on your own with Soap as your partner would have eaten at him for the rest of his life.

A deep sigh and he pulled open another drawer, taking out a small wooden box as he opened it. He pulled out one of the thick brown cigars, smelling it with a deep breath before he nodded to himself. Standing up he moved to the window in the far corner, unlocking it before he opened it and headed back to his seat.

Price prepped the cigar with surprising speed, cutting it with a cutter he kept in the top drawer of his desk next to his lighter. Sparking the lighter he tilted the end of the cigar over it, watching the edges go cherry before he put the lighter back down. When the edges were toasted properly he lifted the cigar to his mouth, holding it with one hand and sparking the lighter with the other. He puffed a few times as he rotated the cigar in his mouth, continuing the process until the whole end was hot and glowing.

He didn’t inhale at first, careful not to extinguish the light when he tapped the ash off the tip and took quick drags from it. Until finally it was prepared properly. Finally he could enjoy it and sit back with his glass in hand and his cigar in the other. The Captain leaned back in the chair and picked up his phone as he took puffs from the cigar. Notes of dark chocolate, maple, and spice hit his senses pleasantly along with the cognac-like sweetness of it. He smiled at the taste before he propped his feet up on the desk. The second his foot touched the desk though the screen of the computer lit up again.

Blue eyes flicked to the lit up screen, he really should shut that off. He wasn’t going to be using it today anyway. With a sigh he kicked his feet off the desk again and scooted forward to shut the computer down with a few quick clicks. Before he could kick back again though his eyes caught on the file with your picture on the front. The file Laswell had given him that had your entire military career hidden inside. Everything he had elected not to find out before the mission.

John had decided he would just ask you once things calmed down. He hadn’t wanted to invade your privacy, but with how things had just gone and his own anger still lingering it felt almost imperative that he found out more about you. Almost like it was dangerous not to know, wasn’t it? Reaching for the file he slid it over the desk towards him, his finger running over the picture of your face with a hard swallow. You were younger in this image. Eyes even brighter than they were now, a cocky smile on your face. It looked like you’d probably just gotten out BUD/S and hadn’t ever even seen a covert op before.

He couldn’t help the small turn up at the corners of his mouth as he sat the glass down and put the cigar between his lips and teeth. As he sat up in the chair and pulled himself closer to the desk he steeled himself as he opened the file. The first page was just the basics, basically your ‘about me’. It listed your skills, your number of deployments, your height, weight, eye color, hair color, age, birthday, original place of residence, citizenship status, your name-

The Captain froze as he stared down at the letters. Suddenly he remembered one of the reasons he had chosen originally not to look inside. Everything in him told him to look away and yet he couldn’t. The man was in a trance-like state as he zeroed in on the line and he knew he’d never be able to forget that name. It was currently being branded into his thoughts.

Suddenly he realized he wasn’t even breathing before he inhaled a deep breath. Cigar smoke filled his lungs and it threw him into a coughing fit as he pulled it from his mouth. It took him nearly a full minute to regain his breath. He set the cigar in the ashtray as he calmed his burning lungs, shaking his head at his incompetence.

And then your file was calling his name again as he sat forward and flipped to the next page before he was zoned out again. He took a sip of the bourbon as he scanned the pages. Your criminal record which was surprisingly long, military test scores, court transcripts, mission reports. There was almost too much information on you. It was the court transcripts that really took his interest first though.

You had been arrested by the NCIS and tried for eight counts of treason, conspiracy to commit murder, and the murder itself. Eight fuckin counts? Really? That just seemed exorbitant. He read through the transcripts with quiet bewilderment. The NCIS had tried to convict you for the deaths of your entire team. Not a shred of real evidence except for the simple fact that you had survived and they hadn’t.

A railroad case if he’d ever seen one. His brunette brows furrowed as he read through the accusations that had been thrown at you. And then he saw the section where you had been put on the stand, level headedly answering every single question with the simple facts of the event. John’s head shook as he sat back in the chair with the packet of papers in his hand and began to read.

Prosecuting Attorney (PA): Master Chief I’ve got to be honest it just doesn’t seem plausible that your entire team is killed in an explosion and yet you, by some miraculous turn of events, are still alive and here with us today.

Defending Attorney (DA): Objection your honor. Where is the question?

Judge: Sustained, ask a question.

PA: Of course your honor, my apologies. So Master Chief, where were you when the explosion happened?

Master Chief (MC): I was outside of the building speaking to the child.

PA: What child Master Chief?

MC: Our HVT’s child.

PA: And where were the rest of your team Master Chief?

MC: I had directed Bravo Two to continue on into the building to detain the HVT. Bravo Four was a dog handler as well and we shared duties on missions so I sent Xena in with him to help-

The rest of your statement had been marked out, scratched from the records.

PA: So you, Master Chief, stayed outside the building and sent your men inside without a leader. Bravo One for one of the most deadly teams in the world and you make a decision that ended with the death of eight tier one operators and your very own dog. Why was that, Master Chief?

MC: I didn’t have a choice.

PA: You didn’t have a choice?

MC: No. I was the only one that the child understood. If I left him there was no way to be sure he wouldn’t have become a safety risk.

PA: So you made the decision to send a less experienced team member into the building to lead your team. And another even less experienced handler to watch your dog. You then proceeded to remain outside the target building with your HVT’s child. Is that correct?

MC: Yes sir.

There were even more lines marked out as if you had tried to explain yourself even more and they had struck that from the record as well.

PA: So then how did you end up riddled with shrapnel from the explosion, Master Chief?

MC: I heard what sounded like shouting and was moving into the building as the bomb went off. I was pinned under the building debris for an hour before a medevac arrived. I was told I was lucky to be able to still walk.

PA: Oh you can do much more than walk, isn’t that right Master Chief? You were even cleared medically to operate again two weeks ago by your doctors. So while you, the only EOD expert on your team, were sitting outside this building with a child, your men were inside securing an HVT and just before they brought him out they got killed by an explosion. That’s correct isn’t it Master Chief?

MC: Yes sir.

PA: Is it not also correct that you were seen at a local bar two days before this incident with a known terrorist?

MC: No sir.

PA: No?

MC: No sir. I was at the bar, yes, but so were the rest of my team and nearly a hundred other people that night. It was the only bar in range of our base at the time of deployment. It’s not surprising there were other people there, sir. It was a popular bar.

John couldn’t help the proud little smile he got reading that last line. Your weird humor, jokes, and terrible timing were present even two years ago. Good to know that was just how you always were. The rest of the transcripts were just your attorney reiterating that you had tried to go in to save your team and that the prosecution really didn’t have anything on you in terms of evidence.

The whole case rested on the foundation that you had known there would be a bomb inside that building. That you had known your team was going to die in that explosion. But there was no real case there, nor was there even a shred of evidence. Just a lawyer trying to spin a tale about how you had been knowingly incompetent and had sent your team to their deaths. It was laughable, and laugh he did.

Flipping to the next page John picked up the AAR for the very mission having been referenced in that trial. A detailed list of events told him everything that had happened, or at least everything you had reported. Your arrival time had been 21:47. Your team had come in on trucks, there was no need for being covert as it had been in the middle of nowhere. Upon your arrival you cleared through the front gate of the property dispatching the four outside guards. As you went to enter the building though a child had come out the front door.

You stated in your after action report that the child had only been about nine or ten years old, a male of non-fighting age. But anyone could get lucky. So, you had handed off your dog to Bravo Four, a Petty Officer Second Class Knox. You had then given the lead of the team over to Bravo Two, a Senior Chief Petty Officer McCann. Then you had stayed with the child outside of the building until two minutes later when you reported to command you heard screaming.

The court transcripts had already said you heard yelling but your AAR stated more, and in much greater detail. John took a sip from his glass of bourbon, wiping at his tired eyes before he continued. Apparently you had heard a woman’s scream and a man shouting in Oromo from your place outside. You reported having made it into the building after ordering the kid to get back behind the front gate. As you entered though the explosion had leveled the building and you had been trapped under the debris. You didn’t report any kind of blackout or anything, apparently you had been awake the whole time.

His heart hurt as he read the report, just the idea of you being hurt set him on edge. But something like this stuck with a man. It became a part of them, and for most it would have taken over every thought so completely it was doubtful there would have been any coming back from that. Yet you had persevered, found a way to make it work. Found a way to keep your sanity even when the odds had been stacked so heavily against you. Hell you left the very country you were born in, your wife, your parents, your siblings, everything you’d ever known and still you were alive. You were here. You were, on the outside, still whole.

It didn't take long for him to delve deeper into the file Laswell had put together of you. He read every single detail that he could. Once he had started he couldn't bring himself to stop. You were an addiction he could never seem to soothe. And the parts he had been dying to learn, to discuss with you, were at his very fingertips after you had so stubbornly kept them from him. He couldn't help it as he flipped to the next AAR, the next training report, the next page of your life. John would consume every single word in this file if it was the last thing he ever did, and for that night it was.

-------(Speck POV)------

Sunlight had started to come in through the window an hour ago. You knew because you'd counted every second from sunrise at 0610 to now 0710. When you finally couldn't stand it anymore you pushed yourself up. Per usual Cerberus was awake the second you moved, hopping out of bed as he moved to his food and water bowl waiting for his morning meal. You were quick to give it to him, scooping food into the bowl and filling the other one from the small tap in the room.

As Cerberus ate you brushed your teeth, quickly and then grabbed one of the pairs of jeans Laswell had provided you with as well as one of the dark t-shirts. You reached over the end of the bed into your duffel as you grabbed the cowboy boots at the bottom. Fuck laces today, you were too damn tired to deal with them. Getting dressed you stayed scarily quiet, maybe Ghost was starting to rub off on you.

Doubtful. Old dogs didn't learn new tricks. You had enough experience with them, you should know. Motioning for Cerberus the dog's head lifted from his water bowl as he trotted over, his muzzle dripping water all over the floor. It made you smile as you clipped the lead onto his collar and made for the door.

A deep rumble from the other side of the room stopped you though, "Where are you going?" Your eyes shot to the Lieutenant in the bed, his mask on and eyes glaring at you from where he was laying down. How long had he been awake? Holy hell. Maybe you hadn't been as quiet as you originally thought. Or maybe he sensed movement in the way the air moved through the room like some freaky cat man. Now that was a funny thought.

As it came to you though you drowned it in your mind. No way were you about to say that to him. Instead you cleared your throat and pointed towards the door, "Out." Hazel eyes narrowed into a true glare as he began to sit up. Quickly you tacked on, "To the mess hall. Out to the mess hall." Do not sass off to the scary fucker in the mask Speck. Please for the love of everything use your fucking brain.

Ghost rubbed at his face through the mask as he looked at you. Slowly he slid his long legs off the bed and stood up, "Wait." Simple enough to follow that instruction at least. You watched as he pulled on a pair of pants and a hoodie before he stood and grumbled, "Go." Leading him out you headed for the mess, it was surprisingly quiet this morning. Either too early or too late for the majority of the people on base. Moving through the line both you and Ghost found an empty table to take up residence at until it was time to head to the debrief.

It was only a couple minutes after that though that the table began to fill starting with Watcher who seemed just as awake as if it was the middle of the day. The ginger Scotsman cast you a friendly smile before saying, "Good mornin’ ta ye, Speck! Sleep well?" Those bright blue eyes flicked between the two of you with that sweet look. You were suddenly struck by just how young he looked. You'd thought about it a few times but until he was sitting there with a tray of food and those bright smiling eyes at 07:20 it hadn't occurred to you he barely looked a day over eighteen.

He reminded you of yourself when you'd first joined up. Fresh-faced and eager wouldn't even begin to cover it. You hadn't even finished high-school when you were running drills at boot camp. There had only been one path for a man who had fucked his life up when he got a girl pregnant at seventeen and set to deliver just a few months before graduation. So you'd sacrificed your future as an officer in the Navy and enlisted so she could finish high-school, so she could raise your daughter, so that both of their futures would be bright and happy. It hadn't been enough though, you’d never been enough.

When Ghost merely grunted at the ginger and lifted his mask up to take a bite of his eggs it left you to make conversation. Your dry eyes focused on the young man as you nodded, "Yeah. Slept great. How about you?" You kept the tiredness out of your voice, fixing him with a pleasant smile that you'd perfected over the years. Just smile and nod Speck, you'll get through this day just like you always do. Thoughts full of John and his disappointment and anger or no, you’d get through it.

The young Scotsman was soon joined by the youngest Brit on the team, you watched as Gaz took a seat beside Watcher with his own tray of food. It didn't even distract the young man in the slightest, "Aye I slept like a bear. Until Konig woke me up halfway through the night with his-" The noise the other man made took you completely aback. A small smirk finding your mouth at the noise. You blinked a few times and shot a look at Gaz who was smirking and then at Ghost who was…currently sitting with his head on his forearms and breathing deeply. Man was asleep again, good God.

Well he was asleep until Soap's tray of food clattered down beside him and he shot up with an angry look around the table for the perpetrator of such a heinous crime. For a second he looked like he was about to flip the dark haired Scotsman off the bench before he stopped himself settling for a quiet and seething glare fixing on him. "Good morning lads, beautiful sunrise this morning. I hope some of ye caught it," he didn't even glance at the withering look the Lieutenant was currently giving him. He had opted for the ignore and maybe he won't shoot you approach it seemed.

You gave him a quick smile and answer, "Oh yeah she was a beauty this mornin’." You shoveled some of the potatoes into your mouth along with a scoop of eggs. The Lieutenant across from you visibly recoiled at the sight of you mixing your food in your mouth. You wouldn't have taken Ghost for a picky eater but apparently you were wrong because when you did it again he threw his legs over the bench and put his back to you as he leaned against the table. It was honestly kind of a humorous sight to see the big man so broken by the sight of your eating habits.

Soap looked like he was about to say something when phones around the table buzzed. God already? You couldn't take another op this soon, not after the sleepless night you'd just suffered through. A smile lit up Soap's face the second he saw the text though and with the way he was looking you couldn't help but be curious. Leaning forward across the table a bit you caught the Sergeant's attention and he suddenly seemed to realize the fact that you weren't privileged with a phone at the moment. "No debrief this morning. Price said Laswell can't make it so we'll just do our AAR's and call it a day." You forced a smile on your face despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

No debrief meant you weren't likely to see him today then. Which also meant you wouldn't know if he'd forgotten about the whole mess of yesterday or not. You should have been happy like the rest of them, but the settling fact that you weren't likely to see John unless you sought him out was already weighing on you. Everyone else at the table was all smiles, chatting it up together as they ate their breakfast. Meanwhile you were a thousand miles away and off in your own drowning pit of despair.

When you finished the food on your tray you downed the rest of your water, gave the rest of the team a pleasant enough smile and bid your goodbyes. Maybe a shower would help, it always felt good to get clean, right? Wash all the burdens down the drain and let the warm water relax your muscles. Anything was better than continuing to let your brain rot in this purgatory it seemed to be settling itself into. Just go take a shower and forget your problems for a few minutes. Maybe then you could figure out how to fix this gap you'd only seemed to widen with John since you’d gotten here.

Stepping into the bunkhouse you unclipped Cerberus' lead, watching him move back to his unfinished breakfast and water bowl. You grabbed one of the clean sets of clothes from the table where you'd left them the other day. It looked so cluttered now, you really should pack all of this into your duffel. Ghost didn't strike you as the type to enjoy being surrounded by a mess. Bit of a clean freak if his spotless side of the room was anything to go by.

When you glanced at the corner where you'd thrown your duffel you quickly remembered you'd been forced to shed your gear in here last night. Damn you really needed to get all that stuff back to Wade lest that man had a conniption fit when his numbers were off. After a shower though, stay focused man. You lifted your duffel out of the corner, setting it on the bed and glancing through it. The black Georgia Bulldogs hat was near the top of the contents as you pulled it out, settling it on your head. It'd been too long since you'd been able to wear this thing and it was more of a comfort than you'd remembered, a small reminder of home that you'd forgotten you ever even needed.

Continuing to sort through the bag though your brows began to furrow. What the hell? You shifted the contents of the bag again and felt your heart rate rising with every second that it didn't touch your hand. Where the fuck was it? Another scramble of the contents of the bag and still the object you were looking for didn't turn up. No, no, no…Without a moment of hesitation you flipped the contents of the bag out, watching the items clutter the bed. Cerberus' spare tactical collar, his chain collar, the staple gun, knives, duct tape, countless other meaningless things but not the one thing that fucking mattered.

The bag dropped from your grip as you stared at the contents spilled onto your bed. Anger was beginning to boil underneath your skin, real and all consuming because it was the one thing that mattered other than Cerberus. The one thing you never left anywhere without. Hell it was the only thing other than your hat and boots that had made it this far from the US. If you thought you'd felt sick before this was more like a deadly plague. The back of your hand pressed against your lips, starting to shake as you breathed through the panic.

When the door opened behind you, you whirled on the Lieutenant coming through the door with Soap on his heels. They both stared at you for a tense moment but you couldn't have cared less what they were here to do. Instead your mind was filled with another question and you blurted it out without even thinking, "Did you go through my stuff, Ghost?" Somehow you kept the panic out of your voice and eyes. How you did it was a mystery but you'd managed it just barely.

Immediately Ghost's head tilted to the side and he blinked. Did he think that you were joking or something? Answer the fucking question, and answer he did, "No." Like hell he hadn't. No one else ever came in here who else would have touched your stuff.

You couldn't stop yourself from blurring out the accusation with a hard look, "No one else comes in here Ghost so if you didn't touch it who did?" It was stupid and you shouldn't have done it. When you were looking back on this moment you knew you would be regretting it, but the panic coursing through you along with the need to find it was making you incapable of worrying about the consequences.

Ghost's glare was obvious behind his mask then as he shot back, "How the bloody hell should I know? Come on, Johnny," the big man herded Soap out of the room and the door slammed shut behind him. Your hands couldn't stop shaking now, not even Cerberus' whines were reaching you and calming you down like they normally did.

This was the one thing you couldn't lose. The one thing that couldn't be replaced. Take your hat, take your boots, hell take a fucking limb but don't take that. Solutions ran through your head, maybe you'd left it somewhere. Even as you thought it you didn't believe it but maybe, just maybe, you'd forgotten it somehow.

Where was the last place you remember having it? In the showers. You'd seen it in your duffel bag as you were getting dressed after you and John had fucked. Start there then. "Fuss," you muttered and threw the door open, not even bothering with the dog's lead or to clean up the mess on your bed. You just took off running across the base with Cerberus at your side.

When you threw open the door of the showers you bolted inside. Cerberus panted beside you into the humid room, pacing the length of the aisle as you searched frantically through the locker you'd been using that day. Top to bottom it was completely empty, not so much as an indication it or you or anyone had ever been in there. "Fuck," you growled out, knuckles slamming against cold metal before you could even stop yourself.

A dent stared back at you as you held onto the sides of the locker. Rocking into it slowly your forehead tapped against the metal, you squeezed your eyes shut telling yourself to think, to remember. It had been in your bag a few days ago. Hadn't it? You'd seen it. Or had you just thought you saw it cause it was always there.

"Think!" You yelled to yourself as the side of your fist slammed into the locker then and you turned around. Cerberus was on the bench in front of you, his head tilting before he let out a low whine. When he moved his face closer to you though you backed away, all you could think about was her. The one you'd lost. And now you'd even lost the only fucking thing you had left of her. The Dutchie's head tilted to the other side and his ears pinned back to his skull. You'd never refused his touch before, never backed away from his comforting warmth. In fact you almost always without fail leaned into it, sought him when something was wrong.

Cerberus didn't understand, how could he? Your fingers shot up into your hair, tangling into the locks as you tried to steady yourself. To fight back the rising panic that was so close to consuming you. Just retrace your steps, it wasn't like you'd been all that many places on base yet. Where else had you been other than the showers? There was the mess hall but it definitely wasn't there and if it had ever been it wouldn't be there anymore. The cages but there was no way you would have brought it there, you knew you were heading out on a mission. You'd never be so careless with it. The squad room and John's office-

That had to be it, it was the only other place you'd been since you got here. If it wasn't in the showers or the bunkhouse it had to be there. You started off again, out the door with Cerberus at your hip as you sprinted across the base towards the squad room. As you peeled the corner and made for the door you stopped, frozen in place. The keypad glared at you with its mocking red light.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, the frustration was overflowing. Your anger and other emotions were the only thing holding the panic at bay now. Your foot kicked against the heavy door, a blockade you couldn't breach without the proper tools of which you had none. Once the beating started you couldn't stop it though, you reared back and let loose again as your foot slammed into the door. Your punches followed a moment after as you tried to beat the heavy obstacle into submission. Pain shot through your fist but even that didn’t stop the overwhelming anger and frustration.

It didn't budge. It wouldn’t fuckin budge. Until it did. And before you could stop it your foot slammed directly into John's solar plexus. Your eyes went wide immediately as you rushed frantically for him, "Oh shit, oh fuck. I'm sorry, I didn't mean- That was- I'm- Fuckin- Holy crap I'm sorry, John." Great now you'd hurt him both physically and emotionally. Why not go for the trifecta and just scar him for life Speck?

The Brit had stumbled backwards and landed on the couch when your full force kick had caught him so completely unawares. At first you saw anger flash in his eyes as he looked up at your face. Until he realized who it was and that your hand was currently pressed into his chest where the blow had landed. Then his rough palm came up to press against the back of your hand warm as his eyes searched yours. Your thoughts were buzzing and full with him. His warmth, his smell, the burning look in his eyes. It all crashed over your senses and for just a moment you forgot just why you'd been trying to beat the poor door in a few moments ago.

Then it all came crashing back the second he rumbled out, "I'm fine, no worries." Your fight with him, his anger at you, the near sacred object that you had lost. Like lightning your hands were back by your sides as you stepped away from him and looked around the squad room. His footsteps as he stood from the couch and Cerberus' both followed you, and you could hear John's curiosity without him even having to say anything. You didn't have the time to talk though, at least not in your mind.

Any second now you were going to lose what little calm you were currently able to hold onto. And there wasn't much of that to start off with after a sleepless night. Your eyes darted around the room as you moved to the fridge, glancing at the floors and the counter. Pulling the microwave off the wall as if what you were looking for could even fit behind there. "Speck?" John said your name and it didn't even register as you moved to the table you'd seen Watcher and Konig sitting at. You had stopped to talk to the German that morning, maybe it was there.

Looking around the table you huffed and dropped to your hands and knees inspecting the floor under the table as well. "Speck," it was a demand now and while it registered it wasn't for long. You didn't even turn your eyes up to him before you were back on your feet and moving towards the couch again. The cushions didn't last long as you started to pull them off, scanning as panic began to set in again.

Nothing, it wasn't there. Why wasn't it there? Cerberus was starting to whine again, he could sense your growing panic and he shoved his face into your hand. As if it had scalded you, you jerked away from him. Stepping away from the dog as he laid down with a dejected look on his face and his head on his paws, watching you with those big chocolate eyes. Fuck, stop doing that Speck. He doesn't even know what's going on. You'd lost one dog to a tragic accident already. The last thing you needed was to lose another because you couldn't keep it together.

"Stop," you whispered to yourself, hands reaching back into your hair and pressed against the sides of your head as if you could stop the racing thoughts by the force of your own hands. Faces flashed in your mind, groans of pain from you and the others trapped in that building. Their seared flesh assaulting your nose as you tried to do anything but wretch onto the ground at the stench of their burnt bodies. Yelps reached your ears, howls of pain from an animal who couldn't quite understand what had happened. Just as the rest of your team had been, Xena had been trapped in that rubble, flesh burnt and cooked alive in the initial blast.

McCann's scream as he probably tried to move and realized he was missing more than one limb. You knew that voice anywhere and you'd seen his body as they medevaced you all out. He'd been your best friend since you'd been Bravo Three when he'd just joined the teams and that was the day you'd lost him. After nearly ten years of operating together you had been forced to listen as he screamed and cried and begged to be put out of his misery.

That was the day you lost them all. McCann, Suarez, Knox, Zerol, Tyler, Baez, Anders, Cole, and Xena, nine losses in one day. It never should have happened to begin with, it was supposed to be a knockout op and everything had come crashing down around you. And the only thing you had left of them, of your brothers, of that life, was gone. You'd lost it just like you'd lost them, because you were careless and distracted and fucking stupid.

"Speck!" Hands grabbed your shoulders in an iron grip that made you wince at first as the man who had been trying to talk to you since the moment you'd walked through the door started shaking you. He pulled you out of the torrential downpour of your mind, finally drawing your eyes up to him even as you tried to drag yourself away. "Hey! Listen, look at me, sweetheart. You're ok, yeah?" The fingers holding you were too much, a physical touch that set your neurons on fire and made you flinch away even when you didn't mean to.

Your hand slammed into his elbow as you tried to pull away, unable to control your thoughts and movements at the same time. As soon as John noticed how hard you were struggling to get away though his hands released your shoulders and you backed up a few steps from him. Your mind was alight with stimuli, throwing you into a whirlwind of experience as you stumbled backwards away from him. The brunette held up his hands, your eyes zeroing in on the calloused palms and inspecting every mark, scar, and patch of skin you could get your eyes on. "Just sit down for me before you hurt yourself," that made sense. A very logical thought John.

The back of your thighs hit the table and your hands shot backwards. Your fingers dug into the wood as your breaths came fast and uncontrolled. John waited until you slid yourself backwards onto the table before he stepped forward a step. You gaze shot up, fixing onto his soft eyes and for just a moment you saw McCann in his gaze. Until now you hadn't realized it but they had shared the same color eyes, maybe that was why you'd so easily trusted him. John reminded you of him. The man you'd pined after for nearly a decade without any ability to go through with it. You were married and by the time you weren't well…by the time you weren't he was long gone from this cruel world.

"What's wrong?" His words rumbled out smoothly in that deep, gravelly voice. Immediately your head shook in response and you saw a frown come over his features. Surprisingly he didn't press the issue though as he asked, "What are you looking for? I'll help you find it. And, don't you dare say nothing because you just tore apart our squad room." Slowly your eyes slid over the tornado that had come through here and you dropped your eyes to hide your embarrassment.

A shrug lifted your shoulders as you tried to answer, "I'm not- It's not-" The hand that wrapped around the side of your neck stopped your words before you could attempt to give him an absolutely absurd lie. His fingers dug into the flesh where your spine sat just below the skin, grounding you with the intense pressure that was edging on pain but hadn't quite made it there yet. Slowly your eyes lifted once more to find his steady, blue gaze. John watched you patiently, giving you the time to get your thoughts in order after your near breakdown but refusing to give you the space. It was a delicate line he was currently walking but somehow he was managing to balance on the tightrope of your psyche.

Just tell him, Speck. He'd said he would help you find it. Besides you seriously doubted he was about to relent his hold on your neck until you spilled what had nearly had you tumbling overboard. "It's something from my time in the SEALs," you muttered quietly and you watched him give a quick nod to indicate he'd heard. Nothing else though. He was still waiting for more and you felt your lips loosening as you started speaking, "It's important, John. It looks, uh," you paused trying to figure out how to describe it, "Like a, um," Another pause stopped you. God Speck, spit it out, "Well like a bloody shirt. It looks like a bloody rolled up shirt." His head tilted then and his grip loosened.

For a moment it felt like he was about to pull away and the moment the thought crossed your mind your hand shot up to wrap around his wrist. His gaze flicked down as you held his rough hand against your neck, his thumb swiping over your cheek with a soft touch. While his eyes and touch screamed soft and caring his voice was all business, "Where'd you see it last, Love?" Huh, he was actually going to help, and he wasn't even going to judge you for it. That was certainly a surprise.

Your eyes closed as you thought, recollecting your memories and sifting through them like files. "In my duffel bag where I always keep it. I just don't get it," your eyes opened quickly to find his gaze again as you pulled his hand down to your lap where your fingers ran over his skin in slow circles. It distracted your mind just enough that you could continue, "I mean I never take the damn thing out of my bag. Ever. Not since I left the US. It stays in there-" Your palms pressed to either side of his hand, lifting it slowly to brush his knuckles against your lips and close your eyes. "I can't lose it, John," you whispered against his skin and felt his fingers tighten around yours.

There was determination in his gaze when you looked back up at him as he brought his other hand up to rest against the back of yours. He gave a quiet nod before he pulled your hands apart, "Let's go then. We'll find it." John backed up and you slid back to the floor, following after him slowly. He stopped at the door and glanced behind you quickly before his head tilted, "Leaving Cerberus here, Speck?" Oh God you'd almost forgotten about him being here. Get back on your game before you mess something else up.

Glancing back towards the Dutchie you saw her again, for just a moment. Singed and crying and dying as she searched desperately for you. Collapsing down beside you in her final moments with her sides heaving as she whined and begged for the familiar comfort you had always brought. Your jaw tensed for just a moment until you felt a hand on your shoulder and you steeled yourself once more. Putting up that mask that kept people at a distance. You were fine, that was two years ago, Xena was gone and you had moved on from her and Bravo Team. "Hier, Cerb," the dog stood up, hesitating for just a moment before he trotted up to you, sitting at your feet with his ears pinned back and his tail whipping back and forth behind him slowly, almost nervously.

You knelt for a moment in front of him. Twice today you had pulled away from his comfort. Twice today you had hurt him without meaning to. "I'm sorry buddy," your hand ran over his head, you patted him on his side listening to the solid thump. And then you were standing up, issuing a quick, "Fuss," to the Dutchie as you turned to find John.

The Brit had already opened the door and was waiting for you patiently. As you slid by him his fingers reached out to grab your shoulder stopping you for just a moment as he stared hard at you before stating simply, “We’ll find it. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me, yeah?” You felt heat in your cheeks then, holding the breath you’d already taken in. Giving him a few quick, short nods your eyes shot down to his boots feigning interest in the laces as you swallowed hard. It felt too intimate, too close, like he truly cared about how you felt. It was a foreign experience to you.

His hand stayed at your shoulder for a few moments before he gave it a small squeeze and let the door close as he headed on down the halls. Following behind him until you were outside and you caught up, matching strides with him all the way back to the bunkhouse. Pushing the door open you stepped inside, eyes shooting to the bed where you had dumped quite literally everything out of the bag onto it. John came in behind you and closed the door quietly, his chin lifting as he looked at the mess on your side of the room.

No judgment found you though like you expected, instead he just walked over and you followed behind him. His eyes ran over the items you’d strewn over the bed, and then found the duffel bag. Meticulously he ran his hands around the inside of the duffel to check it before he started to place every single item back inside. Glancing at you with a question in his eyes, even asking on the first few, “Is this it?” When you shook your head though he would place it in the duffel and then move on to the next one.

When he ran out of items laying on the bed he moved to the table where your clothes were all still folded neatly on it. The two of you repeated the same process with the articles of clothing as he placed them all into the duffel. Not only was he helping you look for the most sacred object you possessed, at the exact same time he was helping you clean up the small space you’d been given to share with the Lieutenant.

Still there was no luck so he zipped the bag up and left it on the table for the moment. He moved to the corner where your gear had been left the night before and inspected each item carefully. John pulled what he knew was the standard issue gear you’d been given for the mission out of the corner and laid it on the table next to the duffel. His dark brows furrowed in concentration as he looked at the now empty and cleaned up space.

The nails on your fingers scratched nervously at the short hairs on your jaw, the panic beginning to rise again as you stated, “See? It’s not here. Shit don’t make sense, John.” Blue eyes turned your way for a moment before you continued, “I asked Ghost if he’d been through my stuff and he said no. I just don’t get it.” You sighed and leaned back against the wall you were standing against.

Your chin tilted down against your chest, arms crossing over your chest as you closed your eyes and raised a hand to your forehead. Actively fighting back those waves of panic again. Preparing the coral reef that protected the shores of your fragile ecosystem from the oncoming tsunamis that were your memories. It was gone. You’d lost it. After two years of protecting such a precious object you’d lost it due to your own stupidity.

A hand was on yours in the next moment. Those rough palms pulling your hand off your forehead and replacing it with his own warm and lined one. His hands cupped your cheeks grounding you in the present as you fought as hard as you could to stop the emotions trying to tear free from you. Two years and you had never expressed that grief, that pain, to anyone. There honestly hadn’t been anyone after…well after the accident.

John’s deep voice rumbled in front of you, “Listen to me.” You didn’t say anything, not even a grunt to let him know you were listening and so his fingers slid down to the back of your neck. Thumbs still pressed against the bone of your cheek as it rubbed soothingly over it, “It’s gonna be ok, sweetheart. Since when do you give up, huh?” The words made you think of all those months ago laying in his bed when you’d told him that you were, ‘Never out of the fight.’ Right now though you felt like you didn’t have the energy to barely even stand in front of him anymore. Much less fight to find the object that kept you grounded in life now.

Unconsciously you leaned forward into him, feeling his weight slowly wrapping around you. Your arms slid around his waist as you pulled him into your chest, forcing him to brace himself against the wall with a hand on either side of your shoulders. Without even really considering what you were doing your face slid into the crook of his neck, seeking comfort in a way you’d never been able to do before. Not a soul alive or dead had ever been a source of physical comfort for you and the feeling was quickly becoming intoxicating to you.

His arms boxed you in on either side before he slowly let his weight press you back into the wall. Heavy against you and the solid barrier behind you. It was like the entirety of a weighted blanket had just been thrown over just your chest, his arms slowly sliding around your back. He felt almost cautious against you, like he was afraid he was going to scare you away from the intimacy. However the only thoughts that were running through your mind at the moment were the ones currently telling you how bad you’d fucked up.

Your nose pressed hard into his neck, eyebrows furrowing as you winced from the physical sensations of grief pressing into the depths of every nerve ending in your body. He was the rock you were currently clinging to in an effort to keep yourself above the oncoming storm. “I don’t give up, John,” you finally muttered into his neck, squeezing your arms tighter around his waist. You didn’t say, ‘But what else can we do now?’ However, you certainly thought it. Your face pressed up into the warmth of his neck, blocking out the light of the day currently flooding into the room and making your eyes hurt.

Exhaustion wracked your entire body at this point. You’d checked everywhere, what else was there to do? The deep voice rumbled in front of you, vibrations running through your whole chest as he said, “Exactly.” He went quiet then, letting you exist in the silence and his warmth.

God, how long had it been since you’d actually felt someone so close like this and it wasn’t because they were trying to get into your pants? Never? There wasn’t a time you could remember when anyone had actually ever done this for you. Just let you hug them and not expect anything in return. Hell you don’t think you’d ever had anyone to hug before. How sad was that? Jesus christ you were fucked up.

John tensed in your arms suddenly and you mirrored his reaction. Feeling his grip loosening from around your back before he pulled away and suddenly the door was open. Still leaning back against the wall you turned your head to glance at the intruder. The white skull mask turned to find you as you crossed your arms over your chest and slid your carefully crafted mask into place. John raised a brow at the Lieutenant.

The big man stayed silent before you, not willing to broach the territory of a conversation first before either of you. It was John who finally spoke after more than a few awkwardly staring seconds, “Need anything Lieutenant?” Ghost turned his intense gaze to the brunette and you saw those hazel eyes narrow before flicking between the two of you. Did he know? Had he seen the two of you? Great just one more thing to add to the five course meal of anxiety you’d already been served today.

He seemed to realize something though as he glanced beside you to the empty table and asked, “Did Wade bring our laundry back?” Your head tilted immediately in question and he stared for a few seconds before saying, “Laundry day? Wade did ours. He said he dropped it off when I saw him earlier.” Your head lifted a little higher and you stepped around the table to grab the duffel bag and unzip.

Counting through the items of clothing you narrowed your eyes and muttered, “Sixteen.” John stepped closer with a confused look and you growled, “Sixteen pairs of pants and sixteen shirts. He went through my duffel for my clothes.” Anger pulsed through you, the panic that had been present a moment before completely extinguished in the blazing heat that was your rage. “He took it,” you said to John before turning to Ghost and asking, “Where was he headed?”

The big man gave you a curious look before shrugging the mass of his shoulders and answering, “Said something about the gym I think.” Ghost’s eyes were narrowed at your seething form now as you moved towards the door.

Turning to John you asked, “Where’s the gym?” The brunette watched you for a moment before he headed by you out the door and you were hot on his heels. He led you in the direction of the obstacle course but turned off the path before he got there and into a fenced in outdoor gym. And there the pale blonde stood doing barbell curls without a single damn care in the world while you ran around base nearly having a heart attack because of him.

“Speck,” John stopped you with a hand against your chest and made sure to catch your eye before he added, “I’ll talk to him. You just stay here, yeah?” Your jaw worked for a few seconds as it clenched and unclenched. He wanted you to just stay here? You deserved to be over there, to make sure that idiot knew and understood what he had done. John wasn’t going to let you no matter what, better to just agree and so you gave him a single nod of response. The Captain watched for just a moment longer before he turned and headed over to where Wade was just setting the barbell down.

There wasn’t a chance in hell you were staying over here though, no matter what you’d just told John. You stalked across the gym, slipping through the other men and women currently working out as you blended into the crowd of soldiers, even escaping John’s watchful gaze long enough to get closer. As you neared your target you slowed down, catching the words of confusion from Wade who was saying, “I don’t know what you are talking about Captain. I did laundry like I always do.” Another slinking step forward and you finally caught Price’s eyes, but then Wade said the words that changed the game, “I went through his things like I told him I would. There was a bloody shirt at the bottom of his bag that I threw out, yes, but I was under the impression-”

“You did what?” Your question came out before you could stop it, you truly hadn’t even meant to say it aloud. The man froze in front of you as you stood at his back seeming to loom over him like a shadow now. You were taller than him yes but you certainly weren't loom over him tall, not until that very moment anyway. Wade slowly turned his head to glance over his shoulder, finding the deadpanned look you were currently fixing on his wiry frame, but it was impossible to miss the growing rage swirling in your eyes. “I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say?” The blonde darted forward over the barbell he had dropped a few moments ago with surprising quickness and put Price’s large form between you and him.

Frantically the man answered you with a quick, “I-I threw it away. It was just a bloody shirt. I can’t get that much blood out so-so-so I got rid of it. I told you I was going to!” For a tense and surprisingly quiet moment you just stared at the man. You were so still it was like staring at the dead eyes of a statue, not even your jaw was working anymore. He’d thrown it away? He’d thrown your stuff away? Your fists clenched despite the stillness of the rest of your body.

Until not even your shock could hold you to the ground anymore and you lunged forward so fast you were around Price almost before the man could react. Just as you darted by though his arm whipped out, fingers wrapping around your forearm as you did the same and snapped Wade’s arm up in an iron grip. Immediately they were both pulling in different directions in their attempt to get you off of the Corporal. John was dragging you back by the one arm and wrapping his arm around your torso in an attempt to control your sudden outburst. Wade was pulling away as hard as he could, prying the bone crushing grip of your fingers off of his comparatively thin wrist.

Price’s arm locked your other arm down to your side even as you held onto Wade, lifting you up off the ground as you fought back with wild elbows. He jerked you around to the other side and your grip on Wade couldn’t hold any longer at the force of two people working to get you off of him. The wiry man backed up as Price restrained your now free arm. “Get back here fuckface,” you yelled at him, drawing eyes from the rest of those at the gym but not a bit of embarrassment coursed through you.

Your growl shifted to John right behind you then, “You promised me you’d get it back. Taking it back now?” The volatile anger was on full display now, completely unhinged and exploding. Unlike your pain, grief, and panic, anger was one of the only emotions you’d ever been allowed to set free and by God were you letting it go. There was a readiness to kill in your eyes that couldn’t have been rivaled even by a rabid dog. Your talisman had been taken from you, ripped from your very soul, and there was nothing centering you anymore. No one could have calmed you down at that moment, not a soul alive or dead.

When John whipped you back around so he could find Wade’s eyes he glared at the man and said through gritted teeth as he strained to keep you restrained, “Find it, Wade. I don't care what you have to do, but you find that fucking shirt. Now.” The pale blonde backed up a few more steps as he watched you still trying to break free with a singular thought to get to him, and then the man took off at a sprint out of the fenced in gym. And especially away from the killer that was currently trying to fight their way towards him with tooth and nail.

The arms around you hugged you so tight to his body that with every breath out you felt how much harder it was to take in the next one. His arms were rock hard against your torso as they strained and flexed. The growl in your ear barely registered, “Speck stop. He’s going to get it back,” your feet hit the ground and the second they did you spun him around shoving him backwards towards the fence until you felt his body hit against it. The Brit held fast though as he growled again, “If you don’t stop I will make you. Control yourself.”

The words grated your mind like nails on a chalkboard. Making you flinch away as you tried to rein yourself in. “Control myself? Control myself!?” In one swift, anger fueled movement of your hands they shot up to the weak point where his fingers were locked together and broke his hold. “I was controlling myself.” You stepped closer to him, breaths coming in deep and fast as you spat, “He’d be dead right now on the ground if I hadn’t been controlling myself.” Backing up a step you growled at the other man, “You have no idea what he did, Captain,” before you could back up again he grabbed you by the arm. His fingers wrapping around your bicep as he drug you out of the fenced in area.

Both of you turned a corner into a little space between two buildings before you jerked your arm from his grip. He stood a little straighter in response and took a deep breath before he finally spoke as calmly as he could, “I don’t know what he did because you won’t tell me. So tell me. Explain why you just tried to kill one of my men.” Again with this, good Lord. Why in the hell did he want to know so bad? What did it matter the reason why, you’d done it that was the end of the story right? A sigh left you as you shook your head and started to turn to leave but he blocked your path.

Turning back around you clenched a fist. You’d never talked about it, he didn’t want to see that. Watch you break down talking about dead men he’d never even known. He wouldn’t care, it was your problem to handle and you had been before this whole team came alone. John didn’t want to see what would happen when you were forced to talk about this. It was degrading, shameful, no one was supposed to see you like that and especially not another man. John wasn’t backing down though as you stared him down, you either talk or get prepared for an actual fight.

For the first time in a long time though you’d found a man you weren’t willing to just let loose and deck. You broke first, eyes averting to the ground with a sigh. Just get it over with, keep it together, and then go find Wade and finish the job. “It’s the shirt I was wearing when I lost my team,” his hard gaze softened but only just barely. He wasn’t letting you off that easy this time, he wanted more. “I keep…things inside of it.” Your arms crossed over your chest, fingers picking at the skin of your elbow as you tried to keep the anxiety from bubbling up at the memory of your most holiest of possessions.

“How did you lose your team?” His question made you tense, spine going rigid as you fought back those memories again. Why? Why ask a question like that? Your eyes shot past him before you shook your head. That wasn’t going to cut it though because he asked again immediately, “How did you lose your team, Speck?” Your lips parted for a moment almost finding the resolve to answer and then losing it just as quickly as it had come.

Shifting uncomfortably on your feet you wrapped your arms a bit tighter around your torso and shook your head muttering, “I’ve never-” Your voice cracked and you hid it behind a false clearing of your throat. John’s eyes narrowed in response but he remained stubbornly in front of you blocking your way. Again your gaze dropped to the ground and you shook your head, “I can’t talk about it.” You took a breath and saw him move forward like he was about to say something else in response before you added, “Not here.” Well you’d bought yourself some time with that one at least as you watched him pause his step and then beckon you with a wave.

He led you back through the paths to the bunkhouses. Bothering to keep stride with him felt pointless now. The exhaustion was hitting you as your anger once again evaporated out of your mind like sweat off of skin. You had no doubt that if Wade were to enter your field of view again you would be raring to go. However, as of right now you just felt the full weight of everything you'd kept so compressed behind lock and key for two years finally coming back to bite you in the ass.

You were so out of it. Just barely managing to force yourself to follow with a straight face and your eyes locked on John's back that you didn't even hear the approaching feet behind you. A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked a couple times, turning to find Soap watching you curiously as he walked behind Price with you. "Are ye ok?" A half smile tilted up the corner of your mouth in response and you nodded instinctively. It was a conditioned response so ingrained into you that it happened of its own volition. "Well did ye find what ya were looking for?" Another brick was added to the growing number on your back, weighing you down you were sure you were going to start sinking into the ground any minute now.

There was a hitch in your step and you just barely caught yourself as the toe of your boot grazed against the ground and caught on the path below you. You very nearly took a nosedive for the ground hands reaching out to grab onto something to stop your descent. Something caught you and you looked up, saved by the man you'd been following who had stopped abruptly by chance and turned with wide eyes as you fell. Immediately you pushed yourself away from him and gave a small smile and huff of amusement to keep the Scot from asking too many questions. You were so off your game of being "Speck" that you were nearly unrecognizable as an operator right now and the last thing you needed was Soap deciding he wanted to know why too.

Thankfully John answered for you, "Don't you have paperwork to fill out Soap? I expect it to be on my desk by morning." The Scotsman was groaning nearly as soon as the words 'Don't you' came out of the Captain's mouth. He retreated with a few quick goodbyes and I’ll see you laters before John kept walking while you trailed behind him. When you ascended the stairs and he opened the door of his bunkhouse he locked the door behind you and guided you to one of the chairs in the room. "Sit," he ordered in that deep voice that for once wasn't reaching below your belt where it usually did.

The sound died almost the second it hit your ears but you did manage to comply with the order. Leaning back in the chair with your elbow on the table beside you as you turned your face to rest your mouth on your fist. John pulled up a chair in front of you then and you were reminded very suddenly of when he'd done the same during his interrogation of you.

That's what this was though wasn't it? It was just another interrogation except this time the information was valuable. Something you actually cared about. A secret you held so closely and dear to your heart that you'd never let anyone even come close to it before. Yet here you were about to divulge it to a man, to John. Good God your parents were right, you were weak.

Shifting your eyes to his, he was already staring at you. It made your eyes flick away immediately, fixing on the door, your escape. John said nothing though, he just sat there and he waited. The man was patient beyond reason, patient and stubborn, a natural born sniper. You lost track of the time the two of you spent sitting there in silence with him unmoving as he watched you. Meanwhile you were doing everything in your power not to shift under his gaze all the while failing miserably.

It had to have been close to two hours, if not more than that, by the time you finally opened your mouth, "It was an explosion." Your throat felt dry as you spoke and you saw him sit forward in the chair with his elbows on his knees listening intently. And again he waited, sat there unmoving once more wearing down your psyche with his gaze and quietness alone. "I fucked up. I sent them in without me when I never should have." You felt your breaths becoming shallower, your throat tightening in response to your admission of guilt for the first time ever. Acknowledging your part in your team's death out loud this time, not just in your head.

There was no lying to John though. You couldn't lie and especially not now, not about this. People saw through you so easily it was laughable, and sadly there was no role to play here but your own sad and pathetic one. So your story continued, "I tried to go in for them but by the time I got my shit together it was too late. Got blown up, ten times worse than the bombs at Zabol's market. This one had one hell of a kick." You remember the deafening sound, the way your ears had rung for weeks afterwards. The heat though, that searing pain of first degree burns as every hair on the front of your body singed with it. The heat was what stuck with you even now after two years.

Sitting up your hands clasped between your thighs, palms squeezing and rubbing together as you tried to mitigate the response to the memories. You failed. "They died because I made a bad decision," the acknowledgement made tears prick into your eyes, blurring your vision as you blinked them back. "I made the wrong decision and I wasn't fast enough to correct it. I lost eight brothers that day, eight of them John. My dog, too." Your eyes found him for a quick moment before darting away once more to watch your palms rubbing together still.

How did a supposed leader even fuck up so monumentally? The best of the best, that's what you had been called, that's what had been expected of you. Yet it had ended up with you lying on your back stuck under the wall that had collapsed on top of you. Your nails dug into the back of your hand until finally the pain was bringing you back. Crescent moons of blood erupted just beneath your fingernails and in your mind it felt good. Anything was better than the emotional pain of actually dealing with your grief.

John was still quiet in front of you, and you still couldn't bring yourself to look at his face. Especially not with the screams echoing in your ears again. "I was outside with a child when I heard someone screaming inside so I told the little boy to go, run as far as he could and don't come back," your voice was losing its volume and the steadiness that you had forced into it.

There was no telling how much longer you'd be able to keep it together now. Get through it so you can leave, hurry up Speck, "I watched him run, right past the front gate. And I could hear the screaming still from inside,” your hand lifted to run over your mouth as you remembered the woman and man shouting. “I heard my-my Two, McCann was his name. Ryan McCann. He commed and said he had the HVT. I hesitated, I was gonna let him finish and then I-I heard him yell something about a bomb. I was the only EOD on the team," you swallowed hard remembering when that lawyer had stated the very same thing while accusing you of killing your men.

One hand flicked up, scratching over the hairs of your beard as you nervously picked at the skin of your face. You couldn’t keep yourself still, couldn't even look up at John as the memories flooded over you, pulling you into the rising tide of your psyche. "I didn't know," suddenly you were back in that courtroom and instead of the calmness you had projected so easily there your nerves took over every movement and thought. "I never would have sent them in if I'd known. I swear, I just, I didn't-" your hands pressed into your thighs, squeezing at the muscle underneath as you fought internally with yourself.

But it wasn't until warm, rough palms found the backs of your hands that you began to truly come apart. Your eyes shut tight as the yelping started in your ears, breaths coming in quick and shallow but you couldn't fight it back anymore. The defense against the tidal wave was gone, crumbled beneath that warm touch. A knife plunged into your gut and twisted so painfully you felt like you were going to be sick. The smell of burnt flesh, hair, and fur assaulted your senses so completely you could feel the bile trying to rise at the back of your throat again. Ignore and override, ignore and override, ignore and-

John's hands grasped yours and then pried the fingers off of the flesh you'd been digging into and rested them on his own. "Come here, Love," he whispered and you didn't even realize how close he'd gotten. You'd been looking everywhere but at him. Your hands were shaking as you tried to work them but you couldn't anymore. Everything felt so dead, every limb barely even able to move anymore. The man in front of you seemed to realize it too because he slid his chair even closer, his knees pressed against the inside of your thighs as he wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you forward.

You slid along the length of his thighs until your chest was pressed to his. Warmth permeated your ice cold skin as he held you. But the memories just kept coming, the dam had not only been opened, it was blown apart and crumbling and there was no stopping it anymore. "I was trapped for an hour," you whispered against his shoulder. "I had to listen as they all screamed and begged to be killed," your chest was hurting now, your heart pounding inside like a drum. "I've never heard a dog scream before but Xena…She screamed, John, how does that even-" a sob broke your sentence as finally you regained control of your arms and latched yourself onto him.

Two years you had avoided this. Let it boil and build inside you for you feared the moment it was released. Now that time was here and it was destroying you from the inside out. "I saw her, stumbling through the rubble, and I couldn't even go to her-" Another sob stopped you, your body trying to curl in on itself only stopped by the strong arms wrapped around you. "She was right there. So close to me and crying. It was like she was asking me to stop the pain and I couldn’t even give her that. She was looking at me like she knew it was my fault." The tears you'd been holding back were held back no more. They slid down your face and caught in the fabric of his shirt right where your chin was resting on his shoulder.

A hand reached up to the back of your head, stroking gently at your hair and the nape of your neck before he whispered, "It wasn't your fault, Love. It was never your fault. You made the best decision you could with the options in front of you. That's what every leader does and you did your best," the deep rumbling voice was soothing. But, even his assurances couldn't stop the absolute breakdown you were currently in the middle of.

You just wanted to hide away, seclude yourself and let it all pass like you usually did. Ignore and override. But the man you were currently clinging to for dear life wouldn’t let you do that. Quietly you whispered, "I watched all of them being carried out. Some of them made it out of the building but none of them made it through the ride back. I was under that wall for so long John. It took an hour for them to get there but it took another just to dig me out." Your face turned to face the bare skin of his neck as you rested your cheek on his shoulder.

Blue eyes turned down to look at you, wondering if you were going to keep going or let the rest die on your tongue. Fuck it. "They brought McCann by me on a stretcher. I didn't even recognize him at first. He was so…burnt. He was crying and whispering and the only hand he had left was waving around trying to find something to hold onto." Your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, holding on for dear life and the man didn't even react; he just let you take what you needed. "Then he screamed as they set him down with the others, and he saw me and he just kept muttering my name until he couldn’t anymore. Why can I still hear that? I never should have let them go in, it should have been me. I should have died with them and I didn’t." The sobs wracked your body then, shaking you in the man's arms as you buried your face into his neck.

Everything hurt. Your head, your chest, your stomach they all felt like someone was driving an ice pick into them with a hammer. Your hands were shaking so hard now that they couldn't even hold onto the man. It was like you were suffering through a fever that was burning as hot as the sun itself. "Don’t ever say that. You were meant to be here, and you were meant to live that day. What happened was a tragedy but it wasn’t anything you could have stopped. No one could have.” He paused as his lips pressed against your cheek, “I've got you," he whispered as he shifted in the chair. His beard scratched over your cheek before you felt his lips against your temple pressing a light kiss against it before he whispered again, "I've got you, sweetheart."

Strong hands ran over the expanse of your back, nails scratching light and soothingly through the fabric. And the feel of it, the intimacy of the whole situation, only drove more sobs and a fresh stream of tears from you. Your touch starved body and emotionally repressed mind didn't even know how to process it. There was so much just coursing through you right now it seemed as if it would never go away.

By the time your tear ducts had dried out you were still letting out harsh, shaking sobs against him. Your skull was pounding with the effort but you didn't know how to stop. God, had you ever cried before? Certainly not where anyone else could see. You'd been certain that you had just been born without the ability to do so. Never learning how to express emotions like this, and certainly never seeing your father do the same. If he ever saw you clinging to another man crying like a baby that man probably would have beat you senseless. Not his son.

But it didn’t matter, not right now. You couldn’t have moved even if you wanted to. Every limb was dead now, you were a limp body in John’s arms as you felt him shift beneath you again. The light strokes on your back stopped for just a moment, his hands sliding beneath your thighs before you felt him stand. It was vertigo-inducing for just a moment before you pulled yourself closer and locked your legs around his waist. “Please don’t make me go, not yet,” you mumbled into his skin, feeling another sob work its way up at the thought that he was about to make you leave again.

His hands ran over the swell of your ass before his arms wrapped around your back and his hands squeezed into the muscles on your sides. You felt him shake his head against you before he answered, “I’m not making you go. Never going to let you go again.” John turned around and headed towards the door but he stopped before he made it there and when you opened your eyes you heard something behind you before the lights flipped off overhead. Your face lifted for just a moment before one of the hands left your back and moved to run through your hair as he gently pushed your cheek back down with a quiet, “I’ve got you, shh.”

John moved through the room again, before you heard the bed creak beneath you and he laid you down on your back, your head resting on the pillow. His body relaxed on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress like he had done back in your bunkhouse against the wall. It was a comforting pressure in your current state, his mass kept the anxiety at bay. The brit’s strong arms remained wrapped around your back as your own pulled his face down into your neck and shoulder so you could feel the hair of his beard scratch against your cheek.

The pounding of your head made you wince and press further into his shoulder to block out the light coming in through the window. A second later you felt his words rumble against you, “What’s wrong?” When you didn’t answer his arms unwound from around you and he pushed himself up to look down at you, the loss of his weight nearly drew out another sob at the thought he was going to get up. “What’s wrong, Speck?” Leaning on his elbows above you, you felt his hand run against your cheek as he wiped some of the tear tracks off your skin.

His soothing touch seeped into the very marrow of your bones as you leaned into it with a sigh. Finally you managed to mumble out, a strain still in your voice after your breakdown, “Head hurts.” John hummed in response and you felt fingers press into your temple gently. And then his other hand was on the other side, rubbing soothing circles into the thin skin.

Low rumbles came from his chest. They weren’t words, just quiet hums that vibrated through your entire being. It made the tension in your throat release, something for your exhausted mind to focus on that wasn’t the memories still trying to force their way into every thought. Just his presence was relaxing. It wasn’t long until your arms slowly went slack from around his neck, your hands falling to rest against your chest. His fingers lulled you slowly into the dark void of slumber surprisingly easy, especially after the sleepless night from before.

-----(John POV)-----

He’d been fighting off his own emotions the entire time he’d been watching you. The pain you had hidden for so long just rushed out in an overwhelming flood, nearly taking him under with it. His heart hurt seeing you wrecked with those emotions. And the knowledge that you had never let yourself feel it. To be the one to force it out of you hurt him more than he ever thought it would.

Now your deep breaths came evenly instead of the harsh and shaking sobs you’d been letting out a few minutes before. Your pain had become his pain and the reality of that hit him harder than he thought was imaginable. John was no stranger to emotions, he too usually held them back until he could let them out in appropriate company or just alone. But he’d rarely ever felt this, it was beyond just being empathetic towards you.

Suddenly John was very aware that this was not just a passing fancy, or some fleeting feeling of lust, it went deeper than that. And to know that at any moment you could be killed and it would be his fault scared him. Terrified him. But right now that wasn’t what he needed to be focusing on. He had more pressing matters to deal with than his own feelings towards you, even if they were scary enough to make him pause.

For one he had you beneath him, breathing deeply and fast asleep. Finally after eight months he could just enjoy the sight of you being right where you were supposed to be. Like you should have been that morning you’d first disappeared. He did wish it was under better circumstances though. Wished desperately that your eyes weren’t currently red. That your hair wasn’t a complete mess after running your own hands through it so many times. That the dirt on your face wasn’t marred by the salty tears currently staining the shoulder of his shirt.

His eyes dropped to your evenly rising and falling chest. Slowly his forehead lowered to lean against where your heart rested underneath, turning his head to lay his ear against your sternum. Your heart thudded quietly beneath the muscle, flesh, and bone, settling his nerves as it continued to beat strong and even. For now you were ok, peaceful even beneath him after you’d basically cried yourself to sleep in his arms.

John laid there for a few minutes, content to listen to your beating heart and steady breathing. His feelings, his own emotions, could be saved for another day. A day when you weren’t a vulnerable wreck at the hands of your own compressed feelings and your probable-PTSD case.

He’d figured after reading your file that that had been your problem during the op you had been on. Though he hadn’t thought he would have to see it on full display so soon after reading that AAR. The sight of you breaking because of him and his questions had been disconcerting but no one deserved to have all that pent up and especially not for two years.

It was hard for him to pin you into that corner. To force you into talking to him about it but judging by what you’d said and the way you’d reacted to those memories it was completely necessary. A sigh left him as he pushed himself up slowly, careful not to wake your heavily sleeping form beneath him. He sat himself on the edge of the bed, watching your face for a moment longer before he stood up.

His eyes immediately flicked to the mirror that hung just above the tap, catching sight of the salty stains on the shoulder of his shirt. The fingers of his hand reached up to touch it before he shook his head and quietly crossed the room to the door. He left the bunkhouse, careful not to wake you as he locked the door behind him so no one disturbed your now peaceful slumber. Crossing the path he headed for the bunkhouse you shared with Ghost and pushed inside. The Lieutenant was gone again but he was immediately greeted by the wagging tail of your dog.

“Hey Cerberus,” John muttered to the Dutch Shepherd. You’d left him behind during your rage to find Wade. The man glanced around your side of the room before he saw the lead and grabbed it off the table, clipping it to Cerberus’ collar and saying, “Right, come on then.” He slipped out of your bunkhouse and down the stairs, but he didn’t immediately go back to his bunkhouse.

John wasn’t a dog handler but he knew enough about dogs to know that this one in particular needed to expend some energy before he ended up eating through a wall or something. That was definitely the last thing he needed to hear Ghost complaining about to him. So he took Cerberus around the base with him for a few laps, watching as he tried to adjust his running style from yours to his. He let the dog run off his seemingly boundless energy at the expense of his own aching knees. Christ, how did you do this everyday? This damn dog never slowed the hell down.

By the time he rolled back up to his bunkhouse with the dog he was panting harder than the damned animal beside him. He leaned over, bracing himself on his knees as sweat dripped off his forehead. Cerberus paced beside him like he was still ready to keep going, “Not a chance, kid. Your handler can take you back out tomorrow, you’re just going to have to deal with it today.” He headed up the steps of the bunkhouse and gave a quiet cough before he opened the door and let the dog inside.

Cerberus seemed to stop to inspect the room for a moment before pulling against the lead to move where you had rolled over in the bed to face the wall. Price held tight to the lead though, stopping him from making it across the room. He had to think for a moment in an attempt to remember all the commands he’d heard you say so far before he gave up and just whispered, “Nein.” The Dutch Shepherd stopped pulling and turned to look at him with a tilted head.

John put a finger to his lips and whispered, “Stay quiet or you’re out of here.” Cerberus sat down, watching the Brit for a few more moments before the man finally gave in and led him over to the bed. The second he got within distance his paws were on the side of the bed and Price had to pull him off with another quietly whispered, “Nein.” Again the dog’s head tilted like he didn’t understand before Price whispered, “Sitz.” That was an easy one to remember at least.

Immediately the dog’s butt hit the ground and Price dropped the lead before turning his attention back to your sleeping form. You’d curled up against the wall covering your face with one forearm to block the light from the window. John moved to the end of the bed, lifting one foot at a time as he slid the boots off your feet and set them at the foot of the bed. Cerberus was watching him intently but he ignored the dog as he worked to make you more comfortable.

The pants you’d donned were his next project as he popped the button and slid the zipper down. Hooking his fingers into the waistband he pulled at them gently, his eyes watching your face carefully to make sure he wasn’t about to wake you up by accident. He guessed you were out pretty hard though as he tossed the jeans onto the boots and you never even moved save for when he had to lift your hips up for you.

He elected to leave your shirt on, it would be too hard to get it off of you while you were asleep and he still didn’t want to disturb you. Instead he set himself to arranging your limbs one at a time to pull the sheets of the bed down and lay them over your body. He backed up slowly, eyeing your almost lifeless form before he stripped his own shirt off over his head.

Using the tap he cleaned the sweat off himself as best he could, running his head under the faucet to wet his hair and cool himself off. When he turned back around Cerberus was standing again, two feet up on the bed and about to jump up before John quietly growled out, “Nein!” The Dutch Shepherd turned his head to look back, his wagging tail immediately stopping as he backed off and let out a huff. Since when do dogs give attitude?

Cerberus stared him down for a few moments before sitting back down with a seeming rumble from his chest. John let out a sigh of relief and tossed the towel he’d been using to wash off into the hamper in the corner. Shedding his pants he threw them in as well and made his way across the room to crawl up onto the bed at your back. Cerberus made a move behind him and he saw the dog coming up on his left about to try to get into the bed again.

His hand whipped out grabbing the collar and lead still attached to it, using it to guide Cerberus around his back and to his right at the foot of the bed. Unclipping the lead he threw it over your pants and boots. A whine started to come from the dog at being forcefully moved before John gave him a hard look and whispered, “What did I tell you? One more noise and you’re gone. My room, my rules, kid.” Cerberus huffed again and hopped up to the foot of the bed almost begrudgingly.

A stiff nod of his head and John climbed into the bed behind you, pulling the sheet up around you both and he pressed himself against your back. When you moved he tensed up, eyes widening as he went completely still. But you just rolled over, eyes cracking open for barely even a heartbeat before shutting again. Your face buried into his bare chest, taking in a deep breath before you wrapped your arms around his torso and threw a leg over his hip. The heel of your foot pushing his hips closer to yours.

John waited until you went still again before he slid his arm down underneath your head where it was still nestled into his chest. His other hand pressed into your lower back, pulling you somehow closer. Cerberus walked over his feet at the end of the bed before moving around to your back. He shot a warning glare to the dog but he just kept going until he was near your head and then laid down quietly, his head finding its place on your side just above where John’s arm was wrapped around you. It didn’t take long once everything was settled down for the Brit to fall asleep as well, content to hold you in his arms all night for the first time in eight months, eight bloody months.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

I don't know if you all saw the reblog I made yesterday on here but look at this gorgeous piece of art that @foreverrunningfree made!!!! I love him!

Part 7

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 14.9k

Synopsis: My boy getting some clothes, got some op planning, and then the op itself of course

Warnings: Violence and cursing but when is that not present in a COD fic really?

Light streamed in through the open blinds of the window casting the bunkhouse in the early morning sun. The black and brindle furred radiator breathed deep beside you still deep in sleep, a few light snores even coming from his dark muzzle. It was a peaceful sound, one you'd grown used to after years of living your entire life around those animals. The snores put you at ease, lulled you back into a half-sleeping state, your mind still not quite ready for the day to begin. Dreams called to you, the sound of a sleep filled voice that you'd never actually even heard before rattling around in your mind. What you wouldn't give to hear John this early in the morning.

A loud buzz came from across the room rattling your thoughts around in your skull nearly as much as it rattled the table. Who the hell? And then you remembered, your phone was broken, you were on a military base in a bunkhouse with a Lieutenant whose face you'd never even seen. And not to mention the fact you'd interrogated a man the evening before. Must be Laswell calling everyone in for the target package and op briefing. You lifted your head up to peek over Cerberus’, searching for the perpetrating phone and its owner. Another buzz filled the room a few seconds later and you finally saw the masked face turn into the pillow before he reached for the short bedside table and knocked it off to effectively cease the ringing.

Ghost was definitely not a morning person it would seem. At least not when it was someone else doing the waking for him. You couldn't relate, well to be fair you rarely slept especially when it was just you and Cerberus. Your eyes turned down to the big dog you had wrapped your arms around beside you. A thin sheet up to your hip and a quarter way up his long body as well. Cerberus was the only living thing you'd actually admit to loving but you had to admit, sleeping next to him sometimes was near torturous. Sweat slicked your body, casting a musk of you up into the air despite the shower you'd taken last night. Surprisingly you'd actually made it all the way to the bed last night though you'd been sure you were going to come short there a few times. Time to get up now though, he wasn't up soon but the Lieutenant at the other side of the room would be awake at some point and you weren't going to have him waiting on you if you could help it.

Stretching your free arm you heard your shoulder pop, the pain hitting you a moment later as you winced, letting it slowly subside in your mind a few seconds later. You slid your other arm slowly out from underneath the dog’s neck and rolled to your back, taking a few deep breaths. You’d spooned him all night, the Dutchie always enjoyed being the little spoon if there was room for him to be. The moment he felt you sitting up though his snores went quiet and he was wide awake. Tail thumping hard against your thigh as his big head lifted. You watched him slide off the bed and circle once on the floor before he shook his fur out, tongue lolling as he panted, ready for the day. Chocolate eyes found you then as you stretched your still aching muscles, glancing down at the unbandaged wounds to make sure they still looked relatively normal. You should probably go see Soap before this mission started, the last thing you needed was for these to get infected because you were too busy getting your ass eaten in the Captain's office.

The thought made your cheeks warm, body reacting to the mere memory of him kneeling between your thighs. Even as you shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, you bit at your bottom lip trying to suppress your body's reaction. When your feet found the ground though Ghost shot up from his place in bed, sitting bolt upright with his fists clenched. His chest was bare and he was taking in deep, heaving breaths as he stared across the room at you. You didn’t move for a few seconds, just staying quiet as he came out of his nightmare and remembered the two of you were bunkmates. No stranger to them yourself you gave him his space, giving him the time he needed. Cerberus crossed to his side of the room, tongue lolling as he sat about a foot away from the now calming Lieutenant. The hazel eyes flicked from your face to the Dutchie and you watched as Ghost relaxed again into the mattress, seeming to center himself as he reached a hand out to pet the patiently waiting dog.

Cerberus stepped closer slowly and you took advantage of the few moments of quietness to stand up, stretching your legs as you did. Tilting your head to pop your neck and stretch your back out as well. A quick glance out the window and you caught sight of John leaving his bunkhouse across the small path, definitely a call from Laswell to get going then. He glanced up at the window and paused on the steps, taking in your nearly naked form. Clothed only in a pair of underwear and framed like a postcard by the window frame. A small smile turned up your mouth as you watched him frozen in place, thoughts running through your mind of the show you could have given him if it wasn’t for Ghost laying down barely ten feet away.

Unwilling to break his gaze from you though, you moved a little closer to the window and leaned on the wood. Your forearm bracing against it as you watched his burning gaze across the way taking in everything he could get his eyes on. Your free hand reached up, scratching against the coarse hair of your growing beard. His hand instinctively mirrored yours, reaching up to run across the brunette hairs of his own. A smile found your face as the fingers ran down your neck, stopping at the dip between your pecs. You flattened your palm against the short hairs on your chest, seeming to scratch absent mindedly at the skin all while the Brit across the way watched. Leaning against the railing on the stairs with what you knew was a smirk on his face. He always had a smirk on his face.

Suddenly his head flicked to the side and his attention was stolen from you much too soon. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him continuing down the stairs and then heading off down the path. Leaving the sight of you in the window behind without so much as a second glance. Shit, were you really that bad of a sight this early in the morning? What could he have- Your internal question was cut off by a knock at the door. Eyes from all sides of the room shot to it and you stepped back from the window.

A quick glance Ghost's way told you he had no idea what was going on so it probably wasn't Soap then, or normal. Moving across the room you pulled open the door, staring at a pale blonde nearly as tall as you. He was holding several sets of clothes in his hands as his brows raised questioningly, “Speck I presume?” Well he sounded a bit pretentious with his British accent and perfectly kept appearance. You nodded in answer and he handed the clothes out to you, “Laswell said that these were to go to you.” Taking them slowly you inspected all of them, there were enough fatigues for every day of the week and just as many sets of casual clothes for blending in. She had gone all out it seemed. Not to mention the numerous fresh pairs of underwear, thank God for that because who knew how much longer yours would have lasted.

Setting them down on the table next to the door you gave him a polite smile, “Thanks. Wade yeah? Laswell mentioned you handled all this stuff,” he smiled and gave you a quick nod. You reached a hand out towards him, shaking his hand firmly as he clasped yours. “Nice to meet you, Wade. She said I should talk to you about Cerberus’ food too, you handle all the supplies and stuff for the team?” The man nodded as he held up a finger to stop you from asking anything else, retreating down the steps quickly.

The man grabbed a big bag of food off the ground and hauled it up the stairs towards you, “Is this good? It’s all we have on base right now.” He dropped it into your open arms and you nodded a quick answer, barely able to wrap your one good arm around the huge bag. As you stepped back Cerberus let out a couple loud barks. There was one thing that dog knew for sure and it was what a bag of dog was.

As you set the bag down next to the leg of the table his tail waved excitedly behind him. The Dutchie made his way over to inspect it as you returned your gaze to the blonde still outside the door, “Also I handle laundry for the team. So while you’re here just know I’ll be doing it once a week. Today is laundry day. I know you and the rest of the squad are supposed to be getting called in today though so if you don’t leave anything out don't worry I’ll just grab anything that smells out of your duffel.” You gave a quick nod before he added, “But I'll get a hamper for your bunkhouse before you get back, please use it. I'm not a maid." Well that was amusing considering that was exactly what he sounded like. But no need to cause trouble, you simply gave him another polite nod before he continued, "It’s my job to keep you supplied with anything you need so just let me know whenever you’re running low on something. I'll get it as soon as possible.”

You gave an amused huff and nodded in answer, “Sounds good man. I could actually use a new phone if you can handle that. Oh! And a pack of smokes, are we allowed to smoke on base?” The blonde man nodded and pulled out a notepad from his chest pocket along with a pen and started the list quickly. “And another vest and lead for Cerberus, his spares got ruined,” another quick nod of the blonde head as you tried to think of anything else you might need. “Only other thing I can think of is another pair of shoes, lost mine a couple months ago but other than that-”

A deep, sleep-wrecked voice behind you cut you off before you could even thank the man, “We have to go Speck. Get ready." His chest pressed against your back as he leaned around the door and cast a glare at the blonde outside, "Fuck off Wade.” The masked man shut the door in the man's face and you turned to glance back at Ghost a bit incredulously. The Lieutenant didn’t even bother to look at you though, instead moving back to his side of the room as he grabbed his clothes and started getting dressed, “He’s an idiot. Don’t talk to him,” he grumbled out as he buttoned his pants and started searching his duffel for something.

Your head shook at the statement but you didn’t bother to say anything in opposition. Wade’s problems with the rest of the team weren’t about to become yours as well. Looking through the clothes you’d been given you stripped out of the underwear and pulled on the freshest clothes you’d had in months. The feeling of clean fabric against your skin was heavenly, you had to admit. It had been too long since you'd worn freshly cleaned, brand new clothes. Way too fuckin long.

Ghost waited until you’d both finished making up your bed before getting your attention with a quiet grunt and nodding to the door as he opened it. You threw the other sets of fresh clothes on the bed, leaving the duffel open at the foot of it so Wade could find it when he needed to later today. “Fuss Cerberus,” the Dutchie attached himself to your hip as you hooked his lead to his collar and followed Ghost outside. Even in the early morning hours it was still suffocatingly hot, but it was better than the alternative mid-day hours.

You had to adjust to the longer strides but you quickly fell into step beside him as he led you through the maze of halls. Surprisingly it was back to the same door you’d followed John through the evening before. He punched in a string of numbers and pushed the door open, holding it for a second to make sure you didn’t get locked out as he headed inside. It was a surprisingly kind gesture you hadn’t expected from the mostly mute and faceless man. Huh, maybe he knew that you’d seen him and Soap the other day and didn’t want you blabbering to anyone else about it.

Wasn’t your business to blab either way though and you were more than content to mind your own. Thinking of the loud Scotsman, as you walked in you saw him and Gaz both with fake guitars in hand and standing in front of the couch with their eyes intent on the TV. The dark-skinned Brit was holding a fork in his mouth while his fingers flew across the different colored buttons on the neck of the guitar. Empty plates sat in front of them, Soap’s fork still on his plate as Gaz’s yell was stifled with his lips still wrapped tightly around his own fork.

Meanwhile Watcher was on a handheld device with a microwave breakfast burrito in his freehand. As you walked behind the couch you caught a glimpse of the surprisingly large screen. You caught sight of a little gray cat in a suit with glasses and an eagle in a leather jacket talking to one another as you passed. Eyes following the image for just a moment before it was out of eyeshot.

Konig was sitting back reading quietly with a cup of something in his hand. Something hot by the looks of it and as you passed you recoiled at the strong smell of hot tea. His green eyes flicked up to you and narrowed but not in the same way the Lieutenant’s usually did. You got the impression he was giving you a smile underneath his black half mask. It immediately drew out your own polite smile in response, a reaction you couldn’t stop after years of being trained in the way of Southern politeness.

The sound of a fridge door opening caught your attention though as you turned to find Ghost opening the top door on the other side of the room that you’d failed to notice yesterday. Food sounded perfect right now, might as well get yourself something while you still can. The dark haired Scot’s outburst though broke your focus on the freezer as your eyes shot to the two Sergeant again, “Are ye feckin kiddin me!? How did ye- That’s-” Gaz was holding his fists up in victory with the guitar in one hand and his fork in the other while he stared at the TV.

He pushed Soap hard in the shoulder with a shit eating grin on his face, “Pay up Soap. That was the deal,” Gaz tossed the fork onto his plate sitting on the coffee table in front of them. Soap was glaring hard at the Brit as Gaz held out his hand and shook it with expectation. It was funny, you remembered seeing the same interaction at the bar all those months ago but it was Ghost who was getting paid then.

A stubborn shake of the Scot’s head though made it clear what his position was on the matter, “I amnae givin ye shite ye bastart. It isnae fair,” Watcher snorted from his chair, glancing up from what he was doing for just a second. Long enough to see Soap cross his arms over his chest still holding his guitar in his hand in a white knuckled grip. You swore his face was getting redder by the second.

The Lieutenant shut the door on the microwave and turned around, narrowing his eyes as he leaned back against the counter. But even that couldn’t break your attention away from the unfolding scene in front of you. Gaz dropped his guitar onto the couch, his lip curling up in frustration, “You made the bet, Soap. What are you even talking about?” Soap shook his head and the other Sergeant threw up his hands, “Are you serious, mate? You lost fair and square, Soap!” The pitch of his voice was climbing an octave, his frustration growing by the second. Things were about to get dicey if someone didn’t cut in here in a second.

Finally, you managed to move yourself towards the refrigerator in search of a quick and hot meal for breakfast even as you heard Soap give an answering, “I dinnae ken what yer talking about. Ya cheated ye bawbag,” Gaz scoffed and his hand hit his chest like he’d been struck there. Your own eyebrows raised in surprise at the insult, widened eyes flicking between the two men and just waiting for the shoe to drop. Soap tossed his guitar on the couch as well and grabbed his plate off the table, turning his back on the Brit with a huff of anger.

For all of a second before Ghost cleared his throat and the Scot froze in place, his shoulders visibly tensing underneath his shirt. Another quick clearing of his throat and Soap turned to look at Ghost over his shoulder. The way his eyes found the Lieutenant was something akin to fear but not quite. The big man was staring at the Scot with an intensity unlike anything you’d ever seen before and Soap’s lips flattened into a thin line as he shifted nervously underneath that gaze. “Pay the man, Johnny,” the Scot seemed to deflate when Ghost gave the order. His head tilted back as he sighed so loud you could hear it from across the room. The air left his lungs in a rush as he did so.

Soap tossed the paper plate into the trash and dug into his pocket, fishing something out of the depths. When his hand pulled out and he extended it towards Gaz, palm opened in the offering. The other Sergeant was quick to snatch away his prize and you barely caught sight of the little bag full of what looked like candy. Maybe gummy bears? Or something made of gelatin at least.

Soap muttered something as he took a seat on the couch, but you couldn’t hear it as the microwave went off and Ghost turned to take out his breakfast burrito. Oh yeah you needed to eat something too, that’s why you were standing in front of the fridge. You opened the top door, inspecting the contents inside curiously. You’d never seen so many breakfast burritos in your life.

They weren’t even in the boxes anymore. Just shoved inside the freezer in their plastic wraps so you had no idea what you were going to be biting into in about two minutes. You pulled one out, almost afraid they were going to come toppling out on top of you when you did but they held steadfast. Unwrapping it you threw it into the microwave and punched in a few numbers before leaning back against the counter and waiting.

Ghost didn’t bother to find a seat, he just ended up standing beside a door. It wasn’t the one John had pulled you into yesterday evening though. Glancing towards that door you could see the light was on inside that room too. So that’s where he had disappeared off to this morning when you saw him leaving his bunkhouse.

When Laswell came through the door everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Ghost even stopped mid bite of his burrito with his mask shoved up to the bridge of his nose. Everyone stayed quiet as she moved to the door Ghost was standing beside and unlocked it with a key she pulled from the pocket of her windbreaker. When she turned back she glanced at everyone in turn, “Let’s go, we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

Soap didn’t hesitate to hop over the back of the couch getting cut off by Gaz’s long strides in front of him. The both of them nearly tackled each other in their haste to get to the door. Watcher pressed a button on his little handheld device as he stood up and knocked on John’s door a couple times. You watched as all the men stopped before they entered, each of their electronic devices being deposited one at a time onto a little shelf before they headed inside.

Your eyes shot behind you to the microwave with a little bit of annoyance as you saw the timer on the microwave was still at a minute. A sigh fell from your mouth before you followed the other men, you could get it later. You filed into the room behind the tall German, watching everyone sit like they’d been assigned seats. With how long they’d been together they probably had assigned themselves seats at this point. Well all of them except for Ghost who just stood at the far wall with his burrito still in his hand and mask still shoved up to the bridge of his nose. You could smell the food from here and your stomach growled in response. Damn, you should have made your food sooner.

Soap sat near the back of the table with Konig to his right. While Watcher was across from the tall German with Gaz sitting to his left. You took the seat on Konig’s right and across from Gaz, leaning back into the chair with your chin resting on your fist as you inspected the room quietly. There was a model of some kind of warehouse sitting at the head of the table that everyone seemed to be looking at with interest.

When the door opened again John stepped inside the room with a file in one hand and held up a burrito with a questioning look around the room, “Whose is this?” My God the man was a saint, the timer must have gone off as he was leaving his office. Perfect timing John, always the most perfect timing. You lifted your hand in response immediately and he tossed it over the table to you with a subtle smile. Then the brunette took his seat beside Gaz, his hands wiping along his thighs before he found Laswell, “Ready when you are Kate.” You turned your eyes to the front of the room as you set yourself to eating the steaming burrito.

Your mouth caught fire immediately and you watched Gaz across the table barely holding in a smile. The Brit across the table watched as you tried to breathe your way through the pain. It felt like you were exhaling literal fire as you huffed a few times. When a large hand smacked you on the back you turned a look of shock on the man next to you. Sucking in a gasp of air at the pain and searing your throat even more than before. You saw him put a fist to his mouth even with the mask already covering it, “Oh Scheiße! I thought you were choking. I'm sorry Speck,” you forced the hot food down your throat and coughed a couple times to ease the burn.

You waved him away and shook your head, “Oh don’t worry about it.” You coughed again and cleared your singed throat with a shake of your head. “No worries Konig,” you turned away and towards Laswell then to avoid letting the tall man see your wince. Shifting against the back of the chair, still feeling the sting from where his blow had landed. If that was him trying to help you, you had no intention of ever finding out what it felt like when he was aiming to actually cause harm.

The blonde woman looked up from the laptop she was working on and cast John a smile, ignoring the little interruption that you and Konig had caused. “You’re always ready John, it’s one of your redeeming qualities.” Your eyes glanced back and forth between them as you continued to dig into your burrito, turning in the chair to let Cerberus settle between your legs as he looked up at you. Laswell stood up straight after a second longer of typing, hitting a button on the remote she was holding as an overhead projector turned on. Then she turned her attention to the group of men gathered around the table, “The man we captured in Pakistan was Labeeb el-Haider. An ex-resistance faction member from Pakistan, a General according to Speck.”

Eyes found you as you tilted your chin down, passing off a chunk of your burrito to Cerberus. It wasn’t the first time you had used him to avoid the stares from others. Attention was not something you often sought. Laswell didn’t wait for you to look up before she continued, “He was a well of information following your interrogation by the way Speck. We just mentioned your name and he was telling our translator whatever we wanted to know.” Eyes flicked to you from around the room again but you were staring straight ahead at Laswell. Labeeb had really fucked himself bringing up the Admiral.

“We now have an ID on our head of operations,” the picture changed from Labeeb to a face that felt familiar. You sat forward in the chair, narrowing your gaze as you tried to place it. “Amaan al-Mustafa,” you snorted and shook your head as you sat back. That face was familiar for a fuckin reason and now you remembered why. Laswell turned a curious look to you, one eyebrow cocked in question. And when you looked away quickly you noticed the others had their eyes trained on you once more as well. Damnit they’d just forgotten about you. Just had to laugh like an idiot in the middle of a meeting didn’t you, son of a bitch.

You shook your head in answer but she didn’t continue like you’d hoped she would. Laswell was clearly waiting for you to explain yourself now. Clearing your throat you answered her silent question as quickly as you could, “Amaan al-Mustafa, I know him. Well I know his face. He was at the market when it was bombed.” John turned towards you then, curiosity in his eyes as his hands clasped one another on top of the table. They were all waiting for you to explain how the hell you knew that it seemed.

Laswell narrowed her eyes at you though and you were quick to clarify, “He was posing as a guard. Could have killed me with a gun and been sure I was goin down. Then he still tried to do it with a bomb. Just thought it was funny, sorry,” she glanced at the picture still being projected. Missing your small shrug, but as you explained your awkward laugh and seemingly poor sense of humor they all turned back to the woman at the front of the room. Your interruption had obviously caused her to be thrown off her game somewhat though, at least for a moment.

When she flicked to the next picture everyone went quiet once more, “This is where Amaan is apparently holed up right now. It’s in the heart of Zabol’s warehouse district, and we got the schematics for it last night.” This op wasn’t looking very heavy-rollout friendly right now, “I had a model made to help plan the op but we’ll have to move fast. Labeeb was kind enough to inform us that they are going to be moving off-site soon.” She gestured towards the model setup at the head of the table.

John sat forward as he looked it over, pulling the top off to inspect the inside of the building. His beard twitched as his jaw worked, deep in thought as he moved pieces in his mind like it was a game of chess. “We’ll need a quick entry and escape. The building being in the heart of Zabol’s warehouse district means a pretty quick response time from local law enforcement.” There were sounds of agreement from around the table before John asked, “Do we have any details on security measures?” His eyes shot up to Laswell questioningly.

The woman nodded quickly as she answered, “As far as we know there isn’t anything strong enough to resist a breaching charge, and no high tech security that was on the schematics. You’ll just have to contend with ground forces and whatever doors you come across.” She took a seat at the table next to you, still watching John as he worked through everything in his mind.

The Brit glanced down the length of the table at Watcher, “You’ll be our getaway driver then. Don’t want you in the line of fire if you don’t need to be.” The ginger gave the Captain a thumbs up as John’s eyes turned back to the model and he stood up. Moving around to the front of the table to get a different angle on the model he stood quietly. His hands reached up absently as if he was going to hook his thumbs into the straps of his tac vest but it wasn’t there. The realization seemed to hit that he wasn’t actually wearing his vest yet and instead he braced himself against the side of the table.

You watched as he leaned down to inspect it closely, his hand reaching up to run over the side of his jaw before finally he spoke again, “We’ll split up in teams. Gaz and I will go up the outside stairs and clear the top floor. Ghost and Konig you’ll go in the front door and clear the bottom floor. Soap and Speck will go in through the back door here,” he pointed to the back of the model, “You’ll bypass most everyone to get to the stairs and then clear the second floor. We’ll hit them all at the same time” You leaned forward then, honestly that was more than surprising.

He was putting a gun in your hand and sending you into a building without even being on the team himself. John either trusted you or he didn’t trust himself, which one it was though remained a mystery to you. None of that mattered however. You were getting a shot at the man who tried to kill you and you weren’t in the habit of missing. It didn’t matter how you got to that point, only that you got there.

John continued a second later, “Ghost, Gaz, and Soap,” John made sure he had the three men’s attention before he continued, “Carry light breaching charges, we won’t have our packs. We’re going in light and quick,” there were quick nods of response from the men. John stood back up then and motioned for Ghost to join him at the head of the table. You’d nearly forgotten the big man was even in the room. John pointed to the lowest floor, “How long do you think it’ll take to clear?”

Ghost tilted his head in thought, “So long as nothing gets fucked I’d say two minutes max.” John nodded in answer and everyone around the table stood. All of you were moving to get a closer look at the floors you would be clearing.

Gaz was the next one to pipe up, “It shouldn’t take us, at most, a minute and a half.” John nodded his agreement as he inspected the top floor. “Push up here,” he pointed to a choke point in the hall, “a flash down the hall and then one in each of these rooms as we clear. We’ll be in and out the fastest probably.” He looked up at the brunette looking to see if he agreed with the assessment.

John was already nodding, “We’ll head down to the second floor to assist them when we’re done. Keep an ear on your comms,” he glanced at you and Soap. “It’ll take the longest time to clear the second floor with all the rooms and this door separating one half from the other. You’ll definitely need a breaching charge for that one.”

Soap nodded his agreement to John’s suggestion, “I’d say a heavy breaching charge, Price. I don’t think a light will do it.” John didn’t seem to like the sound of that as his mustache flicked up and he sucked in a breath. There wasn’t much he could do about it though as he gave a slow nod of agreement.

“Cerberus can keep it, he won’t get weighed down and he always has his vest anyway. That way Soap won’t have to worry about a pack,” you glanced between John and the Sergeant earning a beard twitch from the Captain and a smile from the other man. They both obviously liked the idea and besides, Cerberus would probably get thrown off if he wasn’t carrying something.

Glancing down at the second floor of the model you pointed to one of the rooms behind the security door and glanced at the sitting woman, “Are these sleeping quarters?” Laswell nodded an answer after she took a quick look at the rooms. “If he’s in there it’ll be hard to take him alive. There’s a lot of places to hide and there are likely to be a lot of people in there,” you glanced around at the circle of men. Soap nodded his agreement even before John did.

Without glancing up at you the Captain pointed towards the dog then, “That’s why we’re putting you with Soap on the second floor. Cerberus can detain a hostile so long as there isn’t too much foot traffic, yeah?” You gave a quick nod when he finally looked up at you, “Should give you a bit of an edge then.” John put the top back on the building then and crossed his arms over his chest, “When we get the HVT we’ll exfil through the first floor where Ghost and Konig have cleared through and out the back door. Watcher will be waiting out there with our getaway van.”

The ginger nodded quickly and that was it. There was no room for further discussion as the team all seemed to agree on what they would all be doing. It was going to be weird working with someone else after so long. You could only hope it would be like riding a bike. Time to get geared up and get after the man who had tried to murder you.

As you followed the team out of the squad room they led you back across base towards the bunkhouses. Confusion was beginning to set in but before you could wonder aloud they stopped in front of a small building you'd overlooked on your first few days here. But looking back you suddenly remembered it was where a few of the guys had disappeared to when you first got back to the base.

Price punched in a code next to the door and then shoved a key into the lock before he pulled the door open and held it. The team filed in quickly with you and Cerberus hot on their heels, the Captain stepping in behind you. The guys split up into their individual cages, each man with their own key as they set themselves to getting their gear ready. Leaving you to watch quietly in the middle of the room.

Damn if this didn't bring back memories though. Your chest was beginning to feel heavy with the thoughts of the last time you’d been in a room like this. Gearing up for an op that should have been an easy knockout and had instead sent your entire life spiraling out of control. You saw their old faces, burnt and bloody, in those of the other men around you and it made your palms feel clammy. The muscles of your back were starting to tighten in response to the anxiety currently pouring off of you in waves.

It was hard to swallow your throat felt so tight and the dog at your side could sense that something was off. Even as you actively hid it behind that careful mask he was pressing into your leg with his whole body, a velcro dog if there ever was one. His familiar warmth and weight a comfort as it always had been. Since the moment you'd first taken him with you Cerberus has never failed to keep you sane. You had found him at the lowest point in your life and keeping him alive, keeping him safe, was the only thing that had ensured your survival back in the worst of those dark days.

You barely even heard the sound of the door opening again behind you before a familiar voice caught your attention. Dragging you out of your own dark thoughts by the ankles and forcing you to pay attention. You turned to find the blonde from this morning, holding more than a few items as he sat them on the table beside you. "This is for you, Speck. Standard issue gear, you just have to sign for it since it's a loan out," he held up a clipboard to you. You stared down at the line that was awaiting your legal signature. Awaiting the name you hadn't heard from anyone in years and had honestly forgotten then sound of.

When you looked back up at him though he could see the slight tilt of your head and the humor in your eyes. Yeah that shit wasn't happening. Thankfully John stepped out of his cage though, grabbing the clipboard from Wade and the pen before he put a hastily scribbled signature on the blank line. "I'm signing for all his stuff Wade," the blonde glanced down and for a moment you swear he was about to refuse. To say something in opposition to the commanding Brit in front of you, but the look currently being leveled at him made him think better. Well he wasn't a complete idiot, not always anyway.

Wade gave a slow nod and turned another look to you, "Any preference on your loadout? I can't do any modifications really, but I can outfit you with something standard for the time being." John stepped back into his cage then, he'd done his job for now it seemed. Your eyes followed him as you watched him pull his vest on, setting himself to buckling and velcroing respectively. Keeping his focus on getting ready like you should have been doing but seemed unable to do. The sinking feeling that you'd have to suffer through everything again pressed into your gut like a knife. Twisting into you and souring your face even through the mask.

Keep your distance, Speck, don't get close cause then it gets messy. You'd told yourself that for two years now. Repeated that mantra in your head every single time you were forced into work with someone. And yet the second you'd gotten here you'd forgotten it all. Forgotten the pain that had come with the loss of that close bond you had with your brothers, with the SEALs who fought at your back.

You had thrown yourself directly back into the line of fire the moment it had been John standing at that door and not one of the others. Anyone else and you'd have shot first consequences be damned, anyone else would have been lying on that pavement bleeding out while you made your way to the nearest vehicle you could hot wire. But it hadn't been anyone else and now look where you were, exactly in the place you needed to avoid. Don't get attached, Speck. Keep everyone at arm's length cause if you don't it'll come crashing down around you. Get out of your head now, you had a job to do and you would do it. Focus on the job, not the people you were running it with. Stop thinking about the fuckin Brit and focus you-

A clearing of a throat beside you caught your attention and once more forced you out of your own swarming thoughts. You turned that look of nonchalance back to the blonde, blinking a couple times as you cleared your head. "Yeah, you got a PDSW 528? Short range sights?" You had always preferred either an LMG or a submachine gun. Quick and accurate or fast and dirty, those were your only two modes and it showed in your choice of weapons. Wade pulled out his little notepad with a nod before you added, "And a 9mm would be good. X12?" It felt like ordering from McDonald's as you watched him nod again and write it down in his notepad. He turned like he was about to go before you stopped him, "Oh I'll need a first line EOD kit as well. And I like to roll with four flashes and two grenades usually too," the blonde seemed to hesitate then.

His eyes shot to the Captain behind him in his cage getting, at first, a sigh of annoyance from the Captain before the brunette nodded in response and Wade wrote that down as well. He slid the pen and notepad into his chest pocket and gave you a half smile, "Be back in a few minutes." He left through a side door then, stopping at another keypad to punch numbers into for only a moment before he disappeared.

You turned back to your newly assigned gear and gave it a once over before you started to pull it on. They were outfitting you with a tactical vest, a helmet, a radio, some ear protection, shooting glasses, a thigh holster, and a small pouch that would attach to your tac vest. It'd been a long time since you had been given a full setup. God it'd been two years since someone had outfitted you with an actual team radio and ear protection. And then of course you'd been given a new harness for Cerberus to boot with its own body length pack for anything you needed for him to carry. It was even the same style that you usually used so at least you wouldn't have to adjust to anything there.

Inspecting it closely you checked every buckle, every strap, hell every seam on it. There was no way you were gonna trust anyone else to assure Cerberus' safety, not this time and not this dog. "Hopp," you patted the table and the big Dutchie hopped up easily, standing eye level with you on top of the tall piece of furniture. The dog certainly looked his part with his thick fur, straight back, hard muscle, and proud stance. A sight that could strike fear if you saw that missile streaking towards you.

You unhooked his lead as you strapped the new vest on him. It was as black as the stripe of fur running from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. And it blended in perfectly until it met with his deep, russet, fawn colored sides and their brindle patterning. There were three handles on the back portion, one close to his neck running perpendicular to him and another near the end of his back with the same orientation. The other handle ran parallel with Cerberus' spine ensuring no matter how you and the dog were standing you would always have control over him if you needed it.

Lifting him up you watched him go limp, the seventy five pounds of muscle completely pliant in midair. The handles held fast and you let out a breath, taking a close look at the harness one last time before Soap wandered over. He held up the heavy breaching charge and you tilted your head at it as you took it from him. It was bulkier than you'd initially expected but you could make it work. "Hopp," you issued the command again and Cerberus was at your eyes again with Soap watching. You grabbed the small pack meant to attach to Cerberus' vest and zipped it up inside before buckling it onto the harness and giving it a hard tug to make sure it wasn't going anywhere.

The second you and Soap both saw it stick easily he headed back to his cage to finish what he was doing. Just in time too because a moment later Wade returned. He placed the weapons down in front of you along with an ammo box and a few magazines for each of the weapons. Then he slid the flashes, grenades, and EOD kit into the little pouch before zipping it up and helping you attach it to the vest. "Anything else?" He asked quickly and you shook your head in answer, watching him basically run out of the room before he was assigned with something else to do. You had a feeling he was probably overworked and very underappreciated if Ghost’s earlier reaction to him was anything to go by.

As you finished loading the magazines and sliding them into their respective pockets on the vest a hand clapped you on the shoulder. You turned to find Soap's blue smiling eyes, "I'll put some fresh bandages over those stitches on the way there since you never came to see me last night." A quick answering smile and a nod and you slid the pistol into the thigh holster. "Why was that by the way? Ye trying to get them infected or something?" His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously as you steadfastly avoided them.

Attaching Cerberus' lead to the new harness John's loud voice rang out, "Let's go!" Saving you from answering the hard question, you could act with the best of them but good God you couldn't lie. The team filed out, everyone geared up to go into hell and back twice over.

-------

The car ride was long, especially with everyone packed into the same van. At least this time though it wasn't as small as the last minivan you'd been shoved into. Gaz was driving the cargo van for now, he'd switch places with Watcher whenever yall made it to the warehouse but it was safer to let him drive until you got there. You would have been the only option that was safer but you had no idea where you were or the roads to take to get there. And the Captain seemed more than content to keep it that way for now.

Everyone else other than the dark- skinned Brit was sitting in the back of the cargo van in varying degrees of wakefulness. A false wall keeping you all close in, in case anyone got any ideas in regards to inspecting whatever you were hauling. Bags and crates had been set into the back just beyond the wall as cover should it be needed. The space you were all in was just big enough for y'all to fit comfortably. Though the addition of an extra person would be a bit of a tighter fit you would all manage. It was still better than sitting squished together in your tac vests with your weapons and gear in the back of a loaded down minivan whose shocks were about to give out at any moment.

Across from you Watcher was laying against Konig's side with one long, heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders. The tall German had leaned over to lay against Ghost as he was about the only one tall enough for him to use as a pillow. Soap had buried himself in the Lieutenant's other side, his face hidden by a rather large bicep. His face was basically shoved in the other man's armpit and while you wouldn't have dared to get close enough to touch him, watching the Sergeant do it was kind of…cute? Yeah, cute. Meanwhile Ghost was staring absently down at a phone in his hand, scrolling through whatever had taken his fancy at the moment though he didn't really seem all that interested in it truly.

You, Cerberus, and John were on the other side of the van, quietly looking ahead. It was a task in and of itself not to lean over to lay against him. To put yourself into a comfortable sleep like the three men across from you had. You could feel him next to you every time he shifted positions on the floor of the van. Every fiber of your being wanted to touch him but there were way too many eyes. And not to mention when the undeniable urge for more set in there would be nothing either of you could do but suffer a round of blue balls in the middle of an all too important op. It wasn't worth the pain in truth. But God if he didn't look like a dream leaning back against the wall of the van, gun in his hands, and a boonie hat on his head. You had to admit that hat looked fitting on him. Like it was made to sit on only John Price's head. You highly doubted anyone else could have pulled it off, that much is for sure.

No, stop it. Job. Gun. Dog. You had an entire op still to get through, keep it together Speck. Quit thinking about him for two damn seconds please, for the love of God and everything else holy. Stop. So you tilted your head back, tuning out the world around you as Gaz took you to your destination.

A back alley that was a block away from your target building and just big enough for the van to fit into without tearing apart the sides. Watcher climbed into the front, dressed for the part in traditional thobe and taqiyah though nothing could really cover his undeniably pale skin and ginger hair. You could only hope no one looked too close into the darkened windows. Gaz joined all of you in the back as the false panel pushed open and you lined up in your respective teams of two.

John and Gaz would go first since they had to climb the stairs to the third floor. Then Ghost and Konig so they could engage at the front door first and draw attention away from you, Cerberus, and Soap going in through the back door. When John glanced back he got quick nods to indicate you were all ready and he pushed the back doors open.

Typically an op like this would have been done in the dead of night, but you couldn't wait that long. It was time sensitive and you'd already lost two days. The chances of your target no longer being there only increased with every minute you waited. So the sun sat on the horizon, sinking into the west but by no means was it nightfall. It wouldn't be for a bit, not yet.

The team stayed together until Ghost and Konig broke off first to head around the building. The rest of you continued around the back, John and Gaz turning the corner onto the street to head up the stairs to the top floor. You and Soap held on the back entrance, one on either side as you waited for the all clear to go. It was on Ghost's mark, whenever the Lieutenant decided to call it. Any second now. His deep voice finally came over the comms with a quick, "Breaching now." In the next couple of moments you heard the sound of voices inside becoming panicked.

Soap tried the door handle but the second he reached for it Cerberus let out a growl and you tensed, your arms already coming up as the door flung out and opened. Your eyes locked onto a face that was contorted in panic, eyes wide and mouth opening to let out a yell. Your hand shot to cover the mouth, slamming the man's head against the wall before you wrapped an arm around his throat and pulled him away from the door. It closed in the next moment and you saw Soap's look of surprise as your back found the wall. Arm locked around the man's neck as he struggled violently in your arms, kicking and trying to break your hold with wild elbows.

After some painful seconds though he finally slumped against you. You let him drop to the concrete as you watched Soap step forward, knife in hand. No witnesses it would seem. None who had seen your faces anyway. That was fine with you. When Soap moved back towards the door he waited until you tapped his shoulder before he moved inside.

No one else was in the halls but you could hear gunfire coming from the front door. Ghost and Konig's distraction was working out well it seemed. The Sergeant opened the stairwell door and you followed behind him, Cerberus at your hip. You kept an eye behind as Soap cleared upwards to the second floor, stepping backwards up the stairs in a cautious and steady rhythm. The door opened easily as the both of you moved quietly, the door of the second floor opening as you slipped inside. It was profoundly silent, almost unnervingly so.

It was so devoid of sound that when John's voice cracked through your headset you nearly jumped, "We've got the families on the third floor. They are saying Amaan is on the second floor. Soap and Speck I repeat Amaan is reportedly on the second floor. We cannot move to help you secure, too high risk with the families up here." Well there goes a wrench in that plan, it was just the three of you then, lovely.

Soap looked your way and took a step behind you as you raised your gun. Your eyes were trained ahead as you watched the hallway in front of you, glancing between each door quickly. Then you heard Soap answer, "Good copy, we'll get him if he's here." A hand tapped your shoulder and you moved forward at that cautious and steady pace. Clear each room and then blow the security door. Easy.

The first room was devoid of anyone. Much like the second, third, and fourth were. Your eyes shot to Soap who was either visibly nervous or confused, you couldn't tell in your own haze of thoughts. It was much too quiet for your liking and with a hitch already in your plan you didn't like the possibility of another. The second you opened the fifth door though bullets whizzed through the open doorway, both you and Soap scrambling away from it as chunks and splinters of wood dislodged. A belt fed heavy machine gun was eating away at the very wall. The fuck were they hiding in there that needed to be defended like that?

You reached for the pouch at your hip and pulled out one of the flashes. You made sure Soap saw it before you pulled the pin and tossed it through the hole that the person inside had shot through the drywall. Reaching down you unclipped Cerberus' lead in the next heartbeat and wrapped your fingers around one of the handles of the vest. The second that the flash went off you peeled around the corner, firing at the man holding his eyes behind the belt fed. You couldn't hear anything else inside the room but your neck prickled even after you felt Soap tap your shoulder to keep going. You held up a closed fist in answer and felt him freeze near your back. "Voran," you whispered and Cerberus darted around the room, tail waving behind him as he searched diligently.

When he stopped and sat down you lifted your gun higher, his eyes staring intently at a piece of plywood leaning against the wall around the corner. Your eyes shot to Soap, pointing towards it and he gave you a nod as you took up positions on either side. Both of you took a corner in your hand before glancing towards one another and pulling it off the wall. A shrill scream filled the air the second that light hit the small face. A child, a little girl, stared up at the two of you from the hiding place she'd been put in.

She tried to scramble further away, further back into the hole that had been cut into the wall but there was nowhere else for her to go. Even with her small size she barely fit inside. You couldn't move as you stared down at the face, it wouldn't have done any good anyway. There wasn't a little girl alive on the planet that didn't make you pause, and your palms sweat. They all reminded you of your own daughter, the one you hadn't seen in so long you doubted she even remembered you existed. That at one point you had actually tried. It always made you remember how terrible you'd been as a father, or at least how terrible your ex-wife had always made you feel. Always telling you that they deserved better, that your daughter needed an actual father not a man she saw maybe thirty days out of the year.

Children were not your strong suit. Just remember what your ex-wife told you. Stay away from them so you don't fuck them up more than you already had. It was easier than letting the stain of your existence cloud their lives forever. So you stepped back as Soap moved forward, whispering a quick, "Fuss," as you took up a position at the door. It'd be easier just to let him deal with her. You'd procreated but that didn't mean you were a dad or had any paternal instinct whatsoever.

The Sergeant spoke quickly to the little girl, his voice immediately soothing even to your ears, "Hey, it's ok. We aren't here tah hurt ye." He pressed the button of his radio as he coaxed the girl out of her hiding spot as gently as he could, "Got a little girl down here Price. You got a mom to match?" The Captain muttered something you didn't catch as Soap helped her out of the hole. "Hey, do ye understand me lass?" The little girl stared blankly at him, she didn't know English, at least not enough to answer him back. "Speck, does she understand ya?" The blue eyes found you at the door, barely keeping your expression neutral rather than full of the nerves that were about to make you sick.

There was a job to do though, so get it done Speck. You motioned to the door and switched places with the Scot, kneeling beside her and trying Farsi first, "Hey, do you understand me?" Light came to her eyes as she nodded quickly, and you smiled at her eagerness. "Good. We are not here to hurt you ok? We are looking for someone, do you think you can help me?" Her eyes flicked nervously towards Soap but she gave you a hesitant nod in answer, "Amaan al-Mustafa. Have you seen him today?" The little girl's face immediately fell into a frown so deep it aged her well beyond the eight or nine years she could count.

You didn't need to hear her say it, or see her nod, she'd seen him and she hadn't liked what she'd seen either. Her eyes were staring down at her feet, refusing to meet your gaze. God you hated seeing that look on her face, scared and just wanting to be held but not by some stranger. She wanted her mother like all children do. Hell it was probably her father currently laying on the floor dead right behind her. You glanced at Cerberus whispering, "Platz," as the dog sank to his belly beside you. Still speaking in Farsi you ran your hand over his head and smiled at the girl, "Would you like to pet the dog?"

"Yes!" Came her immediate response and her fingers immediately reached for the big dog, running her comparatively tiny hands over his head. It did its job in distracting her from the world she'd found herself in. And especially keeping her eyes off the man in the corner lying dead by your doing.

It kept her quiet and relaxed as you both waited for the Captain to get back to you. Not long after she started petting the dog you heard John finally answered, "We've got a woman here saying the girl is probably hers. Jasra?" She certainly looked and acted like a Jasra, brave and courageous even facing the horrors of war head on.

You were quick to repeat it back to the girl in a question, "Is your name Jasra?" Her eyes shot up to you and she nodded, "Would you like to go find your mother, Jasra?" Another eager nod as you glanced up at Soap who was already relaying to Price that it was in fact the girl's mother. "Come here, Jasra," you scooped the girl into your arm, glancing down at Cerberus with a quick, "Fuss," before joining Soap at the door of the room. "You get the breaching charge set, I'll be back in a second." The Scot nodded and unzipped the pouch at Cerberus' side, pulling out the heavy breaching charge before he moved towards the door. The two of you split up as you made your way back to the stairwell. "Captain go to the top of the stairs, I'm sending the girl up with Cerberus." A quick affirmative let you know he'd heard you as you opened the door of the stairwell.

A quick glance down and up let you know that the stairwell was still, thankfully, empty. Setting the girl down on her feet you gave her a reassuring smile as you took her hand and put it on the back handle of the Dutchie's vest. You hooked Cerberus' lead back onto the harness before pulling it off your waist and putting it in the girl's free hand. "Keep your hands here until you get to the man at the top of the stairs, ok?" She nodded quickly and you glanced up as the door above you opened.

Pressing the button on your comm you quickly told the Captain, "Call Cerberus." A second later the big black head lifted curiously, glancing up as he heard his name come from above. "Say hier," the dog's eyes shot to you, his head tilting as John repeated the command above you. He seemed unsure since it wasn't your voice giving the command but a quick, "Again," and the command sounding from John's mouth overhead and he took off with the little girl up the stairs.

Cerberus paused for just a second to glance back, making sure you weren't about to scold him, but when you said nothing he kept going. Closing the door you headed back down the hall towards Soap. "Keep him with you Captain, we're breaching the security door now," you said into the comm before you lined up across from Soap and gave the Scot a nod. The charge blew inwards in the next second and the two of you continued inside.

Three men went down outside any of the rooms the second that you tossed in a flashbang and pushed through the security door. He stuck to one side of the hallway while you stayed on the other side, covering one another in an x-pattern from across the hall. You ducked into your room first, one guy going down nearly immediately and the other trying desperately to dive for the cover of a desk before you put two rounds into him as well. You exited your room just before Soap came out of his, the both of you continuing down the hall in the same pattern.

Your next room was empty save for a few beds, but you heard more than a few shots from Soap’s side of the hallway. You stayed in your doorway, waiting for the Scot to be finished. Just as he rejoined you the next door on his side of the hallway cracked inward and a guy aimed your way out of the door, firing blindly around it. You put four rounds through the wood and heard a yell on the other side as the shooting stopped. The both of you moved forward together before Soap ducked into his side finishing off the guy you'd already downed and you stepped into yours.

The first thing you saw was the gun, the second thing you saw was the woman whose head it was being held to. The next thing you saw was the man behind her and his familiar face. Your HVT. Laswell wanted him alive, she’d said that multiple times as you all headed out, but shit happens right? Your ticking clock was already nearing the red zone anyway, it'd taken you and Soap too long to deal with the girl especially without the help of Gaz and Price like you had originally planned. And with Ghost and Konig busy making sure shit didn't hit the fan outside the building before you were all ready to leave there hadn’t been anyone else who could help the both of you secure the second floor.

As Soap exited into the hallway behind you, you heard him call your name. Just a simple callsign, but the man in front of you finally seemed to recognize just who the hell you were. The gun pointed your way in a second as he fired off a shot, inaccurate thanks to the woman he was still holding. You saw the panic in his eyes then, the gun shaking in his hand before he yelled in Farsi, "Back up!" There was still no shot on him and the gun was leveled at the woman once more. Either you comply or you sign her death warrant. Damn if you didn't wish you could put your signature on that blank line, but she was innocent and while you’d done monstrous things you weren’t inherently a monster yourself. This woman was not a player in all of this. She was being used just like most of the women upstairs had been, they didn’t ask to be in this situation.

Comply. You backed up a step and watched as he pushed the woman forward slowly in tandem with each of your steps. Soap was to your left on the side of the door, biding his time surprisingly patiently. Waiting to strike. He wasn’t destined to get it though as the man tossed the woman through the open door and slammed it shut behind her.

You immediately went for the doorknob jiggling the metal quickly as Soap wrangled the woman to the wall, checking her for weapons. You ignored the both of them as you glared at the locked door in front of you. Glass shattered on the other side of the door and you backed up a step before Soap moved to stop you, "Wait!" You hesitated as the Sergeant continued, his hand wrapped around the woman’s arm keeping her in sight at all times, "Man could have a bomb in there, Speck." Your eyes shot back to the closed door, eyes narrowing at the object between you and the man who had tried to kill you.

The desire for vengeance burned deep though as your glare shot back to the Scot. You then answered him cooly, "Better start running then, kid." Gaelic curses and insults followed you as your foot slammed into the door with a hard kick, busting the frame in as you pushed inside. Your gun leveled aimed head level but there was no one else in the room, just a busted window in front of you. Head empty of thought except for two words, 'Fuck it,' you took off after him. At least until Soap's hand grabbed your wrist and he stopped you dead in your tracks just before you painfully wrenched your still healing arm. "What the fuck are-" you stopped when you noticed what the man was looking at.

A case sat at the foot of the bed. It was unopened but there wasn't much else it could be other than the word currently running through your mind, ‘Bomb.’ Your head hit the clouds, too much had run through your mind before this whole thing started. Too much that was too similar to what had ended your last career.

Christ you'd even sent Cerberus away with someone else and now it was going to happen again. You were going to lose it all and it was going to be your fault. At least this time you wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of a monumental fuck up though, huh? The jostling of your injured shoulder pulled you out of your frozen state as Soap shot a glare at you and started to pull you with him along with the woman, "Come on we've got to get the fuck out of here. There is no telling what will set that thing off." That was probably best, yeah. For anyone else anyway.

Part of you truly wanted to follow him, to just leave without worrying about anyone else in the area but you couldn't. Not when you'd already let two of these things go off in the middle of the market because you hadn’t been paying attention. There was no telling how bad this one would be. How many people would die if you stepped away again? That wasn’t something you were willing to go to Hell with on your hands. Your suffering was already gonna be bad enough with that. "Price local law enforcement are gonna be here any second," Ghost’s voice came through your headset.

It distracted Soap long enough for you to pull your arm free and reach for your EOD kit. Squatting down at the foot of the bed even as he let out another string of Gaelic curses. John’s voice came through the headset next, "Soap status on the HVT?" After this was over you really needed to get him to say that more. It sounded truly adorable coming from him with that accent. You could just imagine him staring intently ahead as he asked for your status with that little hat sitting on his head. It brought a smile to your face even as you began inspecting the case.

The Scotsman backed up a couple steps as he watched you begin carefully. Running your hands over the sides of the case as you checked for triggers on the outside. "Potential bomb Price. HVT is gone though, we'll need the family," you could practically hear everyone in the building cursing. You’d lost the only reason you’d come here and it was your fault. You should have been quicker. Should have gone after him. Should have done something more, whatever you could.

No, focus, there was a potential bomb in your hands, you couldn’t afford to be distracted by the shoulda, woulda, couldas. You flipped the top open slowly, still checking for any kind of wire or trigger as you went. As the lid finally opened all the way you sighed and muttered to the man behind you, "Not potential anymore Soap. Definitely a bomb. Get to running," you leaned up to examine it better, listening to the Scotsman relay the information to the rest of the team.

You could hear the approaching sirens literally counting down the time you had left to defuse this damn thing and get out even though there wasn’t a visible timer as of yet. John's commanding voice growled out orders though in your ear, "Everyone get to the van. Bomb isn't our problem, we're leaving." No, the bomb was most certainly your problem. They could leave if they wanted to, in fact you highly encouraged it. You'd rather not have their deaths on your hands when you met your maker.

Ghost didn't hesitate to answer with an affirmative. And Soap was about to as well when he noticed you still weren't moving. Instead you were pulling another tool out of the kit as you ran a delicate touch over a wire. "Speck, come on, we've got to go," he urged you vehemently. You shot him a look but stayed quiet, keeping the majority of your focus on the most pressing matters right now.

No timer meant remote detonation was most probable. Or some kind of trigger in the room maybe. Unless it was a timer but without a face in which case there was no telling how long you had left until it went kaboom. Another smile at the sound effect you made in your mind before Price's voice came through over your headset, "Soap, Speck, do you copy? We're regrouping on the van. It's time to leave." Soap remained stubbornly still right behind you as you worked, still holding the woman by her bicep as he actively refused to answer the man.

A sigh left you as you pulled away from the case and hit your radio growling out a quick, "Copy Cap." You shot another glare towards Soap before you went back to work. He still stayed stubbornly at your side. At least until you said in the calmest tone he'd ever heard for someone messing with a bomb, "You should leave Soap. Make sure the Captain gets Cerberus into the van for me. I'll be there as soon as I'm done here, alright?" He scoffed at that and shook his head.

The man put himself even closer instead with a stubborn look in his eye, "I mean it Soap. You don't even know me. Don't know my name, you don’t know the things I’ve done. I'm not worth you dying over, kid. Besides, your Lieutenant might kill me again if I get you killed too, so please do me a favor and head on out ok? And make sure everyone else gets far away from here." You had a small smile on your mouth as you cut one wire linking a series of secondary detonators to the blasting cap.

Soap watched, his eyes flicking between you, the bomb, and the broken window you had nearly jumped out of. The sirens were nearly outside the building now. Probably trying to get through the crowded streets to the building's location. Slowly he backed up and shook his head, "You better not die here Speck." You gave a low hum of affirmation as he found the door. "And don't get caught either, we'll find you alright?" Another low hum of agreement and Soap took off back down the hall with the woman in tow.

The calm had overtaken you by this point. Feeling the cool chill of ice rush through your veins that cooled your heated body and stopped the adrenaline coursing through you from causing your hands to shake. No more remote detonation, but there was still the timer with an unknown detonation time. The wires were making your head hurt, or was that the law enforcement outside with their raging sirens. No. No it had to be John's voice that was currently yelling into the comms, "Speck get your arse down to the van now!" Yeah, no problem Captain, be there in just a tick. Little bomb humor, it made you smirk as you kept going. Keep a hold of that one for later.

You traced the wire back to the timing device, blinking a couple times as you held it between your thumb and forefinger. Talented at EOD you were not, but you were competent. Still you weren’t completely sure you were correct in your choice this time. The seconds ticked by in your head as you looked down at it. Tracing it once more to double check you held the cutters up to the wire and pursed your lips. You only mess up once right? Fuck it.

The wire split in half and you waited for the bright light. The searing burn that came with the heat of a bomb and the fires of Hell. Instead there was a click from deeper inside the case. Your heart stopped and you sucked in a breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what did you miss? You'd checked every inch of that bomb, what could you have possibly missed? You’d already disconnected the remote detonator. And the secondary tripwire triggers. Nothing, you hadn't missed a single thing. Your uptick in heartbeat slowly calmed again as you realized the click had been the bomb disarming. Holy shit you hadn't just killed yourself and countless people. Oh thank fuck.

Time to get out of here before you got yourself killed. You grabbed your EOD kit and closed it up, loading your gear back into the pouch at your side. As you slung your gun over your shoulder you heard something clink behind you and turned just in time to see the small looking canister on the ground. Ah shit. It went off right before your eyes and everything went white, your ears ringing as it disoriented every sense you had.

Your head tumbled dizzily with vertigo and you felt yourself stumbling backwards through a minefield of obstacles. Hands grasping desperately for anything to hold onto and keep yourself from falling onto the floor of the room. When your knees buckled and you felt like you were free falling though you felt bile rise in your stomach. The fuck? It wasn’t a grenade, shit was a flashbang what the hell had just happened?

The drop was long and good God did it hurt the second your body hit the ground, nearly falling on your head. Where the fuck were you? What the hell was going on? The bile in your stomach rose again before you could stop it and you turned on an elbow, the few contents in your stomach spilling onto someone’s shoes that had rushed to help you before they too scrambled backwards.

Pain coursed through your body as you stared up at the window you'd just stumbled out of and onto main street out front of the warehouse below. People screamed around you and backed up from your form. You were laid out on the ground on your back now. Your rifle laid across your stomach as you groaned and tried to push yourself up. You needed to go. Move Speck. Get the fuck out of here. Now Speck. Go! Move you idiot!

You stood slowly as the doors of the warehouse opened and you saw the officers beginning to file out, looking for you. Your eyes darted back and forth for some kind of escape route that didn't involve heading anywhere near them. If you didn't get off the main street right now though you'd be in a Pakistani prison by nightfall. You put your back to the officers filing out as you pulled at the straps of the helmet, taking it off of your head as you tried your best to blend in for as long as you could.

Don't look back, just keep walking Speck. You could feel the strap of your gun tugging at your neck as you went. It kept you as hidden as you could in the sea of bodies as the officers searched for you. The crowd was parting around you though like the red sea did for Moses. The second you heard the officers yelling you took off as fast as you could. Don’t look back, just go, the last thing you needed was to get caught.

Darting down an alley you tried to shake your tail in the maze of alleys and backstreets, but they knew the city better than you could ever hope to. Don't stop running though, not until sirens disappear, Speck. Your feet pounded against the hard ground, gun strap around your shoulder as you fled the scene. Another street was ahead, the only option you had for escape at this point. You certainly couldn't head back the way you'd come, not with the officers you knew were currently trying to track you down. Fuck it.

You sprinted towards the street but before you got there the cargo van skidded to a halt in front of you. Brakes and tires squealing in the effort. How the fuck had they found you? The back doors flung open and Soap and Gaz hopped out. Watching the way you were coming from with their guns raised. A few shots popped off behind you and they were quick to return the fire. John looked around the side of the door and yelled, "Get in! We are leaving!" Good enough for you. You hauled ass towards them, John reaching a hand out to pull you up into the van as you hopped inside. Soap and Gaz right behind you as they fired off a couple more shots.

The second John yelled, "Go, go, go!" The van took off before the doors had even shut. Watcher quite literally floored it as John, Soap, and Gaz worked together to pull the doors closed. You were leaning against the side of the van as the Captain whirled on you. Fire swam in his eyes. Barely controlled anger obvious on his features, "What the fuck were you thinking? Were you even thinking?" Indignation flared in your mind as you stood up straight. He was hot when he was angry sure but his questions raised that rebellious side of your mind and your chin lifted and your shoulders squared in response.

The need to rebel against the man trying to put you down fueled your actions, no one questioned your decisions but you. Even when you knew you'd be kicking yourself for it later you couldn't help yourself but to shoot back, "I was thinking I could keep a lot of people from dying. I was thinking I could do my job," you managed to growl out through gritted teeth. A much deeper growl came from behind the false wall and you heard the loud barks echoing through the small space. Claws scratched vigorously as Cerberus tried to get through to you.

John wasn't done with you though, his hand grabbing one of the straps on your vest and forcing you to lock your eyes on him, "I wasn't looking for an actual answer. Keep your mouth in check or I'll do it for you." Your teeth clenched together, watching as he stared down at you. The tension in the van was palpable as he reamed you verbally. Not even Cerberus' thunderous barking could break the attention the both of you had on one another. His anger was a front for his worry. You could see it in his eyes as the waves of fury danced in his eyes, parting for just a quick moment as he let you see it.

Your lips pursed, suffocating your own anger at being questioned, "Copy that, sir," you forced out. Watching as his eyes flicked down to your mouth you continued to stare hard at him. You wanted to call him out, say something that made him understand, but he didn��t need to know the guilt you felt. The guilt you always carried strapped to your back. His hand in your vest pushed you a bit harder, your back hitting the metal hard and drawing out a huff of pain from you in response.

The blue eyes staring down at you narrowed slightly before he growled, "When I give you an order you follow it. I say get back to the van, you get there like your life depends on it because it probably does." John stopped, his gaze not softening in the slightest as you gave him a quick nod of understanding despite the fire in your eyes. His hand loosened in the strap of your vest before he stepped back with a sigh and shook his head. His eyes found the two Sergeants staring between the two of you then, the both of them staying quiet in the suffocating tension. "What are you two looking at?" Soap and Gaz immediately shook their heads in answer, hands raising as they quietly claimed their innocence.

It was the first time you'd had a chance to glance around the back of the van. Ghost was watching with his arms crossed against the other wall. You hadn’t even realized that he too was back here. When a pothole rocked the entire van, everyone immediately reached for the nearest thing they could hold onto. Ghost found the wall behind him just as you did the same on your side. Soap and Gaz braced themselves against the doors and one another. John, who was standing in the middle of the van, fell backwards against you.

He tensed the moment he touched you as you steadied him with an arm around his waist. One of his hands slapped over the back of your own hand currently braced against the wall. While the finger’s of his left latched onto your forearm. Heat flared over your skin as he touched it, the calluses of his palm catching against the hair of your arms. Damn he felt good like this. His back pressing firmly against your chest as you held him against you with one arm. Barely catching yourself before you pressed your lips to his just barely exposed neck.

Your mouth would fit just perfectly right above that tan and black bandana he was wearing. Just lean up to that space right below his hairline where you could see that little string that kept his boonie hat in place. Standing up a bit taller you very nearly did it, blinking a couple times as you remembered just where the hell you were and the fact you had been at each other’s throats not even fifteen seconds ago. Your arm released like you’d been burned by a stove or something and you stepped back, moving your hand to the rifle instead as you huffed.

John seemed just as tense still as he adjusted his bandana, pulling it up at the back and refusing to turn around to look at you. Thankfully no one else seemed to have noticed your impulse control issues. How very near you came to kissing their Captain right in front of them. Soap walked right on by you towards the false wall and released the latch. In the next second a big body shot through the opening he created. Cerberus found your legs immediately, his ears pinned back against his head, tail wagging nervously behind him, and quiet yips like a puppy left his maw.

Soap snorted at the sight and opened the false wall the rest of the way to find that the separator that closed off the small cubby to the front of the van was closed as well. You kneeled down with the dog, whispering quietly to him as you fought to calm him down. When Soap opened the front false wall you glanced up to see Konig’s wide eyes staring from the passenger seat as he said, “Is the dog calmed down now?” His voice was a little higher in pitch than normal, like he was trying to hide his fear.

Your head tilted as Soap gave a slow nod, brows from around the back furrowed in confusion at Konig’s comment. The Sergeant stepped out of the way so Konig could see you with Cerberus on the ground, his belly up in the air in front of you. “I thought he was going to eat me. He did not like your yelling Captain, scared me to death,” you hid your smile as you pressed a free hand into your mouth. The other still running soothingly over the dog’s stomach.

John huffed and shook his head, “S’pose not. Speck needed to hear it though,” he grumbled as he found himself a seat against the wall and Konig made his way into the back once more. Everyone seemed to settle down after that, tiredness after a mission nearly being absolutely fucked weighing on everyone’s frayed nerves.

The only place left for you to sit as everyone piled into the little cubby of the van though was of course next to John. No sense in drawing this awkwardness out though, best not to make it obvious how averse you were to taking a seat beside the brunette. It wasn’t lost on him though, you felt his gaze on you, scalding your face with heat. When you glanced his way though he crossed his arms over his chest, shut his eyes, and tilted his head back against the cool metal of the van. You had a feeling you would end up regretting your decision to stay behind when he got the chance to get you alone later.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Still in shadowban purgatory but here ya go anyway. I've also put my fics up on AO3 if anyone wants to go check them out

Drowning In The Depths

Back Together

Part 6

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 8k

Synopsis: Reader is doing the interrogating now, get in there Speck

Warnings: NSFW smut, lil bit of violence but no one died

No sense in sitting around waiting for John to say it again. You pushed yourself up to your elbows, his hand still splayed across your back as you felt the beginnings of resistance on his end. Glancing his way you caught sight of the furrowed brunette brows, he wanted to know what was wrong. You could hear the question even before he asked it. “Nothing’s wrong, John. Don’t get comfortable right?” You faked an easy smile despite the tightness in your throat that you hid so well. Too well, really.

Immediately his head was shaking though as his hand pressed into your back with the full force of his strength, blocking you from getting up. His hard look fixed on you as he said, “That’s not what I meant. If it were up to me I'd never let you leave this bed again." You shifted underneath his hand earning a look that just screamed, 'Try me.' Your tense jaw and darting eyes were all he needed to see to know you didn't believe what he was saying.

Didn't mean it like that? How else could he have meant it? The man had fucked the daylights out of you and then told you to get dressed and leave. Wasn't much room left for interpretation there, was there? But you just needed him to get off you, believe you for a second so you could get out of this already embarrassing situation. "Ok, what do you need help with then?" The hand on your back didn’t relent but at least his gaze was softening once more.

A sigh fell from him before he answered, "The guy we brought in. He won't speak to anyone but you, requested you specifically. Laswell needs you to talk to him." What the fuck? Why you? Your dog had nearly taken his whole arm off and now he wanted to talk to you? Did he have any common sense?

Jesus Christ. You were already feeling tired just at the thought. He wanted an answer though and so you gave him a slow nod, "Fine. I'll talk to him, alright?" The hand finally pulled away and you sat up, scooting up the bed to grab your clothes off the table where he'd laid them earlier. Shifting to the edge of the bed you started to pull your pants up your calves, struggling to get the fabric up your sweaty skin.

He put a hand on your shoulder though with a humorous look in his eyes, "Might want to clean up first, Love." Embarrassment flooded through you at the comment as you glanced down to see the growing wet stain on his sheets. Fucked you, finished in you, hell the man basically owned you at this point. You pushed yourself up, but when you stood your legs felt like jello. Knees as weak as newborn foal after the thorough pounding you'd just been given.

Hands were around your hips in a moment, pulling you back to sit on his lap and making your entire body tense with the effort of not staining his clothes like you had his sheets. He nudged his chin up onto your shoulder, the tip of his nose grazing against the side of your neck, warm against your already too hot skin. "Let me help you," he cooed in your ear, even annoyed with him you couldn't deny the hold he had on you. Damn he did own you. You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder, watching as he pulled the shirt off the bedside table and worked it underneath your legs. The fabric scraped your skin as he cleaned himself off you as best he could.

You shifted and tensed again and you could feel him smirk against your skin, "Guess you'll have to keep the rest of it from leaking out till you can get to the shower, huh?" Fuck him. Wait no don't fuck him. Damnit though he knew what he was doing. Pulling you against him and trying to make you horny again so you'd forget…What were you supposed to be forgetting again? He hummed in a questioning tone and without even thinking you nodded to him. You'd say yes to anything so long as he kept touching you. Shit weren't you supposed to be angry at him?

His hands slid down your thighs to pull at the waistband of your pants. You felt them slide up slowly but with relative ease. Reaching up to do the buttons he grabbed your wrists and you felt the scratch of his beard on your skin as he shook his head, "No. I told you to let me help you." His fingers grazed up your forearm and you gave another slow nod in answer. He moved back to your pants slowly, buttoning them with expert fingers as he looked down your bare chest.

Lips pressed into your skin just below your ear before he whispered, "Put your boots on, and I'll get you another shirt." Your head shook as your hands shot back to grab at his sides, rolling your hips against him with newfound need. There was a smile in his voice as he said, "Yes," and he stilled your squirming body with his hands at your waist. "Boots on," he slid you off his lap and back to the bed despite the whine you let out asking him for more. Pressing a kiss to your cheek he muttered a quick, "Not right now," before he moved to a large duffel bag sitting on a chair.

You leaned over to slide your socks on before your boots, lacing them up as quickly as you could while also stealing glances up at his back and ass. Damn he looked good in military fatigues. He looked good in everything honestly. Your eyes shot to the floor the second you saw his body turning though, finishing lacing up your other boot, he didn't need to know you were watching him.

John cleared his throat as he handed you the shirt, forcing you to look up at him as you took it. Sliding it over your head he reached a hand down to help you up off the bed. Steadying you with his hands by wrapping his arms around your back and fitting your body snugly against his. He was so warm it was if he was radiating heat right now. It was nearly suffocating and yet you couldn't bring yourself to move away. Not until he asked quietly, "Are you ready to go?" That's why you had been mad at him, he was trying to get rid of you. Don't pull away though, he'll only prolong this, whatever this is. This softening of the blow?

Instead you nodded, feeling his arms loosen their grip as he pulled away. His fingers lingering on your sides for just a moment before all his heat was gone and he was moving towards the door. Your first step drew a hiss from your lips, back tensing with the effort of moving. And then you felt it, his cum trying to drip out of you. Your eyes went wide and he caught your look, his face casting in worry as he took a step back towards you not realizing what had made you stop so suddenly. "No," you stopped him with a raised hand, "I'm fine. Shit I thought you cleaned me up," your back stiffened and you stood a little taller, your whole lower body clenching at the foreign feeling.

The smirk on his face set your blood alight as he shrugged, "Most of it yeah. Be good and I'll eat the rest out later, yeah?" Your eyes shut as you tried to control your thoughts to keep the blood from rushing back below your belt. You'd just gotten rid of the last erection you couldn't handle another one, not right now, and especially not when you had to go interrogate someone. Beside you were angry at him, it was like he was trying to make a fool of you or something. Right?

Swallowing hard, you took another testing step and opened your eyes again. You were sore but you could manage, no worse than the last few times. Don't let him see you struggling, that'd only make this whole thing worse. The last thing you needed was him knowing how easily he controlled your mind. A deep breath and you were ready, glancing out the window cautiously before he opened the door to let you out. Trying to match his strides though was not going to work, you were at a severe disadvantage. Your entrance was still throbbing from his ministrations and you had to stay clenched impossibly tight so you didn't end up ruining the only fresh pair of pants you had.

Were they really all that fresh now though? You sighed at the thought and thankfully John slowed to match your pace without you needing to ask. He didn't talk or banter, he was back to business. Eyes were on him and he had information he needed you to pull out of someone. This was work John, Captain Price, and while sometimes the two mingled right now he was all Captain. The office he directed you into was bigger than you'd expected, and the woman behind the desk had her eyes on you the second you stepped through the door. John stepped in right behind you, moving to stand beside her desk with his arms crossed over his chest like a mediator or something.

Laswell's smile was polite but you weren't sure if it was sincere or not. And she almost looked strained when she said, "Has Captain Price detailed our situation to you?" You nodded slowly and she stood up, "Good. I assume you don't need a translator to converse with him?" You shook your head in answer and she continued, "Perfect. He won't say anything to the translator except that he wants to talk to the man with the dog. Your conversation will be monitored the whole time." She opened a drawer and pulled out a case of small ear pieces before handing one to you, "You'll be wearing this. I'll need you to ask him questions for me, can you do that?" Another quick nod and you pressed the bud down into your ear, tensing at the squeal as it settled.

Sweeping your tongue over your lips to wet your dry mouth and taking a deep breath you turned your attention back to her, "Where's he at?" She beckoned you with a quick wave as she left the room, guiding you and John both through the halls. Opening a door into a dark room she stepped inside. You followed, turning to glance through a one way window into the other room. The man was handcuffed by himself, the room devoid of anything but a chair for him to sit in and another for whoever else was in the room. He stared blankly ahead as she handed you a file. The way he was staring felt almost like he was watching you through the one way mirror. Like he knew you were there.

When you opened it you frowned at the contents. It was only a few surveillance photos that were inside of him from a while ago. You looked up at her with a questioning gaze and she said, "His name is Labeeb el-Haider. We don't have much on him from recently but he used to be a part of a small resistance group. Switched sides for some reason, we don't know why." You nodded as you examined the photos from his resistance days, glancing at the patch on his shoulder. You knew that group, you'd fought alongside that group. The markings on his jacket meant he was a General. And he'd switched sides? Laswell wouldn't let you dwell on it for too long though as she motioned to him, "Just ask him the questions I need you too and get him to talk."

You were quick to exit the observation room, stopping outside the door when the soldier guarding it turned to punch in a code on the keypad beside them. When the light turned green they gave you a nod and you pushed inside. You moved slowly into the room, watching him follow the sounds of your footsteps but he refused to turn around and find you. The man stayed quiet as you stood behind him, and you could see his eyes flicking up to you in the mirror but not holding your gaze. Sitting was not something you were ready to do just yet so instead you leaned back against the wall, watching him quietly with interest. Waiting to see what he would do in your absence to do anything.

Patience was one of the few virtues you were blessed with, and you were willing to wait for him to break first. His hand ran along his forearm, over the bandages he was sporting after coming into contact with Cerberus' powerful jaws. Once he realized just who it was behind him, it didn't take long for him to speak up, "Pashto?" You nodded slowly to his question as he fell quiet for a few more seconds watching you in the glass. "Arabic?" Another nod to his question and he was beginning to shift at the uncomfortable silence. "English?" Yet another nod and you watched his jaw tense as he sat up a little taller.

His leg was bouncing, so he was nervous. He'd gotten his demand but you were sure he wasn't expecting to have succeeded. His next question came in a mix of Pashto and Arabic, he was either trying to confuse a translator that might be watching and hide what he was saying, or he was an idiot. You were fairly sure it was the former, "Is it really you?" You resisted the urge to tilt your head, just continuing to watch him quietly. Truly you had no idea what he was talking about but he didn't need to know that.

Your silence was off-putting. He'd expected to be talked to, interrogated, yet here you were with three languages at your disposal and still as silent as ever. His eyes kept flicking up to watch you in the glass until he noticed you were still very much watching him and then he shot his eyes back down to the ground. Laswell's voice came through in your ear then as she questioned you, "He knows you?" You stared hard at the glass, as if you were staring straight through to the person you knew was behind it and currently trying to interrogate you.

Even if he did know you, you didn't know him. Or at least you didn't remember him. The mixture of Arabic and Pashto assaulted your ears again as he spoke, "You are still working with the Admiral, yes Speck?" Your gaze narrowed at him, head tilting finally as you came around his chair. You sat in front of him, stiffening for a moment as you leaned forward, watching him closely. How did he know your call sign? How did he know your face? No one was supposed to know who you were, that was why you could do what you do.

Laswell's voice came through the earpiece, "Tell him that you are, Speck." They'd cracked his little mixed language scheme it seemed. Maybe he was just an idiot then. An idiot who knew too much about things that he shouldn't. This man was pushing his fucking luck.

Slowly you nodded an affirmative to him. You hadn't worked with the Admiral for almost a year, your undercover work with him had been the reason you were in the UK in the first place. Obviously he hadn’t been given all the information. The cover works for you though. "Prove it," he demanded in a quiet whisper of Arabic. Apparently he was dropping the Pashto altogether. That was fine, he was shit at speaking it anyway.

You sat back in the chair, your back straight and stiff as you rolled up your sleeve. Shoving your forearm forward you showed him the small brand of an anchor at the inside of your wrist. It was almost imperceptible, it'd be lost on anyone who wasn't actually looking for it. But he saw it, you noticed the second his eyes locked onto the little scar. And then you struck.

Your fingers slid around his throat, tightening their hold even as he jerked his hands up to stop you. Leaning down over him you growled in Arabic, "You do not make demands of me. Do it again and I'll make sure you never walk out of here." His eyes looked anywhere but up at you.

He'd forgotten to fear you, that healthy dose that kept worms like him alive. He should have remembered well if he really thought you were still working with that idiot the Admiral. Laswell was in your ear, telling you to let him go, that this wasn't the plan but she didn't know what you did. She didn't know the part you'd been set to play now. She had asked for this and you were going to deliver.

The fingers stayed wrapped around his throat, tightening impossibly more as you watched his life drain, until finally he managed a nod and you dropped your hand from his sensitive trachea. Pulling your sleeve back down you took a step back, finding your seat slowly, still tensed as you sat with your arms crossed. His hands ran over his throat as if to assure himself he could still breathe.

Your face was set in a hard scowl, you had a part to play and you would play it well. You always did. His shaky Arabic came out slowly as he asked, "No one is watching us or listening?" You shook your head slowly in answer, eyes boring into him, making sure he kept his own line of sight down. "H-How did-" you cut his question off with a hand around his wrist.

He stared down at it, there was fear in those eyes. Good. "Ask another question and I will break it, understand?" The nod came quickly in answer as you tightened your hold anyway. "Answer a question wrong and I will break it, understand?" Another vigorous nod had his hair falling in his face. "Good," you sat back letting his hand go as your eyes found the wall over his head, seeming to think for a moment. "Where is the family I came to the house for?" His eyes shot up to you just as yours lowered back to him.

The urge to lie danced on his face. You could see it in his eyes plain as day but your threats were fresh. His danger at your hands was much more imminent than anyone else's were. And he was a coward. Only a coward's loyalty could be bought and sold by terrorists. "Zabol," oh you have got to be kidding. Zabol? Seriously?

Sitting forward again your eyes searched his nearly hoping he had lied to you. Your hand found his wrist again, "Do better than that Labeeb." That struck something deep in him, he wasn't aware you knew his name as well. "Follow your namesake and be sensible, intelligent. You know what I want. Give it to me or…Well you know what happens next, yes?" He nodded slowly, eyes locked where your grip on his wrist was tightening slowly, like a python squeezing the life out of its prey.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed before he finally managed to mutter out, "They are in a warehouse near the market. We moved them there that night when the call came through. We moved all the others we found in that man's house as well. We were supposed to kill him but you came before we could." Your grip kept tightening and he was beginning to panic now, "That is all I know. I swear it." Your head tilted questioningly as pain radiated into his voice, "Pl-Please, Speck, I-I don't know anything else." You paused, he was telling the truth. You could feel his pulse thudding beneath his skin. It certainly wasn't a lie. You released him and stood casting a quick glance down at his bowed head as his fingers rubbed at his wrist.

That had been easier than you expected, but then again the Admiral's name coming up had given you an edge in that interrogation. You'd gotten lucky. Pulling the door open you made sure it closed behind you before you glanced down the hall where Laswell was coming out of the observation room. "What the hell was that?" You pulled the earpiece out, wincing as her loud voice sent feedback through your ear.

As she neared you, you held it out to her, "You forced my hand so I played the part. We got the location didn't we. The family is in Zabol, and they'll be there with all the other families I’ve left there too." You dropped the earpiece into her outstretched palm and shoved your hands into your pockets. Your carefully made mask of nonchalance overtaking your features as you watched her.

She shook her head slowly at you and scoffed, "We weren't just after the family's location, Speck. We need the head of the organization, not his wife and kids." She was reprimanding you but she didn't know all the facts. How could she? Or did she know and she wanted you to explain yourself anyway?

"I got you both," she crossed her arms over her chest, not seeming to believe you even for a second. "The only direct competition for the Admiral right now is your mystery bomb maker." A blonde eyebrow cocked at you prompting you to continue your explanation. "If the Admiral doesn't have them, we don't have them, and my old contractor doesn't have them then who does that leave? Her husband." Blue eyes were watching you, judging and deciding and she didn't yet seem convinced.

You glanced down at the folder in her grasp and held out your hand for it, she handed it over. Pulling out the picture you pointed to the patch on his shoulder, "Labeeb was a General for one of the local resistance factions in Pakistan. Picture was taken four years ago,” you pointed down to the timestamp. “I worked with the organization but I never directly met him, never even heard a reference to him. So how did he know me?" She humored you with a shrug, "His boss, the mystery bomb maker. The same one who paid off my handler to get the details for my murder. He must've paid for his family's release too."

Her eyes continued to stare down at the picture you were showing her, “My cover before I came here was one of the Admiral’s enforcers, it was why I had to lay low for nearly four months. That idiot in there knew something, thought he had some bit of valuable information on me. He was going to exploit it, blackmail me. You don’t make deals with the Admiral or his men though. They kill you before you even know what’s happening. I did my job, you’re the one who told me to say yes. I was just following orders.” Your arms crossed over your chest and you handed her the file back, “You find the warehouse I guarantee you’ll find your bomb guy. If we don’t I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes. I want him just as bad as you.” The logic couldn't be denied, it was a solid thought and you shrugged, "We good?"

She continued to stare down at the picture, still deciding your fate even as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Your straight face was cracking with every second you stood here now. You'd played your part and kept it together as long as you could. Now your mind was racing with impure thoughts once more and the source was the man standing just beside Laswell.

God you could feel his cum trying to leak out every time you fuckin moved. Glancing towards him he was looking down at Laswell, not even watching you for once, but he was smirking. He knew you were tense, and damn did it make you feel dirty. Nearly like you were being used and it was sending pulses straight below your waist. This should not turn you on so much, why were you getting hard. Stop it!

"We're good," you took in a deep breath, suddenly filled with relief because the sooner you were done here the sooner he could make good on his promise. "I'll put together a target package. Expect to be called in soon boys." She glanced up at John and then towards you as she backed up and headed down the hall before she called back, "Get some sleep. You're both gonna need it." And then Laswell was gone, disappearing around a corner with her phone to her ear and a file in her hand. You wondered if that was normally how she was or if there was another side, a side more like the one who had been the judge for your competition.

John was still standing beside you, his eyes flicking to the soldier still standing by the wall before he walked a couple steps back. You took off after him, there was only one way to get out of here and that was to follow. Damn you wanted more than to just follow him though. Turning down an empty hall he glanced back to find you, his beard twitching with his barely contained amusement. This wasn't the way you had come in so where the hell was he taking you?

He stopped by a keypad, punching in a quick set of numbers before he pulled open the door. His head jerked in a motion to follow him so you did, watching him turn to make sure the door closed before he kept going further inside. This must have been the squad room if the couch, TV, and old ass PS2 was anything to go by. Another door, this one opened with a simple key he pulled from his pocket, and he raised his arm for you to duck below it inside. Definitely not the way you'd come in.

He shut the door behind him, shrouding everything in darkness for a moment as he turned the lock with an audible click. You tensed in the darkness, hand reaching for him and finding only air. When the light finally flipped on your eyes shut tight for a moment to adjust to the bright light. Before strong hands were at your hips and his mouth was assaulting your neck hungrily. As if he hadn't just had you not even an hour ago.

Who were you to judge though with your own cock already hard in your pants. "Is it dripping out of you or have you been a good boy? Waiting for me to clean you up?" Oh God his words went right to your cock and the pressure was building. Your hands sought to find purchase, managing to do so as you caught hold of his wrist and slid his hand to the small of your back. Guiding his fingers below the waistband of your pants, and dragging those rough digits through the crack of your ass you pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance. Your muscles relaxed for the first time with relief and he groaned against your neck at the feeling of his own spend starting to leak out of you.

Finally you had a chance to take a look at your surroundings. A reprieve while he steadied himself. An office? His office judging by the name placard sitting right in front of you. Oh shit that was hot. When did you become such a kinky motherfucker? One finger pressed inside of you before he pulled it out, letting you tense back up again as he held it up to the light. Almost like he was inspecting it. Until his eyes shot to yours and he pressed his finger against your bottom lip.

Your mouth opened readily, without even needing to think about it, your lips wrapping around his thick digits and tongue swirling over his fingers. Sucking hard at his callused flesh. He turned his face down to hum against your skin, as his fingers danced over the back of your tongue. And then slowly he pulled them out, returning his fingers to your hip. "So dirty, Love." He murmured, kissing the skin just behind your ear as his breath swirled over the shell of your ear, "Let me clean you up, yeah?"

Son of a bitch, he needed to do something with that mouth since it was always running. Do it now, please do it now. You nodded, "Hell yeah," his beard scratched against you as his mouth turned up in a smile. His fingers flying to the buttons of your pants and undoing them with ease. The warmth of his body left you for a moment as he stepped around you, pulling your arm as he guided you around the desk.

He nodded to the chair and ordered in that deep, gravelly voice that had your spine tingling, "Sit." You obeyed without question, he would take care of your physical needs, that you knew without question. He jerked the pants down your legs till they caught on your boots and you watched him sink to his knees, not even bothering to take your pants all the way off. You pulled at the hem of your shirt, your half hardened member laying against your stomach as sparks of pleasure brought it to life.

You watched him closely, the way his hands found your thighs and caressed as if they were worthy of his worship. His lips hovered just over the skin before pressing gentle kisses into it. You were biting your lip and you didn't even realize it until you tasted a tang of iron. The action of your tongue flicking out to soothe the fresh wound caught his attention, his brunette brows furrowing at the sight. He reached up to run his thumb over the red bead of blood. His head shaking with near sorrow at the sight as he whispered, "Be careful with yourself. I don't like to see you hurt." You nodded slowly, unable to form words at the gentleness he was showing right now. No one had ever treated you like he did, made you feel like you were the only man in the world who deserved attention.

The fingers of the same hand ran back down the length of your torso stopping over the pulsing flesh of your cock, the warmth of his hand reaching you even without touching. Finally the callused fingers ran over the length of it carefully and you slowly pressed up for more but the smile and shake of his head stopped you. Behave and he'll give you everything. Keep it together Speck, you were so close to getting what you wanted, just be patient. He was building the pressure of your climax slowly, he wanted this one drawn out, wanted you to be near begging for him. Wanted you to have to work for it. When did he not?

He picked up your calves ducking below them to rest your thighs on the broad expanse of his shoulders. Your legs locked around him by the pants bunched at your ankles. His hands wrapped around to the front of your hips. That burning gaze watched you expectantly from where he was knelt like he was waiting for something. His face turned to one side, pressing soft lips to the inside of your thigh. Lord, how many times had you had this wet dream? Him knelt between your legs again with those eyes. The knowledge that he would give you anything you asked him for so long as you asked nicely.

Fantasies had been dancing through your mind for eight months and not a single one could compare to this sight. You pulled the hem of your shirt up further, exposing the soft curls on your chest. Taking the fabric in your teeth you reached down to take one of his hands in yours, the other finding his hair. The second you let your body relax his eyes drifted down to take in the sight of his own cum dripping out of you. The man was captivated by the sight before he dove in with reckless abandon.

The fingers you'd twined together squeezed hard but you couldn't tell if it was him, you, or the both you who was doing it. The only thing you could think about was his tongue dipping inside of you. Lapping at your used and still slick hole like a man starved. Like he hadn't been buried inside of you once today already. His free hand was curled around the top of your thigh, stopping you from squirming away from his touch. It was almost too much. He was almost too much.

Your teeth were biting around the fabric so hard that had it been your own lip you surely would have drawn blood again. Your hand in his hair was holding on so tight it had to be painful but he didn't even seem to notice. Hell he looked like he liked it, moaning every time you pulled or twisted the locks in your fingers. He had one job, one thought, to make you see stars. And by God was he gonna do it at this rate.

Moans slipped out past the fabric, and his eyes shot up to your flushed face. Did he want you to be quiet? God how were you supposed to be quiet when he was doing this to you? Had he not been holding you down you would have been thrusting into the air in search of your release you were certain. His mouth pulled away, affording you a moment of reprieve as his fingers tightened their hold on both your hand and your thigh. He pressed another soft kiss into your thigh, and when he found your eyes his beard was slick with his own spit and release.

The sight had your eyes rolling back, head tilting back into the leather chair. Too pent up and horny to think for a few moments as you fought to catch your breath. It was funny, not even fifteen minutes ago you'd had a man so terrified of you that he wouldn't even look you in the eye. Now? You had a man so willing to please you he couldn't even wait to get back to a bed, he was tongue fucking you in his damn office. Good Lord almighty you didn't deserve this kind of attention from anyone, least of all from the sexiest man you'd ever met.

Fingers grabbed your jaw, his hand patting your face a couple times as he brought you back to reality. His blue eyes were full of worry as he looked up at you from where he was knelt between your thighs. When you finally focused on him though he seemed to settle down asking, "You good, Love? Still with me?" His hand was still cupping your cheek, not willing to leave your face until he was sure you weren't about to pass out on him.

The hem of your shirt fell from your mouth as your jaw unclenched and you gave him a tired nod, "Yeah. I'm great. Don't stop, please don't stop." His smile lifted his face, eyes crinkling at the corners with the effort as he dove in for his second helping. The hand at your face slid down your bare torso, nails leaving trails across your skin before he finally stopped at your leaking cock. His rough fingers wrapped around the base, sliding up the length and you could barely even focus on it with the way he was still eating you out.

Precome slicked your length and you watched the hand he'd been holding you down with disappear below the chair. The second he let out a moan against you, you knew he was working himself just out of sight. He paused his ministrations for only a moment to spit into his hands before he went back to work. Christ could it get any better than this? His tongue was fucking magical, lapping at your walls with no concern for how your hands were beginning to shake.

You were desperately grabbing at the arm rests of the chair, muscles tense and screaming with the effort but you couldn't find the will to care about the pain there. "Oh fuck John, don't stop. I'm close," the pressure was dying to be released now. Begging for relief and you were so very nearly gone. When his hand dropped from around your length and his shoulders pressed into the back of your thighs you couldn't stop the whining plea from escaping your parted lips, "No, no, please no."

But by no means was he gonna leave you like that. John must have been feeling merciful at the moment. He sat back on his heels, pulling you with him by the hips so just your back and head were resting on the seat of the chair. Your knees curling over his shoulders being the only thing keeping your hips from falling to the ground. He grabbed your length in his hand again just before his lips were wrapping around it, surrounding your sensitive member in the wet, sucking heat of his mouth. "Oh holy-" your loud curse was cut off as his fingers dipped into your mouth, quieting you for just a moment before the hand was gone again.

Hold something, that's what you needed to do. Hold onto something for dear life cause he was about to try to take you out at the fuckin knees. And try he did. The fingers he'd just wet with your mouth pressed against your spit slicked entrance and slid in with ease. Curling up and searching for your prostate in an attempt to make you gasp for air. One hand shot to his hair, his mouth still bobbing up and down your length as he overloaded your senses with the pleasure currently coursing through you. You weren't going to last much longer, that much you knew.

Your other hand shot above your head and found the back of the chair, wrapping your forearm around it as your fingers dug in. You could see his other hand still working his own length. God he was getting off just on the fact he was pleasuring you. Your back arched off the seat, the backs of your shoulders pressing down into the leather, as he took your entire length down his throat. Quiet pants rose into the air. You didn't have the breath to moan or groan or beg anymore, he was sucking the air out of your lungs through the tip of your dick.

His head bobbed up and as he took you in completely again you felt his fingers find what they were looking for. The rough pads of the skin rubbing over the sensitive nerves. Your eyes were either shut or you were going blind now cause you couldn't see a damn thing. It wasn't like it would have mattered though seeing as you were currently only able to stare up at the ceiling. Another bob of his head up and down your length, your skin was so slick with sweat now you were certain the chair was about to shoot out from under you.

The man hummed against your flesh, the vibrations coursed through your whole body and when his fingers plunged into you again in search of those delicate nerve endings everything went blank. You were floating on a cloud so light and airy you couldn't even feel him swallowing around your cock to take in your release. And you especially didn't hear the moan he let out when his own hit him and he unloaded across the floor. You might as well have been dead to the world as you floated so high in the clouds nothing could touch you there.

The white cloud you were on turned dark, reality ceased to exist. It wasn't until pain lanced through your shoulder and you felt your entire body being jostled by strong hands that everything began to come back to you. Muffled words found your ears as you fought back to the surface you'd been drowning under not even a moment before. Blearily your eyes opened, the bright bulbs above causing you to shut them tight for a few moments before a hand was on your face. The rough texture catching against the coarse hair of your growing stubble.

Slowly your eyes opened again, ocean blue eyes catching your attention so wholly you couldn't look anywhere else. Relief flooded his expression as he pulled your forehead down, his lips pressing against it as he let out a deep breath against your sweat slicked skin. You felt his soothing rocking motions then, back and forth. Were you not in the chair anymore?

Finally you managed to focus on something else as he pulled back, tilting his head down to look up at you. "Hey, Love. Can you answer me? Need to make sure you're ok, yeah?" His thumb was dragging over your cheekbone with slow purposeful strokes. It was the only thing truly grounding you to the present as you leaned into it, your eyes drifting shut for a moment before you remembered he’d asked you a question.

A smile spread on your face then as you managed a quick, "'M good." He smiled back then, pulling your face down into the crook of his neck as he hugged you to his chest. The rocking ceased slowly and you felt him shift under you. The realization that you were in his lap hit very suddenly when you felt the fabric of his clothes shift against your sensitive member. A groan escaped you and he froze, his fingers splaying across the back of your head and running soothingly through your hair.

His long beard drug against your stubbled cheek as his mouth tilted closer to your ear and he asked, "Still good?" A low hum of affirmation and he was moving again, leaning back against the desk as he held you close. You were straddling his lap, his legs canted up behind you and raised just enough so that he wasn't trapping you by the pants still shoved down around your ankles. "Had me worried there for a moment," his deep voice rumbled out, vibrating through your chest. "Didn't think you were gonna pass out on me, guess I’ll have to be a bit more careful next time, huh?."

You'd passed out? You didn't even remember that. The man beneath you had fucked you so good he'd literally flipped the switch off in your brain. "I'm sorry," you mumbled out against his neck and he merely shook his head, pulling you tighter against him like he was assuring himself you were still there. Still talking and breathing in his arms even as you murmured, "That's never happened before." God you were so tired and worn out now, it’d been another long day and he was truly exhausting you.

You needed to sleep and where better to sleep than against this perfectly warm and squeezing body. The man even smelt good, you needed to bottle this smell and start wearing it as cologne yourself. He pulled your face out of the crook he'd buried it in, both hands at the sides of your neck as he smirked up at you, "That good huh?" You huffed and shook your head, diving back into the warmth he was willing to provide. He chuckled lightly, the feeling vibrating through you as he pulled you back against his body.

Damn, you needed to get his cologne brand before you left. Smoke and rich oaks pervaded your nose every time you got close to him. Embroidering itself in your mind as the place where you were safest, warmest, and happiest. The two of you sat like that for a long time, one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other at the small of your back. You nuzzled into him and suffocated yourself with his smell and his warmth. It wasn't until he woke you again that you grumbled a low, "Don't move. I'm comfortable," against the pulse throbbing in his throat.

His quiet chuckle woke you up completely then as he kept moving, "I'm sure you are since you’re using me as your pillow, Love, but my back is hurting. I’ve got to get up. Besides, you need a shower and I've got to clean my floor now." Oh…he was sending you off again. You frowned into his neck but before he could pull your face away from his still sweat slicked neck that mask of nonchalance took over your features again.

Lips found yours in a gentle kiss before he pulled away, nudging your cheek with his nose as he tried to find your gaze. You glanced down though, looking at your still naked lower half as you tried to figure out how you were gonna extricate yourself from him in the smoothest way possible. Slowly you stood up, bracing yourself on his shoulders before you shuffled back. His feet lifted so they didn't get tangled in the pants still around your ankles and you bent to pull them back up into place and button them as quickly as you could.

John watched you, his own pants had been pulled up but the buttons hadn't been done back up yet. His fingers wrapped around your wrist as he stopped your hasty progress, "I'll see you later, yeah? We'll have an op to run soon, you won't be strapping this time. Full green light with us." You seemed to perk up at that, your brows lifting in surprise. No more strapping? A full kit and a full team. You hadn’t had that in a long time.

This was unexpected to say the least. Was this what sleeping your way to the top was like? Bypassing all those barriers that would have been up otherwise to get to the finish line as soon as possible. Was this favoritism? Were you the boss's secretary now? Holy shit you were the bimbo.

Kinda nice to be the bimbo though you had to admit. Satisfying and easy. Get the best fuck of your life and then get to go do the job you loved. Not a bad idea being the bimbo. "Yeah John, I'll see you later." You finished the last closure on the pants before you turned back to ask him with a tilted head, "Just to clarify,” his head tilted in question, prompting you to continue. “Do you prefer to be called Captain, Price, or sir when on mission?" His smile reached his eyes at that comment as he pulled you towards him, getting himself a handful of ass before assaulting your mouth with his own hungrily.

When he pulled away his mouth buried into the space between your shoulder and your neck. His beard scratched at your sensitive skin, leaving that telltale beard burn he always did when he touched you with it. That deep, gravelly voice answered in a quiet threat, "Call me those last two again and you won't be going at all. I'll break you over this desk right now." His breath tickled your skin and you couldn't help the twitch as you fought to pull away with an amused smile at him.

You pushed him back to keep him an arms length away. Looking into those blue hues as you nodded, "Aye aye Captain." His eyes shot down to your lips even as you pulled away, backing up towards the door. "Two rights and a left to get out?" He nodded and you slipped out of his office smoothing the front of your shirt. A shower, a quick walk for Cerberus, and then some sleep. If you could sleep at all.

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

So my friend made a lil drawin of Price and Speck and I am absolutely in love with it. Look at them, cute af. Thank you for that @missmurder357

Part 5

Pairing: Price x Male!Reader

WC: 23.3k

Synopsis: Got a lil competition inbound, some more of Cerberus being the besto boi, and some NSFW content cause I truly just cannot stop myself. I am insatiable so feed

Warnings: NSFW smut, mentions of blood but I'm not describing it

The shower you'd shared with John hadn't lasted very long after you'd both already been satisfied for the time being. And as you both slipped back into the locker room you split up to head for your individual lockers. It was silent enough you could have heard a pin drop, not an awkward one though, it was comfortable. Like when you could call someone and just sit on the phone with them listening to their breathing for hours. You pulled on a pair of sweats and groaned as you took a seat on the bench in the aisle, hand sliding over the stitches in your thigh hidden beneath the fabric, testing the pain that sparked along your thigh at the touch.

Movement caught your eye and you turned to see John, now dressed in his jeans and t-shirt you’d seen on him earlier, those blue eyes watching you closely. As he took a step forward he asked, "You still good Speck?" His head tilted with the question, arms crossing as he neared you.

A slow nod followed his question in answer before you said, "Yeah I'm good." His eyes watched you, not believing you for a second and so you threw out the social niceties you usually stuck with when talking to people. A shrug lifted your shoulders before you grumbled out, "Tired. Been blown up,” you lifted the finger of one hand, “shot,” another finger raised, “knocked out, interrogated, fired I guess," you paused before muttering, "again," under your breath. That got the furrowed brow as you stared at the five fingers you’d already raised and lifted a second hand to count on it, "Got smacked in the face by a door. Almost got shot in the head. And then just got manhandled in a shower." One corner of the Brit’s mouth quirked up in a smug smirk before you huffed out and held up your eight fingers, "So yeah been a long damn day John. I'm fine, but I'm tired."

John nodded, smiling when you held up your hands to show him the tally, "That's fair." His eyes followed you as you stood back up from the bench and turned around to throw the two towels into your duffel bag. You needed to do laundry anyway, not like you had much to wash in the first place. After losing the one set of clothes to the explosion and subsequent blood stains, and even more to the makeshift bandages you were down to a pair of jeans, a pair of sweats, the pants you'd worn on the mission, and two t-shirts since you'd lost the other to your bloody nose. Well that and the Georgia Bulldogs hat you never went anywhere without, and the pair of cowboy boots shoved at the bottom of your bag with all the stuff that reminded you of home.

Arms wrapped around your bare torso without warning, his mouth beside your ear as he whispered, "You sure you don't want to come back with me, Love?" Oh God, you leaned back into him the moment that word left his mouth, "I've got all that room in my bunkhouse now since Ghost is gone. I'm sure the Lieutenant won't mind. Probably wouldn't even notice if you don't come back all night." It would be nice to sleep next to a warm body, well a warm body that wasn't a dog anyway. Like he was reading your mind he rumbled low, "He likes dogs. He'd take care of the pup. You wouldn't even have to ask, Love."

Oh yeah, you were liking the sound of this more and more. Every word he spoke was accompanied by a hum of satisfaction from your throat at the prospect. The pads of his fingers dragging their rough texture over the skin and soft curls of your bare abdomen. “Come back with me, yeah? I’d give you a nice massage, work all those aches out of your muscles.” A light kiss pressed against your neck before he suckled at the skin, you’d thought he was spent but apparently he was just getting started. “And then I’ll fuck you till the sun-” a buzz in the pocket of his jeans cut off his coming promises.

He froze and just like whenever your own phone had buzzed he waited as another notification went off. Damnit no, not now he was just getting to the good part, “Don’t stop now.” The request slipped out before you could stop it, and you could see the tumultuous look in his eyes. You could see his desire to listen but you knew the need to check was, annoyingly, far greater at the moment. Still his fingers squeezed into your flesh, stalled by your plea and yet still asking for your permission, “I didn’t mean that," you forced out a huff of amusement to put him at ease. "Answer it,” one hand pulled off of your stomach and slid into his pocket as he grabbed his phone, both of you frustrated with whoever it was currently trying to get in touch with the man behind you.

The phone was just out of your sight as he looked down at the message. It only took a couple seconds before he slid the phone back in his pocket, returning his hand to where it had previously been. “You gotta go then?” He nodded and hummed an affirmative against your shoulder, seeming almost disappointed in himself for leaving you behind. “I’ve gotta go see Soap anyway, you can give me that massage some other time. Not like I'm going anywhere yet right?” John seemed to tense at that, at the prospect you were going somewhere ever. He didn't seem to like that idea in the slightest and to be fair you didn't either but you doubted he got any say in upper management.

He pulled you tighter against him for just a few heartbeats before his hold began to loosen, “We should talk more though Speck. About us I mean,” the request made you tense up but he made an attempt to soothe your unseen worry with an easy smile. Quickly saying, "I'll let you know when I'm done,” he pulled away from you with one last squeeze at your hip. When you turned to find him he was already backing up towards the door, “Shouldn't be too long. They can't have gotten much out of the guy yet.” He seemed to think better of that statement and chuckled out a quick, “I hope,” before he unlocked the door and stepped out.

Alone again while you watched as the door closed behind him. He wanted to talk about you and him? Was there a you and John though? Sure it'd been some good fucks, well some really good fucks, but did that mean you were something now? Your only experiences with a relationship was a girl you'd gotten pregnant at eighteen and only married because that was what your parents had told you was the right thing to do. It'd been the only time you'd ever been with a girl before. You'd just wanted to see what it was like and to be honest you'd hated just about every second of it. But you'd been a horny teenager back then, you could have gotten off to a fuckin soup ladel back in those days.

But John was different, sure you'd recognized that the second he'd begged you on the couch to let him take care of you. When you'd said things you had no control over you knew he was unraveling you at your seams. But you weren't worth his time. You didn't even have a job anymore, and wasn't that all you were good for? That's what your ex-wife had always told you anyway. You remembered her vividly telling you, on more than one occasion that, "Since you can't take care of your kid, take care of this house, or take care of me I guess the only thing you're good for is that shitty paycheck you bring home every month. Even that doesn't take care of us though."

And she'd been right, the only thing you'd ever brought to your only real relationship had been disappointment, weariness, and nonchalance in regard to everything that had driven that woman up the walls. She could have screamed at you for an hour straight, she had before, and the most she'd get from you was a quiet nod or shrug. You never even fought back with her, it was how you'd been raised. Besides your job was to fight, to kill people, you didn't want to experience the same things just trying to sit at home and relax. Just give her what she wants and she will leave you alone. But you hadn't been able to give her what she wanted, she always asked for too much of what you didn't have.

Anxiety pounded in around you, clutched at your heart in a way that forced you to sit down on the bench. Good Lord, were you having a heart attack? You pressed your fingers to your neck, feeling for the pulse you knew would be racing just beneath the skin. Sure enough it was, your breathing getting rapid now as you fought the memories down. The other hand pressed to your chest, feeling the pound against your sternum. Letting your hands drop to your thighs you held them in an iron grip, arms shaking with the effort to control yourself. Can't control the past Speck, but you can control whether you pass out right here on this bench.

John isn't her, for one he's a fuckin man idiot, and God is he an attractive one. The thought washed a wave of amusement over you, a small smile turning up your mouth despite your racing heart. Here you were thinking you were in the middle of having a heart attack and you were still thinking about that damn Brit. A flash of his blue eyes in your mind broke your memories of the past, settled your racing mind long enough to feel the grip you currently had on your thigh. As well as the pain that was flared there the longer you held it. Your fingers released in a second and as you stared down a stain of blood spread on your jeans. "Damnit," you muttered, letting out a sharp sigh at the sight.

Always something. You didn’t bother with a shirt, Soap would make you take it off as soon as you got there to tend your wounds. Besides, both of yours smelt more than ripe and you weren't about to walk around after a shower smelling like sweat and wet dog. Slinging the packed duffel bag over one shoulder you headed back to the bunkhouses. Cerberus lifted his head when you came in, Ghost was nowhere to be seen still and he didn't look like he'd moved anything in yet either. "Hey Cerberus, you good in here?" His tail wagged lazily behind him but he made no attempt to move, exhausted after everything that had happened and still recovering.

To be fair if you weren't 100% sure you'd popped a stitch in your thigh you would have probably crawled into bed right then and there. But the little growing stain on your pants made it very clear you needed to go find the dark haired Scotsman. Leaning down you ran a hand over the top of his head, his fur had dried completely by now and the smell of wet dog had begun to dissipate, clinging only to the towel he’d been laying on. “Alright buddy, hier,” it took him a couple seconds to get up and make his way over to you. When he finally did, you patted your bed and said, “Hopp,” watching him jump up and look back at you before you finally said “Geh Schlafen.”

Cerberus immediately laid on his side, tail thumping a couple times against the sheets before he closed his eyes. You gave him another rub between the ears before heading back out the door. So close, nearly done. Just gotta get this checked out and then you can sleep for however long they allow it. One last push, that’s it, just one last push.

Down the stairs and down a couple bunkhouses until you get to the one that Soap and Gaz shared. Up the stairs and a light knock on the door. Your progress halted for a moment though not sure if you heard a voice inside or not. Another light knock and you were certain you heard a voice that time.

You pushed the door open and took half a step inside before your eyes locked on the bodies currently bent over the bed and half naked. The one behind with dark hair and a mohawk, that was Soap. The other with blonde hair that you didn’t recognize. They didn’t even turn around, probably hadn’t even heard you over their own sounds and the quiet words they were saying to one another.

Why didn’t they lock the door, Jesus Christ, so much mental scarring could have been avoided if they had just locked the damn door. Instead you pulled the door shut behind you, letting out a sigh as you took a seat on the step, rubbing at your eye while you shook your head. You’d already seen too much of these men’s personal lives, too damn much.

It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak up on anyone, you were just trying to get your wounds looked after by someone who had a little more than a staple gun to do it with. Slowly your head tilted as you thought to yourself, ‘Who was the guy Soap had been plowin?’ Big, bigger than you that was for sure. Huh. Well you’d see soon enough whenever they were finally done. If you made it that long anyway, they looked like they could go at it for hours in there.

In the meantime you sat on the porch, the stain on your leg growing slowly and the sounds inside the bunkhouse behind you increasing in volume right along with it. Base residents came by every now and then, probably taking a shortcut to wherever they were actually headed. They glanced at you on the steps with a weird look, probably wondering who the hell you were and why you were just sitting outside for no reason in this heat. That was a fair question you were beginning to ask yourself at this point.

Without even realizing it at first your leg began to bounce, a low grumble leaving you, “I need a pack of damn smokes. Wonder if anyone else on this team smokes.” A sigh left you as you reached to check your phone for the time but then remembered you no longer had one. Damnit why couldn’t you just sleep? Well you could always just duct tape something else to your leg…or just duct tape by itself since you were kind of running low on clothes now. It would hurt coming off, but damn if it wouldn’t be nice to go to sleep right now.

Fuck it. You pushed yourself up from the stairs and were about to head down when the door finally opened behind you. A masked face slipped out from behind the heavy door, freezing the moment hazel eyes landed on your face even as the door shut beside him. Your expression stayed flat, lips pinched into a tight line while an eyebrow raised curiously up at the Lieutenant. Well you’d found out who the big guy was, but damn if you wished you hadn’t. You know he really didn’t look like a blonde underneath all that grease paint and his mask.

“What are you doing here?” The thick accent fell out of the man’s mouth, almost catching you off guard. Yeah, definitely the Lieutenant. His shirt was incredibly wrinkled with the collar pulled halfway to the side and baring half of his shoulder. The balaclava was barely covering the neck you knew was sporting several hickeys and bite marks. You’d seen them on his pale flesh. Some were older than others so it was unlikely that this was the first time they’d ever been together. Unless this was some kind of Sacred Band of Thebes thing they all had going on, God you hoped not. You were pretty open minded but the idea of bouncing around from one guy to another was just not your forte. But then again…No, not for you.

The two of you continued to stare one another down for a moment, the memory of watching the two of them even if it had only been for a second was still trapped in your memory. He expected an answer though, or at the very least for you to get out of the way and quit blocking the stairs. “Soap said he wanted me to come by to put new bandages on. Hence the no shirt. Well that and it's freakin hot.” He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing at you through the mask before you asked, “What are you doin here though? You haven’t even moved your stuff over yet.”

You could see the flick of his eyes, the attempt to mask the truth as he did his face when he answered, “Same.” And the second you crested the top of the stairs he was moving by you and disappearing down the path. Presumably to move his stuff over to your shared bunkhouse. Shaking your head you pulled the door open. Immediately you were assaulted by the smell of sex in the room and turned to find Soap in only a pair of shorts laying on his bed with his hands behind his head.

He peeked open a single azure hue before closing them again, his smile beaming at the ceiling while he stretched out like a cat in the sun. Good Lord he was a cocky one wasn’t he. “Hey, I’m kinda tired. You mind being quick about this? Pretty sure I popped a stitch.” That caught his attention as he sat up, looking up at your bicep and forearm with a furrowed brow. You tapped your thigh instead and his eyes traveled down to the growing stain of red on your pants.

A finger pointed you to a chair as he pushed up from the bed, “Take yer pants off then Speck. Gotta plug yer leak first.” That turned the corner of your mouth up in a smile. At least he was funny after he made you wait on the damn stairs. He dug around under his bed for a second before dragging a big black bag out and dropping it in front of the chair you were sitting in. He plopped himself into the chair opposite you. Watching as you lifted your hips and slid your jeans down your thighs revealing the slowly leaking wound to him. “Damn, how’d you do that then?” He’d already donned a pair of gloves as he reached forward and inspected the wound carefully.

Shrugging you leaned back, “I’m not sure. I was just kind of squeezing my thigh and when I looked down it was bleeding through my jeans.” Soap gave you a skeptical look then, but didn’t question you further especially when you grumbled out, “Only got two pairs now. Two pairs of pants and two shirts, what a wardrobe. Gonna be walking outside as naked as the day I was born here soon.”

The Scotsman gave a low chuckle of amusement as he reached down to dig through the black bag, “Is that really all ye got?” Your quiet nod had him shaking his own head, “Ye might want to talk to Price about that. Or maybe Laswell since yer all about that covert shite." He pulled out a needle and worked to thread it, with his tongue sticking out just a bit between his teeth as he focused.

You watched for a few quiet seconds before asking, "So what was Ghost doing here? I was expecting him to already be sleeping. Everyone's gotta be exhausted after all that bs today." Blue eyes flicked to you as he missed the eye with the suture, scowling at the needle as he tried again.

Finally the suture threaded through and he finally answered, "He was just asking if we're working out tomorrow." He lied so easily it nearly made you smile and call him on it. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in his voice as he spoke, a masterful performance. You might have even believed him if you hadn't known any better.

The memory of their bodies slapping against one another still scarred your memory and burned your retinas though. "Huh, is that right?" He nodded his affirmative as you went quiet and he slid the needle through your skin, restitching the wound. Another question came to mind then, "Soap I've gotta be honest, you don't exactly look like a medic. You seem more like the guy Cerberus would alert to every time you're around. Explosions and fire and all that."

His smile reappeared on his face in an instant as he answered, "That's cause I am.” When he glanced up at you he caught your confusion so he explained, “Price sent me to learn all this stuff. He said I kept getting hurt or some shite, it was kind of funny actually there a few times. Said if I was the one that needed it all the time I should be able to fix myself up because apparently that’s just efficient or something. Which is pure mince.” You nodded at that, as he pulled out a roll of fresh bandages and started to wrap your thigh. "Besides no one else really knew any medical stuff back then so having someone who knows the basics at least is a good idea."

Another quiet nod and he taped off the bandage on your thigh, waiting till you pulled your jeans back up before he went to work on your arm. "Since you asked me a question I think I should get one myself." What’s the worst that could happen? Questions were harmless, you didn’t have to answer if you didn’t want to. Your quick nod was the only encouragement he needed to keep going, "So, what's up between you and the Captain? You two know each other or something?" Well that was a less than ideal question he could ask. Questions in fact were not harmless it seemed, and he more than expected an answer if the look he was giving you right now was anything to go by.

Shifting in the chair you leaned away from Soap trying to think of a viable answer before finally giving him a shrug not daring to meet his eye, “No one knows me Soap. That’s how it’s supposed to be. I’m just your average guy with a dog that you see walking down the street and then you forget. Nothing about me is memorable, nothing about me is meant to be recognizable. That’s the point.” He eyed you carefully, obviously your explanation wasn’t doing it for him. He knew you were avoiding answering the question. You couldn’t lie to him. Fuck, come up with something, say something, anything, “What about you and Ghost? What’s up with you two?” Now that shut him up. For a moment anyway.

Soap’s words clammed up in less than a second while he thought about how to answer that question. You watched as he leaned over your extended forearm wrapping the bandages around your wound, “He’s my friend and you’re avoiding my question Speck.” He smirked up at you through his long, dark lashes, “Why is he so pissed off at you?” Oh that’s what he’s talking about? Well shit you thought he’d figured out that John and you were doing the same thing that he and Ghost were.

Anger you could explain. Anger was easy for you, “Probably because I’ve been thwarting all of you for eight months and you couldn’t even figure out who I was, why I was doing it, or even how I was doing it. I showed all of you up with just me and a dog and a guy trying to kill me.” Soap pressed the tape on the end of the bandage at your forearm and narrowed his gaze at you with a good natured smirk on his face.

He moved up to your bicep and shook his head, “Oh now that’s jobby.” He pressed against the wound there to draw out another shift in the chair from you, “You didnae thwart us, you were taking their families ye bawbag.” You gave him a shrug as you looked down where he was wrapping your arm. You’d gotten the conversation away from you and John at least, but it still made you uncomfortable to talk about the people you’d hurt.

The look of nonchalance, the look that could have rivaled a corpse’s, spread over your face at the memory. The mask you put on to hide the feelings that raged beneath. “It doesn’t matter how I did it, Soap, it just matters that I did it. Me and a dog did what you and the rest of your squad couldn’t.” Soap scoffed at that as he slapped the tape onto the last bandage and you kept pushing his buttons with your words, “You and the rest of those guys never would have even gotten us if Cerb and I hadn’t just been put through an explosion.” The Scot sat back in his chair, mouth open in disbelief at what you were saying even with a smile on his face, “And don’t forget the fact that I was being chased by more than just yall.”

Soap crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, “What ye think yer better than us then?” You gave a shrug with a smug look coming over your face in place of the nonchalance, “Oh now that’s just- No yer not, we could take ye even on yer best day. We are literally the best out there. That’s what we do,” Soap threw his used gloves into the trash as he stood back up, moving to put the bag back in its place as well.

You stood up and smirked, “Correction, you’re the best the United Kingdom has to offer. Not many to choose from there I’m afraid.” You saw the laugh shake his shoulders as he bent over, disbelief obvious in his gaze when he glanced back at you, “It’s a bet then Soap.” A dark brow raised at you in question, watching as he stood back up from where he was sliding the bag back under the bed. “Cerb and I win, you buy me a bottle of the good stuff, you guys win and I’ll admit the UK is better than the US.” You fixed a smug smirk to your face then, “We’ll wipe the floor with your asses. Easy as pie. Anything you want to do, we’ll win.”

A step towards you, crowding your personal space as you continued to smile down at him, “Yer on then. Tomorrow 13:00. Sound good ta you?” You tilted your head to one side, glancing above his head before tilting your head to the other side as if you were contemplating his challenge. Finally you gave him an answering nod, “Good then. Go get some sleep. I don’t want ye complaining tomorrow when ye lose.” Backing up slowly from him towards the door he added before you left, “Meet at the mess in the morning. I’ll let the guys know what we’re doing.” A quick nod and finally you were out the door, free to go back to your bunkhouse. Thank God.

Trudging up the stairs you headed into the shared bunkhouse. Ghost barely even glanced up at you from where he was laying down with his phone in his hand as he scrolled through something. Stripping free of your jeans you threw them on top of the duffel at the foot of the bed. You didn’t bother with the sheets too tired to move Cerberus who was in no shape to move off the bed anyway. His chocolate eyes followed you from where he was stretched out on the pillow. You wrapped around his body rather than move him, electing to use him as your pillow rather than the fresh pillow you’d been allotted for the time being. It didn’t even take five seconds once you’d pressed your face into the black void of fur before you were dead to the world around you.

There wasn’t nearly enough time between when your eyes closed and the furry, black pillow beneath you was shifting and whining. “Shh Cerb,” you groaned into his brindled fur but the second you spoke he was standing up and forcing you off. You rolled to your side and cracked open an eye, staring at the waving black tail that had made its way over towards the door. Your eyes closed against the harsh light streaming in through the two windows that all the bunkhouses sported. Surprisingly your internal alarm clock hadn’t woken you up and there was certainly no phone to do it instead.

The rumbling voice from the door was the only thing that jolted you back into the present and the situation you now found yourself in, “Good to see you’re still here.” John stood at the door bringing you back to reality and the memories that came with it. “Figured you ran off again or something,” your look of confusion as you sat yourself up on your elbow prompted him to clarify, “My bunkhouse. You were supposed to be there last night after you got through with Soap. I was waiting for you, Speck. Something happen?”

Ah shit, you’d completely forgotten about that after you’d made your bet with Soap. You’d been so exhausted, your entire body weary and aching, last night it’d slipped your mind as you basically fell into the bed across from Ghost. Instinctively you flicked your gaze to where the Lieutenant was supposed to be. Thankfully the bed was empty of the large body.

“I, um, I forgot, shit my bad” you answered lamely, sitting up in the bed with a grimace as the injuries flared to the forefront of your mind. You felt bruised and broken from everything that had happened. Battered from the explosion that had thrown your life into the chaotic mess that it was beginning to feel like now. “Sorry, I was exhausted, I didn’t mean to blow you off,” you pushed yourself up to the side of the bed, stretching your muscles out with a languid roll of your body. John was watching you as Cerberus paced the room back and forth, his energy reserves seemingly restored now.

Standing up on shaky legs you took a step forward, Cerberus darting in front of your feet and tripping you up accidentally. A strong hand splayed across your chest, your own hands grabbing hold of his sides as you steadied yourself. He was wearing clothes but you could still feel the warmth beneath the fabric of the fatigues he was wearing.

You could remember the scarred skin just beneath where your hand was resting on him. It was a bit jagged like he’d been cut with a knife there, and as you ran your fingers over it you swore you could feel the textured skin there. His whispered words against your ear had you struggling to breathe though as he asked, “You good there, Speck?” His fingers were wrapped around your ribs, and you became glaringly aware of the fact you weren’t wearing a shirt. Nor were you wearing any pants and the blood rushing below the waistband of your underwear was moving faster than a river.

Nodding quickly your voice went up an octave as you answered and tried to back up before you realized that would be ten times more embarrassing than just staying still, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You shifted in his grip, this wasn’t your fault right? You’d just woken up to the voice of the man you’d been wanting for eight months. One time in the shower wasn’t enough to end that streak of starvation. Clearing your throat you tried to keep your voice casual this time, “I’m sorry about last night, it was a long damn day John.” There was a smile on his mouth when you looked up, his brows raised in a way that was annoyingly endearing. Stepping back slowly you glanced out the window catching sight of the sun, “What time is it?”

The smile fell before he answered, “11:30 why?” Your eyes went wide in front of him, causing his dark brows to rise with a bit of worry in his gaze. Clothes, you need clothes, and Cerberus needs to take a piss and you need to take a piss. God too much to do and not enough time to do it before you had somewhere to be.

His hands let you go as you took a couple steps back and answered, “I made a bet with Soap yesterday to try and get out of his bunkhouse a little faster.” Turning you moved towards your duffel before going through the last pieces of clothes you currently owned. A quick sniff had you recoiling as you dropped it and shook your head in frustration, “Damnit I don’t even have pants.”

The man behind you cleared his throat and you turned to see him patting a set of fatigues as he laid them on the table. “He mentioned something about that at mess this morning. Laswell is handling getting you some other clothes for more clandestine things and another set of fatigues, but I had an extra set of these laying around for today at least.” Damn did that man look good standing in the light of the window with that little smile on his mouth. Knowing he'd just saved your ass from the shit talk Soap would have dished out for a lame excuse like 'I didn't have any pants.' God he was perfect.

Stepping towards him you smirked down at the clothes, flipping the collar back on the shirt before asking quietly, “How did you know my size?” Fingers grazed over your hip, his other hand reaching for your chin to tilt it up as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Once again stepping into your personal space with renewed fervor to taste and feel you. A deep hunger was aching in the both of you that hadn’t been satisfied by your relatively short time in the shower yesterday. It was not even a fraction of what you had missed out on over the past eight months. And in no way was it satisfied by what little time you'd been able to spend together so far.

His hand slid down your side, mirroring the other at your opposite hip. Lips danced over yours as his finger played a familiar tune over your bare skin, turning your thoughts to mush until you could think only of him. How did he do that? God he was absolutely magical. The hands at your hips moved around to dig into the flesh of your ass, and he smiled against your mouth as your hips rolled against his. Both of you finding a familiar ache that needed to be sated and knowing only one person could satisfy it right then and there. Your teeth sunk into his lip right before a whine sounded from the door, claws scratching against the doorframe and breaking your concentration.

There was a soft chuckle against your mouth as the hands pulled you flush against him again, a promise for later now as the both of you began to cool off. “I pay attention, Love,” he finally answered your question. Another quick kiss pressed against your lips before he pulled away and muttered, “Plus I have one of your shirts. You left it at my house that night,” his hands slid back up your back before he finally stepped back, just narrowly missing tripping over the now pacing dog.

A sigh fell out of you at the loss before you were able to get your head back on right. You glanced at Cerberus who was still pawing at the door with his quiet whines. Damn if you didn’t love that dog like your own son. “Thanks for the fatigues, you wouldn’t happen to know where Soap wants me to go, do you? Or maybe what he's cooked up?” You pulled the pants on as John watched with eyes that held nothing behind them but impure thoughts. Before you caught his attention with a quick wave and broke him from his trance anyway.

He sniffed and ran a hand over his mouth before shaking his head, “No clue what he has planned for you no. He just mentioned we’re all supposed to be at the mess by 13:00.” You pulled the shirt on over your head as he continued, "Figured I should come make sure you were awake. And, well, still intact enough for a bet." He eyed you with that smug smile that made that little voice in your head say, ‘Show him just how intact you are.’

Not right now though, you had a bet to win and a meal to eat. “Hier,” you said with a gruff voice, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Cerberus ran at you, taking a seat between your knees while you fitted him with his vest and lead. Slipping it around your waist you stood back up and found John's gaze again, "So where's the mess then? Cerb and I need to eat before we do whatever this is." Your fingers ran over the head at your hip as the Brit led you out of the bunkhouse.

The mess hall was brimming with bodies, thick with the nearly overwhelming noise of idle chatter between friends. It seemed the lunch rush was already in full swing. Joining the line with the dog at your side, your eyes followed the Captain as he weaved through the people to a table occupied by the men you'd met in the squad. Even the blonde woman was there, the one who had taken the prisoner yesterday. Maybe you’d finally get to meet her then.

The line moved slowly as you filled your tray with enough food for you and to slip some to the Dutchie, protocols be damned. Dancing through the mingling bodies with Cerberus at your side you finally made your way to the table where everyone else was sitting. Konig, Watcher, Soap, and Ghost sat on one side with the blonde woman on one side of John and Gaz on the other. It left you with only one place to sit, across from your new roommate and next to Gaz. Cerberus laid down next to you on the floor, out of the way so no one kicked or tripped on him when they passed by..

Shoveling in a mouthful of food you finally tuned into the conversation they were all having. "-heard Cap so panicked. Thought he was gonnae stroke out when I found the earpiece all smashed to wee bits on the ground. Sayin’ the feckers done run off without us." Watcher gulped down some of his drink, a smile on his face as he sat between Soap and Konig.

"Da," Konig answered as he looked between the blonde woman and Gaz. "He had that man on the ground yelling at him. The whole time the man is just yelling back 'No English! No English!' And the Captain is still asking where Speck is and shaking him like a, um," the German paused. Turning to Watcher and asking, “How do you say Schlagsahne?” The ginger seemed to think for a second before he leaned over to whisper something to Konig and the big man nodded quickly, “Skooshy cream.” John was taking a chilled sip from his own glass, closing his eyes against the teasing from the team with a poorly hidden smile on his face.

You however were looking between them all and shaking your head before asking, “The fuck is skooshy cream?” Eyes turned to you, seeming to just notice you’d sat down. Meanwhile your eyebrows were still raised in question, wondering what the hell they were talking about.

Gaz laughed beside you and shrugged, “You know mate, the squirty cream you get from the supermarket. You shake it up real good, it’s white and foamy.”

Another shake of your head in confusion as you asked, “Are ya talkin about shaving cream?” The Brits around you shook their heads in unison, you could even see amusement hidden in the hazel eyes across from you behind his mask. The big man tilted his head back and you saw his mouth open beneath the mask, acting like he was spraying something inside. Your head tilted until Soap finally made the spray noise to accompany it and it finally clicked, “Oh! I get it, you’re talking about whipped cream. You brits and your weird ass names, I swear man.” You shook your head and took a bite from the pile of food on your plate before slipping an apple slice down to the dog beneath you.

John was the one who made a disagreeing noise in his throat as he leaned forward on the table to look past Gaz at you. “Our weird names? It’s not our fault Americans don’t know proper English.” There was a smirk on his face when you looked sideways at him, nearly choking as you tried to laugh and forgot you were still stuffing your face full of food.

He watched as you chewed a forkful of the food, finally swallowing down most of it so you could actually take in a breath and answer, “Proper English? Not my fault Americans learned how to say everything we need to in the least amount of words possible. Yall are just jealous cause you’re over there piecing together thirty sentences to say what we can say in ten words or less.” Taking a long drink from your cup of water you pulled the tray of food closer and leaned over to take another bite. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were before but it had been way too long since you’d last eaten a real meal.

It was Soap who finally turned to you and asked, "Alright, alright so what the fuck actually happened in there huh? You went in and all we could hear was, 'blah blah bark growl blah' from yer mic and then a gunshot." The Scotsman didn't even attempt to mimic the languages you had been speaking inside the home, knowing he would never be able to even come close, especially only from the memory of you speaking.

You smiled around your mouthful of food and shook your head, avoiding the eyes on you from around the table. Ripping off a piece of the meaty portion of whatever this was you’d gotten from selection available. A hand slipped under the table and you felt Cerberus licking it off the tips of your fingers before his head fell back to the floor. You expected all of them to have been back to talking to one another but instead they were still watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give your account after having heard everyone else’s side of the story.

Shifting on the bench seat, no longer used to having so much attention on you, you gave a quick shrug, "He told me we couldn't talk outside so I followed him in. Figured I was dead whether I went inside or refused so might as well make an attempt to get what we needed. Plus I had Cerberus and he wasn't alerting so I figured…Fuck it, you know?" Chuckles in varying degrees of cynicism echoed around the table as you lifted your cup to your lips and took a long drink of water.

A raised hand from the man beside you stopped you from going on as he asked, “Fuck it? That’s the only plan you had?”

Swallowing hard you shrugged and nodded at Gaz, “Well yeah. Fuck it is about the only thing I think when I’m making a decision. Either I don’t go in and I come back empty handed and you kill me for not keeping up my end of the deal,” you paused to see Ghost nod slowly and continued, “Or I go in and they kill me the second the door is closed. At least goin in I didn’t have to worry about getting smacked in the skull by a sniper I couldn’t see however many yards away. So I went in.” The others around the table seemed to be both confused and concerned.

All except for Ghost who was nodding as if he agreed with your assessment of the situation you’d been in at the time. “Well he was acting weird so I asked him if someone else was inside the building and low and behold there was. He failed to mention there was another exit back there or that there were two of them, but whatever. So I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and went to the first door down the hall. And I would have commed you but I couldn't exactly speak in English at the time. Didn’t want them to know I was coming. That’s why I switched from Pashto to Farsi mid-conversation." You paused to take another drink and another bite of the food, handing some more down to Cerberus.

Watcher raised his hand then and you glanced at him, head tilting before he asked, “You speak Pashto and Farsi?” A quick nod had him asking another question before you could speak, “How many languages do you actually speak?” He seemed simply curious but it had you shifting on the bench again. People only asked that question when they thought they could exploit it, at least that was usually your experience with them anyway.

When the others seemed to get a hint of curiosity though you got the sense you were expected to answer. “Well if you’re talking about just straight up fluency then ten. If you’re talking about how many languages I know enough of and understand enough of to hold a basic conversation then it gets a bit muddy.” The confusion around the table prompted you to clarify as you cleared your throat and sat up, “So technically I know Arabic, Pashto, Farsi, Spanish, English, Hebrew, Swahili, Zulu, Yoruba, and Oromo all fluently. However, I do know some basics in the Niger-Congo dialects but there are so many dialects in that region it’s kind of hard to count how many I would actually be able to speak and converse in and understand.” The eyes around the table were beginning to make you uncomfortable with their stares as you added quickly, “So yeah, I speak ten languages fluently.”

Another shovel of food to take a quick breather as well as a drink before you continued, "So I went to the first door in the hall. Had Cerberus go in first but the guy we tracked down got out through another door and then out the back exit. I didn’t know there were two doors for one room, you know? So I went after him down the hall with Cerberus but all the sudden I get smacked in the face by a fuckin door. There was another guy in one of the rooms." You shrugged and tilted your head, "And I took that personally. So I put a knife through his arm, sent Cerberus in through the door, and then I took his gun. Must have lost the earpiece during that little altercation, you all saw the rest though I guess. Saw enough to find me at least." Ripping another portion of the meat off you slipped it under the table to the waiting dog beneath.

Gaz clapped you on the back and shook his head, "Fuck it, mate." You nodded at that and tipped your cup towards them before tilting it back and downing what was left of the water. The dark skinned Brit beside you turned to Soap then and leaned forward, “So now that we’re all finally here are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” The dark haired Scotsman glanced your way as if you were gonna say something but you were still downing your breakfast and lunch combo, too busy to pay him any mind now. Besides you were finally out of the spotlight you weren’t about to thrust yourself back in unnecessarily.

Soap finally cleared his throat and said, “Well cowboy over there and me made a bet yesterday. He thinks he’s better than us.” Eyes turned to you in unison and you shot your gaze back down to the plate feigning more interest in whatever this jelly-like stuff on your plate was than the conversation currently being had. “So I figured we’d put him to the test, lads. Sniping, clearing house, I mean the works, see how good he really is. If we win he has to admit that the UK, and more importantly Scotland, is better than the US. If he wins we pitch in and buy him a bottle of the good stuff.”

They all acted as if they weren’t interested in what Soap was selling, but anything having to do with competition and bets had more than piqued their interest. The woman on the other side of John spoke up next, “So then what am I doing here Soap? I’m not involved in this.” Another American? Huh, that was interesting.

The Scot held up a finger and nodded, “Aye ye are Laswell. You’re gonna be our neutral party and therefore our scorekeeper.” She seemed to think for a moment before finally nodding her agreement and Soap cast his glance around the others sitting at the table, “So how’s about it lads?” Sounds of agreement rose up from everyone at the table then as Soap turned your way, “Whenever you’re done eating then, Speck.” You smirked his way and lowered the tray below the table.

Cerberus finished off the rest of the food on the tray before you slid it back on the table and shrugged at Soap, “We’re ready.” Soap pushed up from the table, beckoning everyone with a wave of his hand out of the still crowded mess hall. The group followed in staggered packs, Laswell talked quietly with Watcher and John while Gaz and Ghost muttered together and Konig and Soap were joking together as they led yall. You lagged behind the group, watching them all with quiet interest. They’d definitely been together a long time, and they obviously had deep roots with one another.

“First up,” Soap’s voice drug your attention up from the asphalt you’d been watching pass underfoot, “Who is the better sniper?”

You glanced between the sniper rifles on display and the men who were obviously pleased with this being the first challenge, “You know Soap when I said we’d beat you at anything I meant more like cleaning house drills.Things that tested both Cerberus and I, not seeing who the better sniper is.” The dog barked unprompted at that, as if he agreed and wanted something to do now that yall were up and moving.

Ghost huffed as he grabbed one of the rifles off the table, inspecting it for a moment before he said, “Cause you know you’re going to lose. Now hurry up,” he started towards the three stations already setup. You lost track of him as you turned back to the tables.

Two more rifles were currently waiting on the table in front of you. Your head tilted as you looked at them taking a step forward and jokingly asked the Scotsman, “What’s this one for Soap? Is Cerberus supposed to be taking shots now too or something?”

A deep voice made you tense then as it answered for Soap right by your shoulder, “That would be mine, Speck.” John took his rifle off the table and followed Ghost to the three stations currently set up for yall. You shook your head and let out the breath you'd sucked in, a quick glare flashing down at the rifle. “So what then yall get two tries and I only get one?” You questioned Soap as you followed behind the other two men.

The Scotsman shook his head following beside you, “You’ll get two tries, the best of those two will be what Laswell scores. They each get one try,” he pointed to John and Ghost in turn. You gave a slow nod of understanding before Soap added with a grin, “Unless Cerberus wants to take your second set of shots for you. He might be better than you, Speck.”

Your eyes locked onto Soap before you muttered, “Brummen,” listening to Cerberus’ growl rumble out of him towards the shorter Scotsman. The little flinch made you smile as you reached down to run a hand over the dog’s head, chuckling at his reaction.

“Would ye stop doing that?” Soap sounded exasperated but you could see smiles from the others behind you. “He’s going to start thinking I’m lunch or something!” The man grumbled at you before pointing to your target down range, “Get ready. Or you won’t be winning shite,” another light chuckle left you as you knelt. Casting a glance to your left and right where Ghost and Price were already sighting down range you knew this was going to be bad. Christ you were about to get fucked in this first competition and you could already taste it. Just swallow the bitter pill and get this done with, you’d hit it out of the park with the next one…hopefully.

Setting the rifle down you laid on your stomach, glancing to your right and muttering, “Platz.” The dog sunk down to his belly and you set the stock against your shoulder. Aiming down the sights you let out a sigh, muttering to the Dutchie beside you, “Hope you’re ready Cerb, we’re gonna have to blow it out the water after this.” You caught sight of Ghost on your left turning your way, watching as you fiddled with the scope for a second and adjusted yourself on the ground.

The Scottish voice behind you caught everyone’s attention, all three of you on the ground rolling to look behind you at the man, “Ok boys! You each get five shots at five hundred yards. Except for Speck he gets ten, five on each of the two targets down range.” They both glanced your way before nodding and letting the Scot finish, “The best out of Price and Ghost gets judged for us, and the best out of both of Speck’s gets judged for him. Laswell is keeping score. Got it?” The Scotsman received three quick thumbs up as the three of you rolled back to your stomachs.

It was the woman who took over after that, “Ghost you’re going first. Ready Lieutenant?” It took a few long moments before Laswell finally said, “Fire when ready then.” You watched the man closely, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths until the gun finally went off. A resounding bang echoed by your ears, the other four shots coming in quick succession once he’d gotten a good feel for the trigger.

He flipped the safety back on and let the stock of the gun settle back on the ground as he sat back on his knees. He turned back to Laswell and you listened as the woman said, “That’s gonna be hard to beat.” You turned to catch sight of her with a pair of binoculars up to her eyes as she stared at the target Ghost had been aiming at.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Running a hand over your forehead as you turned towards Ghost, “How bad is it?” The Lieutenant glanced your way and you heard the laugh from him rather than see it with his mask still on. The big man shook his head as he continued to stare down range. Well that was definitely not a good sign.

Shifting on the ground you picked the stock of the gun back up, holding it to your shoulder as you sighted down range. Ghost was still chuckling to your left while you could hear the others whispering behind you. “You’re fucked Speck,” the deep British voices on either side of you were finally kind enough to inform you.

You cast a sideways look at them before sighing out, “Yeah no shit, Sherlock.” Aiming at the target you took in a breath and flipped the safety off. As you let out your next breath you squeezed the trigger, nearly surprised when it finally went off. A bit heavier than you were expecting but hey you hit the target. Half a foot below the inner red. “Son of a bitch,” you adjusted slowly to the quiet laughs around you, putting them out of your head. Never had you claimed to be a sniper, and thank fuck for that or this would have been so far past embarassing.

Another shot and this one was three inches too low, and it drew out another round of laughs. Again you adjusted and the shot went high this time. Too much. “Are you even trying, Cowboy?” Soap asked behind you and you raised a hand over your shoulder, middle finger high in the air in a one finger salute. “No sniper school in the US then?” You shook your head and adjusted again, this time the bullet hit the edge of the red at least.

The next two shots danced around the red and then your first set of shots were done. Laswell hummed behind you and said quickly, “That certainly isn’t gonna do it Speck. You’re up John,” your eyes flicked over to the man on your right. He was stock still, but you didn’t see tension in his form. You could see the rise of his back with every inhale, and the fall every time a breath left him. He held the stock of the rifle against his shoulder, staring down the range at his target.

The sight was akin to watching a painter envisioning their masterpiece before putting it on canvas. Or a composer hearing a tune in their head before they played it. To be completely frank he was beautiful and 100% without a doubt completely in his element. And you, well you were so completely distracted by him he could have aimed the rifle right at your head and you'd have been none the wiser. Too busy admiring the way his body seemed to relax into the rifle at his shoulder, more than comfortable with the weight against him.

He took a few moments longer to set up his shots than Ghost had, adjusting the scope of the rifle a couple times, whispering something to himself about wind and bullet drop. However when he took them it was in much quicker succession, emptying his clip in under seven seconds, you counted every single one, before lowering the stock to the ground and sitting back on his heels. “Nice grouping John, you’re getting a bit slow though. Should start taking more shots at the range,” he huffed to your right and when you glanced back Laswell was smirking behind the binoculars. They were obviously joking, so they’d definitely known each other for a while.

It brought the question to your mind again: Who even was this woman? You had yet to be formally introduced to her but the rest of the squad seemed familiar with her. It was just you in the dark at this point then it would seem. Though you wished you had been acquainted with the only other American on your new team. "Last round for you Speck, fire when ready." Her voice broke you from your thoughts and you shifted on the ground again, aiming to the target on the right this time.

Just breathe and squeeze the trigger slowly, and don't make a fuckin fool of yourself. That's it, that's all you gotta do. Deep breathe in, stock of the gun to your shoulder, safety off, deep breath out, squeeze the trigger, gun fires, red dot hit. It was the first one you'd managed to get a clean shot on yet and pride ran through you at the accomplishment. Don't get cocky now though, you've still got four more to hit. Another shot, and another clean hit through the red, nearly flush through the first hole. Another shot and it veered an eighth of an inch to the left, but it was still cleanly through the red. Three down and two more to go, you've got this Speck just keep breathing. Another shot and you're over adjusting again, calm down, half in the red and half off, you could hear the woman behind you already docking your score. One last shot then you were done, and that's when it always falls apart isn't it. A beautiful pattern and grouping thrown off by a wind you couldn't possibly have foreseen.

The shot goes wide to the left, missing the red by an inch. You push yourself up to sit back on your heels, hands bracing on your thigh as you glance over your shoulder at the woman. It wasn't necessary though, you already knew you'd lost. She shakes her head, "141 gets the first win." Soap pumps a fist in the air, quietly celebrating their win as you turn back to look at the targets set up down range.

John and Ghost stand up on either side of you, the Lieutenant asking Laswell, "Who did better? Me or the old man?" Old man? John was far from old, or maybe you were just saying that cause he made you feel like a teenager again. That was certainly a possibility. Laswell however wasn't divulging that information as she handed Soap his binoculars and stepped away from the two men. "Come on Laswell, who won?" She merely shook her head much to the Lieutenant's annoyance.

Standing up you grabbed your rifle, putting it back where you'd found it on the table and glancing at Soap. He was smirking as he watched you, but he was quick to stop when you gave a little smile and chuckle. Losing at this wasn't worth being upset over, "I'm not a sniper Soap. I got a dog so I never had to do all that math and bullshit." John laughed as he put his rifle back on the table as well and joined the others of the group, shaking his head as he went. It was the truth though, you'd gone to EOD training before you'd let them throw you into marksman training, fuck math. "What's next Soap? I'm dying to know."

The Scotsman cleared his throat and caught the attention of everyone once again as they all quieted around you, "We're running the obstacle course next, get ready!" Groans resounded from many a mouth as Soap shot glares around to the rest of the squad, "This is for our pride as men, as Scots and Brits and Germans. Git yer heads on right lads, we have a competition to win." They all looked at one another, he was surprisingly motivating when properly motivated himself.

John however was not taking the Scot's bait, "I'm not running the obstacle course Soap. If he manages to beat every single one of you at it with a dog strapped to his waist then he can have that win as far as I'm concerned." You smirked at the men in front of you, now an obstacle course that you could do. Both you and Cerberus were more than capable of giving them a run for their money on that.

The Scotsman seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding, it wasn't worth it to argue with John on this, "Fair enough, Captain. You can go with Laswell and wait for us at the end then." With that the blonde American and the brunette Brit headed off in their own direction, muttering together as they went. Soap turned to the rest of you and beckoned you all with a wave, "Alright so it's a five kilometer circuit. Speed and stamina, you've gotta have both if you want to win this." You most certainly did, five kilometers so that was three miles. Shit that was easy pickings for you and Cerberus, that was less than a daily run for the two of you.

Stopping next to a wooden marker, Soap turned back to you, "There are obstacles along the way that both you and the dog have to get over. Don't cheat, man that's just sad, aye?" You gave him a nod, like momma always says God don't like cheaters. "Unless there is physically no way for Cerb to do it, like with the tire flips." Another nod and he pointed at the line drawn in the dirt in front of you. "Line up then, I'll let the Lieutenant count it down though. Have at it Ghost," the Scotsman shot the big man a smile as he joined the growing line of men.

It was you, Cerberus, Ghost, Gaz, Konig, Watcher, and Soap all at the line as you unclipped the lead from Cerberus' collar and whispered, "Fuss." He was attached to your hip, looking up at you with his tail wagging behind him. You had to give it to the Dutchie, he was always up for some friendly competition. Especially when it came in the form of showing off his athletic abilities.

Ghost cleared his throat and took a look over everyone's head down the line on either side before saying, "On go. You go before I'll drag you back and have you doing push-ups till you pass out." He got quiet noises of agreement from the men around him, including one from you and a soft yip from Cerberus at your prompting. Another glance down the line before he said, "3, 2, 1," he paused to glare, assuring no one was making an early break, and then yelled, "Go!"

You took off, Cerberus bounding at your side along the clearly marked trail. Your thigh was already starting to burn, and fuck if that bandage wasn't chaffing the shit out of you. You would be aching all over by the end of this thing and you knew that for a fact. Ignore it. You had a task right now and you would be damned if you weren't about to clean up at this thing. Watcher and Konig were the first two to fall behind the speeding group, though to be fair neither seemed all that interested in the competition to begin with. Especially not when it came to running the course, the two two seemed more than happy just to watch everyone else duking it out. They were probably just in this for the PT at this point, the PT and the laughs.

Coming around the bend you hit the first obstacle, a crawl through the mud under rope netting you dove to your stomach. Cerberus was right behind you, you could feel him inching forward between your thighs as you both crawled through. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were on par with you, trudging through the silty dirt at your shoulder. The second you were out from under the netting you were back on your feet and running. Cerberus let out a few loud barks behind you before he caught up, sticking to you like glue as he always did. Though you had to admit he was pushing you faster than you were used to, it was like the Dutchie knew you were competing and was trying to get you moving faster.

None of you seemed willing to give in at this point, arms pumping as you all urged more speed into your already grueling pace. It was doubtful they were even considering the length of this course at this point, more focused on not letting you and Cerberus out of sight. They weren't considering that you'd been running at a dog's pace for nearly twenty years straight, even longer than that really. This pace was as close to a jog as Cerberus would let you run. Having to keep up with the most athletic animals in the world had made this easier than they could ever imagine though.

The tire flips were where you finally started to pull ahead. Despite the burn in your thigh and arm at every flip of the huge rubber obstacle you made it to the end first. Ghost was right behind you and the dog that was near howling at you like a drill sergeant to go faster. The big man was struggling though, he was fast but could he keep that pace up the whole run? Maybe if it weren't for the thirty other things you had to do in between all that.

Your stomach nearly dropped at the sight of the next obstacle ahead. A moment of doubt in Cerberus' abilities wormed into your mind as you hesitated. Two platforms about ten yards apart from one another with thin rope nets, the holes big enough Cerberus could get his leg stuck if he wasn't careful. The two platforms were about twenty feet up in the air, with a ladder on one side and a rope down the other. Ghost pulled ahead of you as you hesitated a bit, reaching the ladder before you and starting the climb up with ease. Damn you should have been the first one on that ladder. You had to get up there before Soap and Gaz got here or else you were gonna be out of this. Fuck it.

You were right below Ghost as you started the climb, glancing down to the pacing dog beneath you and saying, "Hopp." It took him a second as he worked it out in his mind, looking up at the both of you climbing and turning the command over in his mind. This wasn't the first time Cerberus had climbed a ladder though and you were certain it wouldn't be the last. You were a quarter of the way up as the Dutchie started up the rungs finally. Just as Soap and Gaz came around the bend in the trail and watched the climbing dog with surprise in their eyes.

A smirk found your mouth as you focused again, pulling yourself onto the platform behind Ghost who was already crossing over the net with ease. By the time he was dropping down using the rope on the other side you were hauling Cerberus up onto the platform with you. "Hier Cerberus, kriechen," you started over the netting as he crawled behind you, albeit slower without the addition of opposable thumbs to grip onto the rope with. And the added danger of his limbs falling through the ropes.

Ghost had disappeared around the next bend but you could make it up, you had time. God you hoped you did anyway. Gaz and Soap both made it over to the other platform before Cerberus could get across to you, but as the Scotsman was climbing down he finally got to your side. Barking excitedly at you before you issued a quick, "Bleib," watching him settle as he inched towards the side. You grabbed the rope and climbed over the side of the platform, sliding down quickly. Feeling the burn in your hands as you did.

The second your feet hit the ground you yelled up to the dog who was still peeking over the side down at you, "Hier," and the missile came off over the side in a second. He was insane, Cerberus would have literally trusted you with anything. You held his very life in your hands with every decision you made and command you issued to him. The second he hit your arms his body turned to liquid and you softened his landing on the dirt. Forearms braced underneath his torso and feeling the way his muscles jarred at the impact. Within the next rapid heartbeat the two of you were running again. Ignoring the now climbing Watcher and Konig in favor of catching up to the disappearing Soap and Gaz.

There was no time for pacing yourself, not anymore. It was an all out sprint right by the two Sergeants even as Soap seemed to kick on another gear as he tried to keep pace though eventually he fell behind again. It took you longer than you expected to catch back up with Ghost though. He was halfway across the poles by the time you made it there. His elbows bent and his feet just above the ground as he used his hands to walk over the twenty yard span. Your shoulder was aching just thinking about it, but your pride would be aching more if you didn't get on with it and let yourself fall behind again.

Fuck it. Hands bracing on the metal you pushed yourself up on bent elbows. "Good lord," you muttered, an amused laugh coming from the man in front of you at the quiet curses falling from you. Pain was lancing through your whole shoulder now as a grimace bloomed on your face. But you were right behind the Lieutenant now, Cerberus pacing the twenty yards beside you and very nearly taking off with Ghost before he remembered he was with you, not the big man.

The second you were at the end and your boots touched the ground you were leaving Soap behind on the bars with the other quickly approaching Sergeant. "Christ, how is he so bloody fast!?" You heard the frustrated comment behind you from the Scotsman. There was no time or breath to answer him, you could only smile as you rounded the bend chasing after the Lieutenant.

As you came up on Ghost you could hear his rapid breaths. He'd been pushing too hard for too long, letting you and Cerberus run him at your pace rather than the pace he was used to. You pulled ahead, gliding by him seemingly with ease, though the hitch you could feel forming in your thigh knew otherwise. It couldn’t be too much further now, just keep ignoring it and finish strong. With no one left to chase it was just you at the pace you were comfortable with. Thigh and arm burning with the shocks of pain, still not really recovered from the aches and injuries of the day before but never would you willingly admit that. Lose or win you would take it in stride.

God, how long have you been running now? Just as the thought crossed your mind you caught sight of Laswell and John, both standing with crossed arms just beyond your last obstacle. A fifteen foot vertical wall with two ropes attached to either side. Could your shoulder even handle that? It hadn't even been able to hold your weight with the help of a climbing harness before. Oh this was gonna suck ass so much.

We're not stopping now, you didn't just run this whole course to give up at a frickin wall. "Bleib," the Dutchie stopped dead in his tracks, tail waving behind him as he watched you run towards the wall. Your foot found the wall first as you ran up, fingers wrapping around one of the ropes as you started the grueling climb, barely even glancing over your shoulder when you heard a curse. Cerberus’ barks followed after him but you didn’t have time to look behind you.

Ghost was here then. Move faster, Speck, because this big bitch will scale this wall in no time at all if you don’t. You slung your good arm over the top of the wall as you hauled yourself up. Cresting the wall you finally glanced down, he was halfway up this side. A smile found your mouth and you saw his eyes narrow behind the mask before you grabbed hold of the rope on the other side and slid down with a loud, "Oh fuck me!" Pain stung up your leg as you picked your foot up for a moment, but you could whine about it later. "Cerberus, hopp," you yelled back at the dog still waiting for you on the other side of the wall.

The Dutchie broke out at a sprint, Ghost stopping his climb as he hooked his arm over the top and looked back. Even from this side of the wall you heard the quiet comment from the Brit, "No fuckin way." Oh hell yeah. One of the most athletic animals in the world and you were so proud of the fact Cerberus was about to be able to show off in front of all of them.

Soap didn't stop his run for the wall as he came around the bend but you could see him staring wide eyed at the dog with Gaz right beside him. The two paused as they both grabbed hold of a rope and looked up. Cerberus scaled the wall faster than any man or woman could have. Running up the side with pure power and determination. He slowed as he reached the top, Ghost watching him hook his front paws over right beside him. His hind legs scrambled at the wood for a moment and worry coursed through you that he wasn’t going to make it. Fifteen feet was more than he’d ever climbed before. Shit had you pushed him too far?

A quiet whine echoed down from the Dutchie before you saw a gloved hand wrap into his scruff on the other side and give him the boost he needed to perch on the top of the wall. Right before he shot his body off the top and over the other side like the rocket he was born to be. You could see his eyes searching for you, your arms lifting to cradle his belly as he slammed into your arms and you softened his landing. You couldn't break it completely but you could minimize his risk of injury. It didn’t stop your own body from hurting but that was secondary to the pain of the animal’s. Protect him first and you could handle yourself afterwards.

The last couple of feet were easily yours as you finally collapsed beside Laswell and John with Cerberus barking wildly beside you already wanting to run the course again. The Brit was looking down at you with a smirk and his hands in his pockets, while Laswell was watching with narrowed eyes. You lifted a finger and said between heaving breaths, "One for me,” you held up your other hand with a little wince before finishing, “One for you." John shook his head and glanced down at his phone as he pulled it out of his pocket.

There were a few seconds of silence before he leaned over to whisper something to Laswell and then said to you, "That's a new record Speck. Congratulations. You beat Ghost’s old record by half a second." You gave him a thumbs up before letting the tired arms fall back over your eyes. Trying to get your breathing back under control.

Listening to Ghost hit the ground a few feet away before he too joined you with his heaving breaths, taking a seat with Soap and Gaz in tow. Konig and Watcher showed up a minute later, dropping down on the other side of the wall not breathing nearly as heavy as the rest of you had been. John didn’t seem too happy about their seeming laxness though as he told them, "Keep slacking like that, you'll be running the course for the next week. Until you pass out. Pick up the pace next time you two."

Watcher and Konig both nodded as the ginger answered for them, "Of course Captain. Sorry," and a few silent minutes passed as everyone caught their breaths.

Laswell finally broke it though with a quick, "Speck won that round just in case anyone was wondering." You shot a pleased smile at everyone gathered in the group then, rubbing Cerberus between the ears with a few quick and quiet words of praise for him.

Soap rolled his eyes though, "Yeah Laswell. Figured that one out when I watched his dog fly off the top of the wall like he was about to elbow drop a fucker through a table." A low laugh escaped you at the thought. God you loved this dog, "Alright whatever, next up we're cleaning house. Let's go," the Scotsman pushed himself to his feet helping Gaz up next to him.

A groan nearly fell out of you at the thought of moving now. You'd put everything into winning that obstacle course without any regard to the challenges that would come after it. Now your shoulder was aching and your thigh was burning. A break was what you needed but the reprieve wasn't coming any time soon sadly. Instead a hand was thrust into your line of sight, the familiar calluses drawing your eyes up the long arm to his ocean hues. Taking hold of John’s hand he helped you to your feet, waiting as you clipped Cerberus' lead back on his collar before you both trailed after the rest of the squad.

His voice was quiet, meant only for you as he whispered, "I didn't think you would be able to beat Ghost honestly. That was impressive. He has held that record for a long time now," his eyes found you for a quick moment before he focused on the group ahead. The praise pulsed through every limb, invigorating your once tired body. Striking new life into your exhausted limbs, "You're looking a bit tired though, Speck. Does that mean you're not coming with me to my bunkhouse tonight?"

Oh fuck. Your abdomen tightened at the words he was using to hide his intended meaning. At the dirty thoughts now running rampant through your mind and completely unchecked. Pressure was building and you needed to stop it before anyone else caught sight. Looking up at the Brit you caught his smirk. That asshole, he knew full well what he was doing. Man was playing dirtier than a five dollar whore. And the worst part was you couldn’t stop the reaction he was getting out of you either.

Your mouth turned into a scowl as you muttered back to him, "Keep it up and I'll make you regret it tonight John. Quit trying to distract me." Speeding up you merged with the rest of the group, putting him at the back of your mind for the moment. You couldn't afford to be distracted by the thoughts of that beard between your legs or those eyes looking up at you. Fuck no, not right now. You had a bet to win. Then you could have the Captain for as long as you wanted, or as long as you could manage anyway.

The next building you entered, by the grace of God, was air conditioned. You and Cerberus both needed to cool down after that long ass run. Ghost didn’t bother to stick around for Soap’s little summary of this competition as he made his way up a set of stairs to a viewing platform overlooking the whole thing. He must have already known what the Scotsman had in store for you.

This time only two automatic weapons were awaiting you on the table and you gave a thought at how long it had taken Soap to set all of this up. It had to have taken a long time to get the obstacle course setup for y'all, and not to mention all the targets he had to set out for the sniper competition and all at five hundred yards. He’d certainly put a lot more thought into this than you had originally thought he was going to. The man seemed to live for competition. It also made you wonder what the hell else you were all supposed to be doing today.

The Scotsman turned to you then with a smile on his face and a cocky tilt to his head, “Just me and you this time, Cowboy.” It’d been a long time since anyone had the balls to call you that. He really was an endearing one you had to give it to him, “We clear each room till we hit the finish line. You have one pistol and one automatic weapon, two pistol magazines and two automatic magazines.” He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the other half of the table before continuing, “We have a Fennec for you since that’s what you were using when we found you but the ammo isn’t live.”

You nodded slowly as you moved towards the table, lifting the gun with your good hand to test the weight. “Alright, I’m following you so far,” you gave him a quick smile. At least you could still lift it comfortably without having to use your other arm too much. Especially after that damn obstacle course. God you were never going to get over that damn thing.

He cleared his throat to capture your attention again and your eyes found him quickly, “You hit a non-combatant you get a penalty. We both get one chance, that’s it. You can watch from up top because I’ll be going first. Get a feel for it,” Soap grabbed his pistol and M4 with you watching quietly for a few moments. The Scotsman added over his shoulder as he made his way to the starting line, “The situations will also be changing with each round. Sometimes there will be hostages, sometimes you will have potential bomb threats. Your approach to the situation will be judged just as much as your time, so keep that in mind.” He did a once over of his gear real quick and turned to look at you, making sure you understood the rules.

“Got it,” you answered him and threw him a quick thumbs up. “Break a leg Soap,” you said before looking around when a hand tapped you on the shoulder. Gaz nodded to the stairs that everyone else was heading up prompting you to follow after them. You looked down at the rooms with people milling about inside as you leaned against the railing, resting your leg while you had the chance. Hostages it seemed was the first scenario picked for the Sergeant. You looked down at Soap standing outside the door as he readied himself. The second the door flung open Price hit start on his stopwatch and the Sergreant’s time began.

The first room had three enemy combatants, and it only took three shots for Soap to count them out before he moved on to the next door with surprising rapidity. He didn’t even take a second to slow down as it too flung open, a man with a gun held to a hostage's head shouting at Soap in Arabic to back up. The Scotsman didn’t bother to attempt to negotiate though, he simply pulled the trigger and before the other man could even try to react he was being called out. Soap freed the hostage and frisked them quickly for weapons before directing them to remain out of sight and behind him.

The third room was an ambush zone, you could see it before Soap even opened the door. One wall was longer than the other and as he moved to clear the left side an enemy combatant rounded the corner on his right, grabbing the gun in his hand and forcing the barrel down to the floor. A hard kick to the stomach and a quick flip of the pistol out of its holster to double tap the man and he was continuing on though.

Damn this kid was fast. Not once had he slowed down and stopped moving yet and he was very nearly done. The next door swung open before he reached it and he put a splatter of paint on the man’s chest, shoving by him into the next room. Three hostages were tied on the ground and he worked to cut through their bindings quickly. With his back to one hostage you watched as the woman slowly turned and pulled a pistol from her waistband.

Before she even got the weapon all the way out though Soap had her arms trapped at his side underneath one of his own. His own pistol under her chin as he said, “Drop the gun.” When it clattered to the ground he released her hands and reached down for the weapon to shove it in his own waistband and out of reach. Still pointing the pistol at her he ordered her to the ground, securing the woman’s hands before directing all the hostages safely out of the training room with his own hostage at the head of the group like a body shield.

“Time!” Laswell said to your left and you watched John click the button to stop the timer on his phone. You glanced their way as he showed the phone to the woman and she gave a slow nod at the numbers. Soap was at the top of the stairs in a heartbeat with a smug look on his face, he knew he was good and he didn’t care who else knew it either. “Two minutes flat Soap, good run. No penalties either.”

The Scotsman gave a quick nod, “Nobody’s faster than me, Speck. That’s why I hold the record.” Huffs of amusement rose up and shaking heads were seen from around the group but no one had anything to say in terms of disagreement. Even if Gaz did look mildly annoyed at the arrogance on display. “You’re up next, good luck,” your eyes narrowed at him as you headed back down the stairs with Cerberus at your side.

Grabbing the gun in your left hand you tested the weight again, experimenting with the pain in your shoulder as you stretched it out. “Just like the apartment buddy, we can do this one, yeah?” You knelt beside the dog, running a hand over his head and muttering, “Time to work for real this time.” His eyes bore into yours, still panting from the heat outside and the run. “Gib laut,” he barked once but as you gave the command again several echoed throughout the indoor training area.

“Zurück,” you muttered watching him back pedal slowly towards the door, until you held up a palm to him. He froze, even the barking stopped as he watched expectantly for whatever he was supposed to be doing next. Your eyes shot up to Soap then as you asked, “Rules of engagement for the dog?” It seemed he hadn’t thought of that based on the look in his eyes. That was like half of your kit and he hadn’t even thought about it?

Finally the Scotsman said, “No biting anyone, not in this scenario anyway.” He turned to yell at someone on the other side of the training area, “Go get the bite sleeves, Wade!” When he turned back you looked back down to the dog and set your shoulder to the side of the door.

Just like any other training session, except now you had people watching and you were down an essential tool you were very used to. And why did this feel like more of an audition than a fuckin competition at this point? Oh well, make do with what you’ve got. Adapt to the situation at hand and blow them out of the water. “Fuss, Cerberus,” he moved to your side and you pushed open the first door.

The second you stepped inside the first room you spotted your first hostile. One shot and one down. A sweeping arc around the rest of the room but no one else was in there. “Voran,” you muttered and the dog ran a sweep of the room, searching as you made your way to the first door quickly. As you lined up on the door he regrouped on you and you pushed into the next room.

A splatter of paint hit the doorframe near your head as you moved into the room and you raised the rifle to splatter paint all over his glasses. He stepped back and your eyes flicked around the room catching sight of a man hiding behind a desk. You fired a shot at the last second into his chest watching the man step back into the corner. Checking the rest of the room a growl came from Cerberus, and in the next second you heard the door opening behind you into the next room. Swinging around you double tapped two shots into his chest.

Keeping your eye on the now open doorway you muttered, “Voran,” again, watching Cerberus move quickly into the next room with you right behind him. It was the ambush point, the room Soap had almost gotten shot in the first time. This time though the dog froze and you watched him sink to the ground. An explosives scenario then, lovely. You checked the first corner and then around the second as well before you looked down at Cerberus.

His eyes shot up to you and then to the last door before you whispered, “Bleib,” and left him laying down behind you. He couldn’t assist so no reason to put him further into danger right now. Don’t slow down, your time couldn’t afford for you to stop now. You pushed into the final room and very nearly took a fist to the face as you side stepped. Instead the fist smacked into your right shoulder, the limb going numb at first before pain ran through your fingertips.

“Oh fuck you!” The barrel of the Fennec slammed into his chest as you fired off three paint rounds into his chest. A foot slammed into his chest next as you kicked the guy back with a growl. Your arm was still dead but at least the room was empty now. Except for the decoy bomb in the middle of the final room staring back at you. A grimace painted your face as your arm curled into your stomach and you knelt beside it.

The timer ticked down from forty-five seconds and you glanced up to the group staring down at you. Your next decision depended on how many people would be affected if you left it. This was a role playing situation though, and you didn’t have enough information to make a decision to disarm or get the fuck out. So you asked them quickly, “Is this a heavily populated area?”

Surprisingly it was John who answered your question rather than Laswell or Soap, “Affirmative. It’s a school and the children haven’t been evacuated yet.” You nodded slowly as you continued to inspect the bomb, pulling a knife out of your pocket as your eyes wandered over what you could see. Another spasm of pain jolted down your shoulder as you shifted but you could ignore it, for a few more moments anyway. You traced the wires carefully from what would have been the actual bomb to the timer. Disarm the timer first and worry about the possibility of a remote detonation second.

Unless the timer has a backup detonator, fuckin hell. Thirty seconds, was that even enough time? Three wires, all of them going into the same port on the timer, so the likelihood of a secondary detonator on the bomb itself was unlikely. Safe to remove the timer from the equation then, hopefully. It’s been too long since you were in EOD training. Which wire to cut, you ran your finger up the length of each wire again, inspecting it for a few more moments before you finally shook your head, you could be wrong but you only made a real mistake once right? The muttered, “Fuck it,” fell out of your mouth before you severed the wire.

The timer went dead and you inspected the rest of the bomb. Remote detonation was still possible. Removing the face of the timer with the knife you stared down at it carefully. The wires connected only to the timer then. A smile lit up your face as you stood back up, still hugging your arm to your stomach, feeling the pins and needles in your fingers as the sensation came back. “Let’s go Cerb, fuss,” he was at your side in a second as you swept your way out of the rooms.

Crossing over the last doorway you heard a loud, “Time!” You laid the gun on the table and reached for your shoulder with a quiet grunt. The pain was finally working its way into the foreground of your thoughts, no longer content with being in the background. Slowly you made your way up the stairs, joining the rest of the group as you hid the grimace once more. “Two minutes and fifteen seconds but that was great situational awareness, Speck.” The woman paused as she seemed to think, considering the two runs carefully before she finally said, “Soap was faster though. I’m gonna have to give this round to him.”

You sighed and shook your head as the Scotsman pumped his fist, “Aye, ye hear that lads. Soap has done it again.” There were groans and mutters to tell him to shut up, but you stayed quiet. It drew the azure hues to you with a furrowed brow before the man seemed to realize you were still holding your shoulder, “We should take a break though. Pick it up tomorrow?” Thank God he’d suggested it because there was no way you were going to do so.

“Hell yeah,” you mumbled and leaned back against the railing for a moment. Soap stepped towards you, his brows raising and you shook your head, “Nah man I’m good. Just need a break. Besides it’s getting late, we’ve been at it all afternoon.” You let your hand fall away from the pulsing limb, heading back down the stairs. A shower and some food sounded heavenly right now.

The rest of the group were quick to follow out of the indoor training area. Everyone seemed to be done with the competition for the day, including Soap who called after you, “Come see me later for some fresh bandages. Ye need to keep changing them!” You gave him a thumbs up as you turned to find Laswell. You still had the whole clothes issue, to sort out before you were walking naked around this base.

The woman raised her brow at you questioningly before you spoke, “Hey Laswell right?” She gave you a quick nod before you continued, “Soap and Price said you could handle my clothes situation? And I figured I should ask you about getting Cerberus some more dog food? He’s nearly out and I doubt yall are gonna let me leave base to go get it myself.” She smiled at that but you didn’t know if that was her agreeing with the statement or not.

Finally she answered, “The clothes should be in your bunkhouse already. Fatigues and civilian clothes. I’ll get someone to handle the food this time, but Wade handles all the supplies for Bravo team so you’ll need to talk to him next time you need something.” You gave a quick nod as she departed with another smile, heading in the direction of the mess hall.

The rest of the squad seemed to have cleared out as well, all except for John who still had his hands shoved in his pockets and a smile on his face. And his eyes, God he had bluest damn eyes, they were glued to you. “You gotta stop doin that, John,” his head tilted questioningly as he stepped towards you. “The watching, the smiling, someone is gonna notice. Your team aren’t exactly idiots. They can be stupid, but they aren’t idiots.” He shrugged as he took another step closer, his eyes traveling down the length of your body.

The guys you’d been shooting at inside the training op filed out of the building behind you, and for the most part he ignored them. You did as well, they weren’t your problem right now. Until the door shut again and he glanced back to watch the group disappear around the building. As the last one rounded the corner his eyes snapped back to you and his fingers shot to your shirt, pulling you forward to press a hungry kiss to your mouth. It was shocking but certainly not unwanted, not even in a place so open as this.

He tasted better than any meal you’d ever had, the hand in your shirt not nearly enough contact to satisfy the growing need in your stomach. Just as fast as his mouth had covered yours, the hungry, devouring heat pulled away again. You watched his tongue reach out to wet his lips, that smirk finding his mouth again as he tasted you on his mouth. “What was that for?” You looked nearly taken aback by the suddenness of the kiss, finding yourself already aching for more.

His voice was dangerously quiet and you recognized the desire in his voice the second he spoke, “You’ve been walking around with my name on your arse all day, Love. I’ve barely been keeping myself at bay,” he started by you, a hand sliding down beside him to grab at the ass he had mentioned. His fingers were squeezing at your flesh with a promise for more. Damn. You hummed at that as you turned to follow him with your eyes and he kept walking. He glanced over his shoulder for only a moment before jerking his head in a quiet signal for you to follow him.

A smile spread over your mouth as you followed against the wiser wishes of your brain which knew you needed a break. The wrong head was thinking now and to be honest, if it kept having great ideas like this you might just let it. You dropped Cerberus off at your bunkhouse, filling his food and water bowl before you left. Before you even knocked on the door to John’s bunkhouse the door swung open and his fingers latched into your shirt again and pulled you inside before he slammed the door shut.

His mouth found yours again and his tongue teased at your lips, seeking to rediscover the passages he’d mapped out eight months ago. Your back found the door as he caged you in with his body, his form seeming to block out the only light source in the bunkhouse. You heard the lock turn behind you before his hand ran across your lower back, seeking something and you were pretty sure you knew what it was.

Oh yeah you definitely knew what it was. Slowly his fingers slipped lower and he dipped below the waistband of the pants to get a handful of your ass, kneading at the soft flesh. He hummed into your mouth, and you felt his mouth turn up with a satisfied smile. He’d finally found what he was searching for, “Love this arse.” His other hand reached around to join the other as he pulled your hips into his. Grinding his hard erection into your own hardening length through the thick fabric of both of your pants.

A moan fell out of your mouth at the friction, pressure building quickly below your belt and you were wanting more, needing more. His tongue dipped into your mouth, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he finally tasted your mouth. The man was near feral after keeping his hands to himself for so long, and God so were you. Yesterday in the showers hadn’t been nearly enough for either of you.

His lips pulled away from yours and he rolled your hips forward against his own again. Both of you savored the feel, wanting more but not willing to break apart just yet to get to one another. His nose pressed into your cheek a couple times until you finally looked up, eyes locking on his. “I want to see this arse bouncing on my cock, Love. Now.” Your head tipped back into the door as his mouth found your neck, sucking and kissing at the exposed skin greedily.

God he was intoxicating. You would have never let anyone else talk to you like he does, but everything he said, and it didn’t matter the situation or even what he was saying, it always went straight to your cock. And good Lord you wanted him inside you just as bad as he wanted to be there.

A hand reached up, leaving your skin to hook a finger into the neckline of your shirt. It drug down your heated flesh, exposing it to him slowly. And then his lips were sucking hard at the skin of your collarbone, teeth capturing it with a nip hard enough you knew he was going to leave a mark but you didn’t care as he drew out another low moan from you.

It didn’t occur to you that you were doing it until your hand was pushing him back. Gaining a moment of reprieve to get control of your thoughts and your body. That dark look was still in his eyes but he stayed put, watching you with a smug smile until you were turning the tables on him. There was no sense in trying to act like you didn’t want this just as bad, he was all you thought about most of the time. Your mouth was on his again in a moment, devouring every inch of him you could get ahold of. Tugging at his shirt to pull it out of the clean tuck he always walked around with. Always so meticulously dressed and groomed, and damn if you didn’t want to be his undoing.

His smile against your mouth drove you insane as he mirrored every movement you made. Pulling at your shirt with his rough fingers, dragging it up over the planes of your stomach until you were forced to break away. Neither of your shirts lasted another heartbeat as you flung yours to the floor with his following right behind it. Then without missing a step you were attached at the lips again, backing him up slowly to his bed in the corner of the room. Waiting until his knees buckled and he sat back on the bed, letting him watch the sway of your hips as you took a seat on his lap, straddling him as he tried his best to muffle a groan.

Strong hands grabbed at your waist, grinding the swell of your ass down onto his rock hard length barely contained in his pants. The noises he was making were driving you up the walls. He pulled away from your mouth again, taking a moment to catch his breath as his hips rocked up into yours, “I’ve been wanting you all day." His lips pressed into the skin just below your jaw, his beard scratching an itch you didn't even know you had. "I couldn’t even run that course cause you made me so hard when I saw you wearing my name on you like a tattoo. Bloody hell, Love, your arse looks so good in these,” his fingers ran over the bare skin of your waist, hovering just above the waistband of the pants.

Slowly his mouth kissed a trail down your neck and over your collarbone until he found what he was looking for. Teeth nipped at the sensitive bud before he sucked your nipple into his mouth. A gasp left you at the sensation, your chest pressing up to seek more of his mouth even as your hips ground down onto him. Listening with a satisfied smile as he moaned out against your flesh. Your hands were in his hair before you could even think about it, your own head tipping back to enjoy the attention he was paying you. God you just wanted him to fuck you already. You needed to cum and this had already gone on long enough. "God John your mouth is fuckin perfect," you felt his smile against your skin and his hum vibrated your chest before he pulled away, kissing his way to the other side.

His mouth went to work again, the sensations lighting your mind up with pleasure and building the pressure below your belt even more. It was too much, the ache was starting now and God you needed him. Needed something touching your length or at least that deep place inside you. Your hands fell from his head and you looked down, finding his blue eyes already watching you curiously. "Feels so good, but I need you. Want you to fuck me already," his eyes closed at the request. Mouth pulling away as he rolled your ass down against his erection again, feeling him twitch at the words even through the fabric.

Your fingers found his pants, working at the buttons quickly as he did the same for you. It wasn't until a loud knock came at the door that you saw his eyes dart up and his look darken with something akin to malice rather than the lust that had been there moments before. Watcher's voice pierced through the door at the worst moment it could have, "Captain! Laswell sent me are ye there?" His lip curled at the words even as the doorknob rattled, the Scotsman was trying to open it only to find that the deadbolt in fact was locked. "Captain? Are ye asleep in there or something? Dinnae make me walk to go get yer bunk key. Please Captain, just answer the door," the young man sounded near desperate.

Nearly as desperate as you sounded with your face burying in the crook of John’s neck to muffle your quiet groans as your hips rolled across his lap. Searching for something to ease the ache as his disruption did nothing to put a cork in your overflowing desire. Another knock as John sighed into your bare shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the skin as he rolled to lay you down on the bed. "I'm coming, hold on," he called back, pressing a kiss to your mouth and lowering his voice to mumble against your mouth, "Won't be long, Love. I'm sorry," he stood back up and you watched as he bent to grab his shirt and pull it back on. His fingers worked quickly to rebutton his pants even after you'd diligently worked to undo them.

God you were wearing too much, your skin felt feverish now even after he'd already moved away from you. Sitting up you worked quickly at the laces of your boots, glancing up only for a moment when John opened his door and the orange light of the setting sun outside filtered in. One hand on the door and his other on the doorframe you were suddenly very thankful that it opened in on the other side so you didn't have to worry about Watcher getting an eyeful of you currently stripping in his Captain's bunk. With your boots finally off you laid back on the bed again. Finishing undoing the rest of the buttons and fishing into your underwear with a quiet sigh of relief as your hand finally found the aching length as you worked slowly.

Your eyes flicked back to John, catching sight of his furrowed brow and tense jaw as he shook his head, "Now? Seriously?" A sound like a yes came from the man outside whose voice was considerably lowered now that he wasn't having to yell to get John's attention. "Fuckin hell Watcher, fine whatever. Tell her I'll be there in a minute," the door slammed shut and the deadbolt clicked again. Your eyes shut tight as you twisted your wrist, another sigh falling out of you at the feeling, and you rocked up into your own hand chasing your high. "Fuck you're a perfect sight, Love," your head tilted on the pillow, eyes opening lazily to find him as your abdomen flexed on a particularly pleasurable stroke.

The burning desire in his eyes was back now even as it was clouded with annoyance that you desperately wished wasn't there. "Need you, John, please," his hand reached down, cupping himself through the thick fabric in an attempt to soothe his own aching member. He took a step towards you, and a pulse of heat ran down to throb at the base of your cock. His hand was what you wanted, not your own. You could have your own any time, but right now? Right now you could have his and it was all your mind could think, chanting for him to touch you.

A sound edging on pain clawed up his throat as he tried desperately to adjust himself again. "I've gotta go for a few minutes," your hand stalled for a second before starting back up again. "Stay here, I'll be back." You nodded quickly as your hips left the bed, still thrusting into your own hand, "Fuckin hell I swear I'll be back. Just stay here, yeah?" He knelt beside the bed for a second, leaning over to press another kiss to your mouth even as you moaned. "Here," he fished into a bag and pulled out a bottle as he handed it to you. "You better not finish without me, you understand?" You forced yourself to nod to him again, eyes shutting for a second as you fought back your climax with a groan. When your eyes opened again he was giving you that smug little smirk before he backed up to the door. He left quietly after that, though you heard the lock click into place as he did. At least no one was gonna walk in on you…hopefully.

How were you supposed to keep yourself from finishing though? Did he just want you to edge yourself into overstimulation? Knowing him he probably did. "Please don't be gone for too long," you muttered, glancing down at the bottle he'd given you. Lube, that man was a frickin boy scout if there ever was one. He always came prepared no matter the situation. Popping the top you poured some over your length, smearing it up and down your shaft as you bucked into your now slickened hand again. The image of blue eyes danced in your head, as well as the body you knew he sported beneath his clothes.

Teeth drug across your bottom lip at the thought, a hum rumbling up your throat. That man was too sexy for his own damn good, and he had you wrapped around his finger. God you were playing right into his damn games. Laying here in his fuckin bed jerking yourself off right to the edge before you were pulling your hand away with shaky breaths. Not even able to control your head as it jerked and your eyes shut tight as you staved off your orgasm. "Mm fuck, please," you begged but he wasn't there to hear your pleas, wasn't there to see the need on your face as your climax danced out of reach again and you hungrily began the chase it once more.

------(John POV)------

Christ he was aching. He couldn't get his thoughts off the man he'd left in his bunk. The way every muscle he could see had tensed with need, your sweet little mouth begging to be fucked. Another pang of arousal shot down below the belt and he had to stop the groan in his throat. Nails digging into his palm as he was nearly running across the base at this point.

Watcher had said she was waiting for him in the office which thankfully meant no OP, so he shouldn't be away for too long. He threw the door open, eyes staring hard at her for a moment before she looked up and he shut the door behind him. If looks could kill his friend would have been dead before he'd even opened the door, "What's so urgent Kate?" His arms crossed over his chest, protecting himself from the hard gaze she was currently leveling right back at him.

Holding up a file she laid it on the other side of the desk. "The rest of his personnel file came in from the contractor he was working for. Do you want to read it all yourself or do you want the short version?" So that's what was so urgent? He had told her he wanted to know the second it came in. To be fair though that was before he'd pinned Speck to the wall in the showers and fucked his frustrations out yesterday.

John waved off the file she was trying to hand him with a shake of his head, "I'll read all of it tomorrow, I have something to do. Just give me the short version right now." She nodded and sat the file down in front of her. Leaning back in her chair as she thought quietly to herself.

It took her a moment before she finally figured out where to start and then she shrugged, "He was a SEAL. A good one according to his AARs. In the Navy for twenty years right out of high school. He was Bravo One for a long time and he ran a good team, one of the best. Remember about a couple years ago though, that team that got taken out in Afghanistan?" She waited for him as he thought, finally nodding when it sparked a hint of familiarity in him, "That was his team. He was the only one that got out. Lost his whole team, all eight of them, including his dog at the time. The Navy tried to railroad him. Tried to pin everything on him, all the fault. He was investigated, but the case was dismissed after it went to trial. They never had anything on him, they just wanted to make a show of it I think." Laswell paused to look up at him, watching his now guarded expression. "He retired from the Navy after that, got divorced, and he's been working for the same contracting company since. Nothing notable since that happened though, not until now anyway."

The man nodded slowly as he took the information in, tapping his finger against his bicep as he thought. "And what did they say about it? About why they tried to have him killed?" His head tilted at the question while he watched her.

She merely shook her head and offered him another shrug, "They said it wasn't them. That his handler has been off the books for nearly four months. And with Speck in deep cover the only one who knew how to contact him was his handler for safety purposes. They have no idea where the handler is or why they've been doing all of this. My guess is they probably bought them off." The Captain let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, still trying to sort through everything she'd already said. "I think he'd be a good investment though, John. I've read his AARs, he's good, and you've seen him in the field and in training. He knows what he's doing."

He shook his head, "Don't make any moves yet. Let me think about it. Now if that's all you needed I've got something to do," she gave him a slow shake of her head in response. He very nearly growled in frustration but managed to ask with a mostly neutral tone, "What else?" His brows raised when she slid the picture of the man they'd taken into custody across the desk to him.

Laswell watched as he picked it up, nodding slowly down at it before finding her eyes again, "I know who he is, but he is refusing to talk. Won't speak a word of English to me. We brought in a translator but that apparently isn't good enough for him, he wants the guy with the dog. He wants to talk to Speck." John's eyes found the far wall as his jaw tensed. What could the man possibly want with you? "Do you know where he went after Soap's little competition?" The brunette nodded his head slowly in affirmation and she said, "Great, I'll send someone to get him."

Blue eyes widened and he shook his head, "No, Kate. I'll go get him. I need to talk to him anyway," her eyes narrowed, inspecting him closely now with his untucked shirt and his pants riding just a bit too low on his hips. She was about to say something, make some kind of guess as to why his shirt was so wrinkled and covered in dirt even though he hadn't crawled through the obstacle course today. Fuck he'd picked up Speck’s shirt again, he had to stop doing that. "I'll be back, Kate," he huffed and was out the door in a moment. He needed to hurry and get back to you or he was gonna lose his mind.

------(Speck POV)-------

Moans fell out of your mouth as you fought back your climax for what had to be the hundredth time now. "Fuck John, hurry up," you groaned fingers digging into the sheets as your heart raced. Forcing your hand away from your throbbing cock, he'd been clear about you not finishing while he wasn't there and you had every intention of listening to him. What you wouldn't give to hear him right now with an answering groan though. To have his fingers caressing your skin, the rough pads of his fingertips catching along every scar. Just the thought was enough to have you fighting back your orgasm again as your lips fell open in a silent scream. "Please, fuck, need to cum. God John please," you were begging to no one though. He wasn't there to hear you, to release you from the promise you'd given him.

Not until the lock clicked and the door swung open. His eyes found you, barely keeping it together on the bed as relief flooded you at the sight. The throb in your cock was aching to be soothed. You needed to let go. He needed to get the fuck over here and he needed to do it now. The door shut behind him and he locked it again. You watched his hand grab at himself through the fabric again, working to soothe his own aches, watching your now naked body with a hungry look as you stroked yourself with a slow rhythm. "Please, I need you John," the quiet whine left your mouth and you could see him melting as you begged for him.

He was at the bed in a second, leaning over you still fully clothed as his mouth found yours. His hand ran down the tense muscles of your abdomen as he reached down to stroke you just once and you couldn't stop it this time. Sucking in a gasp of air your whole body tensed with the effort, back arching off the bed and heels pressing into the mattress as you bucked up into his hand mindlessly. The world around you ceased to exist even as your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him closer. You were fucking yourself into his hand with reckless abandon, the overwhelming pressure finally being released after you'd fought it back for what had felt like forever.

When you came back to yourself you realized you had buried your face into the crook of his neck at some point. Your moans were muffled only by the skin of his throat and his own quiet coos of encouragement while he worked you. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you hadn't even realized you were crying, relief flooding through you in a crashing wave after finally feeling your release. He was still stroking your cock slowly until you whimpered quietly into his skin and he pulled his hand away, letting you relax back into the mattress. The calluses ran up the length of your side and caught across your sensitive, burning skin to stoke the fire in your limbs without even meaning to.

Your own voice sounded foreign to your ears as you muttered a quiet, "Shit I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I tried not to, I really did," his fingers squeezed at your ribs as he pulled your body up against his despite the mess you'd made all over your stomach. A soft shh came from his mouth as his head shook, fingers running soothingly over your back. You felt him shift you so you were sitting on his lap once again. It was as if he'd never been gone to begin with. He ran his hands up and down your back slowly, his nails dragging over your skin and making you shift on his lap turning his quiet shushing into a low hum of satisfaction.

Pulling you out of where you'd buried your face he looked up at your flushed features with a smug smile. God that fucking smile, it did things to you that were truly unholy. "Feel better now, Love?" You shut your eyes and let your forehead fall forward against his, shaking your head slowly in answer. Sure you'd reached your peak, but it hadn't been how you wanted to reach it, with him buried inside you driving every thought from your mind and leaving only room to think about how good he felt. "No?" Your head shook again in another quiet answer as his nose bumped against yours, his words whispering across your cheek. "Good," he muttered as his mouth finally found yours again, his mustache tickling your upper lip and drawing out a smile against his mouth.

You couldn't stop yourself from grinding down against his still hardened length, his moan like music to your ears. He was just barely muffled by your own hungry and searching mouth. "You're sorry right?" He whispered against your mouth and you gave an affirmative hum as your mouth kissed a trail across his jaw and down to his neck. You could taste the sweat on his skin, had he run back here? Damn he was just as horny for you as you were for him. "Make it up to me then, Love," good Lord he was a vicious man. But how could you deny him when he asked in that needy voice.

Your hands pulled at his shirt quickly, bunching it up in your hands as you lifted it over his stomach and chest. Your mouth left his neck for barely a second as you helped him strip free of the confining fabric and muttered, "Your skin tastes like sweat. Did you run back here?" He nodded as your mouth worked over his collarbone, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin again. "Did anyone see you, John?" Your fingers worked slowly at the buttons of his pants even as he grinded your hips down on his lap again.

A low hum vibrated his chest before he growled out, "I don't fucking care if anyone saw me. Couldn't wait to be inside you, Love," his chin tilted down to rest on the back of your head as your mouth pressed into the dip between his pecs. Kissing at the patches of dark brunette hair along his chest. God his dick wasn't the only thing that was huge, huh? Each pectoral felt like a pillow underneath your lips as you nipped and sucked at the soft flesh, but when his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass you felt the muscles harden beneath your unwavering attention.

Finally you finished your slow progress at opening his pants, your fingers dipping inside to palm him through his underwear. His forehead fell further down to rest against your shoulder, eyes traveling down your naked front to watch your hand as you groped him through the fabric. Lighting every one of his nerve endings on fire with your relentless teasing. He huffed out in a quiet threat, "If you don't hurry up I'm gonna do this myself, Love." His beard scratched against your cheek as you pressed your face against his. You earned a gasp as you delved into his underwear finally. Lips pressed against your shoulder, his breath playing across your bare skin as he fought to control the noises escaping him.

"Oh fu-" his next gasp cut off mid sentence, teeth sinking into the muscle of your shoulder as he fought to muffle his moans. A pained growl left you but you didn't stop pumping his member, reveling in his quiet huffs for air. Your shoulder was on fire even when let go, whispering a quiet, "S-Sorry. Need you. Right now I n-need you."

Nodding you squeezed the base of his cock, driving back the orgasm you knew was building, edging him just like you'd edged yourself until he’d come back. He sighed against your skin before you muttered, "Lay back." His head lifted, hands coming up to cup your face as he watched you curiously for a moment. You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before tilting your mouth to whisper against his ear, "Please lay back.” A quick nod followed your request and he laid back on the bed, that burning gaze staring up at you as he propped his head up with one arm. His other hand rested on your thigh, his thumb stroking your thigh in slow, little circles.

Interest sparked in his eyes as you slid back along his thighs, pulling at the waistband of his pants until you couldn't pull them down anymore. Starting to slide off his lap completely he stopped you with a strong grip on your hip, shaking his head slowly. Without even needing to ask his hips lifted off the bed, and you couldn't help but admire the way his muscles tensed below his skin. You were lost to the sight until he cleared his throat beneath you and you hurriedly pulled the pants and underwear down to free his cock.

Reaching across the bed towards the pillow you grabbed the bottle of lube he'd given you earlier. Squeezing some out on his length as he hissed at the cold. And then your hand was around him again, warming the slick liquid and spreading it over his length. His lips parted, his breath quickening as your hand worked him. The man couldn't stop his needy moan. Neither could you when your own length came into contact with his, and you could feel the throb of his pulse against your own skin. Your hand wrapped around the both of you, pumping a few times before you asked, "Still want to watch my ass bouncing on your cock?"

The noise he made was near enough to send you over the edge again as his fingers tightened around your hip, "Fuck yes. Want you to ride me till you're screaming my name," your wrist twisted at the tip, thumb sliding over the head of his cock. His head tipped back and his eyes shut tight as he fought to keep himself still underneath you. Groaning out his impatience when your hand released him again.

You turned around in his lap, sliding backward along his length as his leaking erection glided between your cheeks. His hand slid up along your back before you glanced over your shoulder at his face. Those blue eyes were captivating, especially when he glanced up at you with his teeth dragging over his bottom lip humming quietly in satisfaction to himself. Lifting up you saw his other hand reach down, his cock slapping against your ass until he pressed himself at your entrance. He obviously felt how slick your hole was because in the next second he asked, "Bloody hell, did you prep yourself while I was gone too?" A slow nod had him slamming inside you, too pent up to hold himself back any longer. "Oh my- Feel so fucking good, Love."

Your muscles tightened and spasmed around him, a strangled gasp in your throat at the sudden fullness. God you hadn't expected that. He burned your walls as he tried to move but your hands on his hips stopped him. Short, quick breaths were all you could manage for a second as his hands rocked your hips forward and back slowly, needing to feel some kind of friction. Why did he always feel so big? He'd just been inside you yesterday too, he shouldn't feel like there was this much of him. Should he?

Moving your hands from his hips to his thighs your chin fell forward, finally catching your breath and loosening around him. You lifted off him slowly about halfway before the hands at your waist were pulling you back down with a vicious slam. He pressed against every wall, every corner of you driving you near madness at the sensation. “‘M feel so big Price,” you moaned loudly, lifting off again and bouncing back down.

You set a steady rhythm, letting his hands wander over the expanse of your skin. The pad of his index finger ran across the bullet scar at your hip as you rode him. The memory of when you’d told him the story of that one flashing in your mind. He’d asked so many questions that night, and not all that you’d been willing to answer. “Call me that again,” he breathed out and you smiled as you slammed back down, rolling your hips back and forth. Grinding on him and running his length over the bundle of nerves that had you gasping out in pleasure again.

You glanced over your shoulder again at him, head tilting in question with a smirk on your mouth, “What? Big?” He groaned and you watched his eyes flick up from where he’d been watching himself disappearing inside of you. His gaze turned into a glare letting you know that was not what he had meant. “Price then? The name I walked around with on my ass all day? That name?” His eyes shut and his head fell back, hips thrusting up off the mattress reaching somehow impossibly deeper inside of you.

Resuming your steady rhythm your teeth grazed over your bottom lip. He liked being talked to, and that worked both when he was in control and even when he wasn’t it seemed. “Give me another pair and I’ll wear your name all week,” his fingers squeezed hard at your flesh, spreading your cheeks with his hands. You caught sight of him nodding along to your words where he was laying. “I don’t think I could wear it on missions though. You seem a bit distracted by it. Can’t have your thoughts back here in the bunkhouse when you’re supposed to be keeping me alive.”

It didn’t take long for the image to dance behind his eyelids of you running a real mission with them, his name still stitched into the pocket on your pants. He sat up as he jerked your hips flush with his. His mouth right beside your ear when he growled, “I don’t need you to wear my name. I’ll make sure everyone knows this arse is mine one way or another.” His beard scratched against your shoulder as he flipped you over, bending you over the edge of the bed and pressing your face down into the mattress. One hand still holding your hips as the other tangled into your hair.

Oh, he was gonna be the death of you. There was no doubt that his face would be the last you saw because you were certain you could never let him out of your sight again. He impaled you relentlessly, bruising your insides with the force. The pressure that had been building at the base of your cock was becoming unbearable. You needed to find your release and you needed to find it now.

The same thought seemed to be crossing his mind as well, as the hand holding your hip slid around to your front. He stroked your length in time with his thrusts, angling his hips down to hit the place that had your abdomen tightening at the shock of pleasure. “You close?” You nodded vigorously into the mattress, turning your head to look up at him as best you could with his hand still tangled into your hair. “Gonna cum for me Love? Let me finish inside you again?” Another quick nod but the look he gave you made it clear he wasn’t satisfied by a mere nod this time around.

“Please fill me up, Price,” the words slipped out of your mouth before you could even really think about them. “I wanna be leaking with you when I leave here,” he smiled and it didn’t take but a few more thrusts before you felt him spilling inside you with a moan. His body fell over your back as he kept rocking into you, drawing out the shocks of his own orgasm as he pushed you ever closer to your own. His hand was still tight around your own erection as he stroked your length. A twist of his wrist at the head of your cock though and you were spilling across his fist and sheets.

The second orgasm was just as strong as the first, your toes curling and back arching underneath the heavy weight on top of you. Both of your chests were heaving with effort as he slowly pulled out. You could feel his seed dripping out of you, already leaking down the back of your thighs with how much he’d spilled. He pushed himself up with one hand, the other landing a firm smack on your cheek causing you to flinch before you smiled. “Love, this arse is perfect,” you glanced up catching him in the act of watching the muscle jiggle after he’d slapped it with a smug smile on his face.

Climbing up onto the bed you laid yourself out, relaxing across the sheets as you watched him pulling his pants back up and fastening them with deft fingers. You watched him lean down to grab the two shirts on the ground, looking between the two before he finally pulled one over his head. Then he was grabbing your clothes off the floor, folding them quickly to lay them on the bedside table. Looking down at you, still naked on his bed, his head tilted and while his mouth no longer had that smile you could see it in the corners of his eyes as they crinkled, “Feel better now?”

A yawn escaped you before you managed to nod, “I feel great now. Can’t say I’ll feel the same in the morning but for right now yeah I feel good.” He smirked and sat beside you, his hand running along the expanse of your shoulders. His fingers massaged into the muscles, running over the place he’d bitten you earlier. Soothing the sting as he leaned over to press his lips to the spot with a smile. Then both his hands were working at the aches from the past few days, his strong hands digging in with barely any effort on his part.

You let out a groan at the tension being released and a small smile turned up the corners of your mouth. “Good to hear, Speck,” he seemed to hesitate then. You caught the look in his eye but you failed to find the reasoning behind it. Not until he cleared his throat and finally said, “I need you to get dressed though. Laswell needs your help. Well I need your help.” Your eyes closed, a sigh nearly escaping you. Should have known better than to get comfortable, right?

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soaps-hoe-141 · 3 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Yall wanted it, so here ya go. Fulfilling my poll duties

Part 4

Pairing: Price x Male!Reader

WC: 20.7k

Synopsis: Interrogation done. Time to meet the team, make him jealous, be a thot, be an idiot, refuse to elaborate, leave, take your punishment like a man

Warnings: NSFW 18+, I promise it's there, it's just at the end. Daddy Price taking what's his down there

"Here," the young Brit held out your duffel bag to you. Taking it you give him a questioning look wondering where he'd even gotten it which prompted him to glance at Soap and Ghost over by a table. "They grabbed it from your apartment," you shot a look at the two, watching as Ghost grabbed the barrel from the disassembled sniper rifle out of the other man's hand with a shake of his head. Soap in turn just grabbed another piece of the gun until Ghost finally redirected his attention to something on the screen before rearranging the pieces how he wanted them.

It was humorous to watch the two as you changed into a t-shirt and a pair of thicker pants this time. They seemed so far from similar but in a way that drew them together endearingly. Ghost distracted him so easily with something else to avoid the Scotsman tearing apart the careful puzzle of the gun he had disassembled earlier. He made sure to turn around and arrange it just perfectly where it went according to his obsessive mind. Even doing it quick enough that when the Scotsman turned back to say something else Ghost was already right behind him, nodding along as if he’d been there the whole time.

Returning your attention to Gaz you threw the bag under the desk still occupied by Cerberus who was watching Gaz cautiously while you changed. Well to be specific they were both staring at one another with the skepticism of well known rivals. The two seemed overtly distrustful of one another in a way that made even you uncomfortable. It was a bad precedent to set, bad blood couldn't be allowed to fester otherwise it might make Cerberus more inclined to be distrustful of even more strangers in the future. Certainly not something you were about to let happen. Especially if you were strapping with their team over the border into a more than dangerous area that could explode at any moment.

Before Gaz could make a run for it, from Cerberus, you cleared your throat and drew his eyes to you instead of the dog, "I'm sorry he went after you." True or not it didn't matter, you were still kind of annoyed that he hit you over the head but at the same time Cerberus had gotten your share. The past was the past, live in your three foot world and control what you could right now. And right now you could control their relationship moving forward, "If it's alright with you I'd like to get him a little more acquainted with the team, starting with you. If he's not having to decide whether your scent is friendly or not he won't be distracted, could keep us from getting blown sky high."

The Brit pursed his lips and took half a step back not quite sure he wanted to be a part of this, which you had to be honest was fair enough. You could see the look in his eyes, he was about to refuse and before he could outright say no you felt a warm presence at your back. The voice that made you tense sounded right beside your ear as he said, "I'll go first then, Speck." John came around your side, a hand sliding across the small of your back and nearly drawing out a plea for more from you before his sharp look froze your mouth and vocal cords. He was standing between you and Gaz now, blocking the other man's sight of your flustered look.

A quick swallow had you glancing between Cerberus and John trying to reign in the thoughts that were running wild in your mind. He was officially getting to you, and you'd been able to deny it until the moment that he put that large, warm hand in a place he never should have. God you were losing yourself to the possibility, the desire for more. If it weren't for the men in this room and that fact you'd just gotten yourself stitched up you'd shove him onto the nearest desk and be done with all these pent up frustrations. But you couldn't, please God give you the strength not to tear him apart. A damn tease is what he was being now, and one with the ability to back it up. Please back it up.

No, damnit you are a professional with the ability to focus and not some horny fifteen year old who's about to lose his virginity. Chill the fuck out and answer with words not a damn look, "Uh yeah, that's fine. Perfect actually." Your eyes shot down at the dog before you finally managed to remember the command, "Achtung." The intense chocolate gaze shot to you immediately, alert and ready for whatever you had to say next. You turned your gaze back to the Captain and held out your hand, "Alright lemme see your hand then." Another near refusal, hesitation obvious in his eyes. He'd been completely ok with the idea of touching the dog, but the act of touching you when he wasn't the instigator was a completely different story. "Come on, Cap I ain't got all day. You wanted to go first so let's go," Gaz beside him was smirking now and when you all noticed Soap and Ghost's quietness the man sighed and dropped his palm onto yours.

His face began to redden as you flipped his hand over with a smirk, facing his palm up to the ceiling. If he was so worried about embarrassing himself should have just asked instead of assuming. You were finally getting your payback for when he had Ghost search your pockets instead of him. And you had every intention of this being only the beginning. Guiding his hand closer to Cerberus's nose you turned your attention to the dog and said, "Duft." The Dutchie pushed his wet nose into the man's palm taking quick, short breaths. You let your own hand drop away from Price's then, watching Cerberus lick at the callused palm as he familiarized himself with the new scent. The new friend you were providing him with.

Cerberus lifted his head a bit and then laid his jaw onto John's palm, looking up at the tall brunette with eyes that could melt glacial ice. You leaned up to the Brit's ear and whispered low, breath sliding across the shell of his ear, "Tell him 'Pfote'." Blue hues flicked to you, catching a heat there different from the anger you'd been subjected to since you'd first seen him again. Oh yeah, there was that look you were trying to find. The beginning of his undoing if you played your cards right. Two could play at this game of teasing John, your move Brit.

John didn't give anyone else the time to see his momentary weakness though before he turned those blue depths down to Cerberus and said gruffly, "Pfote." Cerberus pushed himself up to sit in front of the tall man before he lifted a paw and dropped into Price's palm.

You smiled at the dog before running your hand over his head and muttering a quick, "Braver Hund!" That had his tail sweeping over the desk with such rapidity you were sure he was about to cause a tornado with it. When you turned your gaze back around John was halfway across the room with his back to you as he looked down at something he'd been fiddling with earlier. For all intents and purposes he was removed from your reach once again, and this time at his own discretion rather than yours.

There was a part of you that longed to have told that piece of shit on the phone to go to hell eight months ago. Maybe if you'd stuck around, if you hadn't been forced to go flying halfway across the world you might have been able to find some happiness there. That would have been nice, that's for sure. Even if you'd lost your job, your livelihood, part of you felt like he might have been worth it. That those heated looks, his ability to always know exactly what to say, and the outstanding way he knew how to use every bit of you, all of that might have just been worth it.

Your gaze turned back to the dog, not wanting to let yourself linger too much for fear the others would see if they hadn't already. A shy voice in front of you that you hadn't heard yet caught your attention, "Hallo." Shock took hold of you as your eyes ran up the hooded man in front of you. Good God where did they get this one from!? "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" His question was lost on you for the most part, and not only because you were so taken aback by the giant's sudden appearance.

There were many languages you were fluent in and had basic knowledge of, but most Latin based languages were lost on you save for Spanish. Just as most Germanic languages fell into that same category, all except for your native English tongue. You'd only realized your proficiency with languages when learning Spanish in high school as is required. The Navy had only provided you with the resources and necessity to further that knowledge and proficiency.

Uncomfortable silence had the tall man taking a step back slowly, slipping back into the shadows of the unlit sections of the room like he was about to bolt. How hadn't you noticed him before now? The shadows didn't really hide him that well and you were certain you hadn't been that distracted by John. Especially not to have noticed the young, ginger man behind the taller one as well. "Sorry I don't know what you said, do ya speak English?"

Even under the hood you could see that big head tilt and you worried for a moment you'd already made a faux-pas without even realizing it. Being social was so difficult when you usually only had to worry about your tone of voice rather than the words you were saying. Cerberus typically couldn't give two shits about what exactly was coming out of your mouth so long as you didn't sound upset. The small ginger man behind the tall one finally alleviated your worry with an easy smile and a quick, "He does yeah. He was just wondering if ye spoke German." You caught a comforting touch from the smaller man that was so subtle you nearly missed it, but it was there.

Huh, another Scot. So the tally now was three Brits, two Scots, and a German. You eyed the rest of the building carefully again, or what you could see of it anyway from your spot in this one room. No one else, so you weren't missing these men, you weren't that cenile yet. They were, in fact, just coming out of the walls then like carpenter bees drilling through the wood of your shed. Good to know. "I'm Watcher, by the way. I handle all the tech stuff, and I love yer dog. He's a beauty," the ginger stepped closer, but stopped with an unsure look towards you as if waiting for your permission to meet Cerberus. Probably a good idea if you were being honest.

The little Scotsman spoke so easily to you, it was kind of laughable how nonchalant he was about both you and the dog. Especially compared to everyone else's reaction. Then again you hadn't tried to shoot, scare, maim, or sleep with either of these two new guys so that might have helped the ease with which they approached you. When you held out a hand the young man readily put his into yours, excitement lighting up his face at the idea of finally getting to meet the dog. "Cerberus," chocolate hues focused on you before you issued the command just like before, "Duft." His nose inched closer sniffing until he was pressing into Watcher's palm and licking at his lithe fingers.

The young man was positively giddy at the sight, "Can I pet him? Christ," his r seemed to roll on forever, "Please tell me I can pet him." You gave a quick nod in answer watching the young man's other hand slide immediately over the Dutchie's big, black head. Scratching behind his ears, down his neck, and into the thick fur between his shoulder blades. When Cerberus' nose tilted up from the young man's hand and you watched the long, pink tongue dive out for Watcher's chin you half expected him to retreat from him. Instead he merely lifted his face a bit before shaking his head and whispering, "Nein." Then he placed a quick kiss on his forehead and forced himself back, "Your turn Koni." The bright blue eyes shifted up to the hooded man who had been watching the interaction the whole time.

"Koni?" You asked before you could stop yourself, if only you could just keep your mouth shut, that’d be nice. That was an unusual call sign but maybe it meant something in German that you didn't know.

The large hood shook back and forth in answer to you before he said, "No actually. You can call me Konig." He didn't elaborate any further on the name situation though. It was a bit long to be a call sign, in your experience one syllable words were about all a tier one operator had time to mutter in the heat of things. But, staring up at the tall man, you decided it wasn't worth the trouble you'd make asking and instead just nodded, Konig it was then.

Holding your hand out he laid his on top of it, repeating the same process you had with both Price and Watcher now. Cerberus took his time before laying his head in the catcher's mitt that was Konig's hand. It made even the Dutch Shepherd's huge head look small which was a feat. Konig gave the dog a few quick scratches on the head before turning your way and asking, "If you don't speak German then why is your dog trained in it?" Well that made you stop and think.

Lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to come up with an answer. You’d never really thought about it before honestly. It was how you’d been taught and so that's how you did things. Finally, rather than spread some kind of false information to the young man, or you guessed young man since you couldn’t see his face, you simply shrugged. "Honestly I've got no idea. It's just what the Navy taught me so it's what I use. I mean I guess I could use any language really but I'm so used to it now I've never really thought about changing it."

You hadn't even realized what you'd said until John's voice jumped the gap between you with a quick, "You were in the Navy?" Turning so quickly you felt a crick in your neck that had been there for weeks pop and you locked eyes with him, his brunette brows furrowing at you before you gave a hesitant nod of affirmation. He merely huffed at the information before sitting down at his desk and going back to looking at whatever it was he'd been doing a few seconds before.

Had he been doing something though? He noticed the discrepancy between your first meeting and now in a heartbeat, barely even a pause after you stopped talking, he'd voiced his question. So John was listening then, probably watching too when no one else was paying him any attention. You could really make his head spin then if you wanted, a touch here and a whispered word there and he'd be coming unglued from that chair of his. He'd wanted to be a tease up until now so let's be a tease Captain John Price. Glancing at the last three you questioned them all with a quick, "So who's next then?"

They all turned even stares at one another then before Soap finally spoke up, "Well I guess since," there was a slight pause. A hesitation that had the other two narrowing their eyes in silent threats before the Scotsman finally finished, "Since Gaz is already over there ye might as well just have him do it first."

"Agreed," the only other Brit left besides Gaz answered in his thick accent, without so much as a second thought. When you turned to find Gaz though he was giving them both an open mouthed look of betrayal. He’d been handed over, quite literally, to the dogs by his so called friends it would seem.

Oh how fast they turn on one another. The dark skinned man's look of betrayal quickly turned into a flat even stare that just seemed more like he was over it. "You can both go to hell," he shot across the room at the both of them, only for Soap to smirk and shrug and Ghost to remain as emotionally unreadable as he always was with the mask on. He turned to you, "Right let's go then, mate."

When his eyes fixed on you your face took on a disarming smile. Trying your best to soothe his obvious nerves at getting so close to the animal that had already used his arm like a chew toy. "He's not a mean dog Gaz, I swear," the dark hues flicked to the dog with a shake of his head before you held out your hand watching him set the back of his hand in your palm like all the others had so far. His arm was as stiff as a board though, elbow locked like he'd start shaking if he didn’t stay stiff.

Squeezing his hand a bit you caught the quick look that he settled on your face before returning it with a relaxed upturn of your mouth. "You're too tense, man. Gotta loosen up. He reads body language, he knows how you feel." Gaz watched the dog for a few seconds, head tilting as if he was really considering what you were saying. He didn't seem to truly understand though as his focus settled back on you with his hand in yours. The length of your arm was pressed against his and you'd moved your other hand to his opposite shoulder, coming near flush with his back now as you edged him closer to the animal.

His nervous energy was like electricity in your veins after being pent up with frustration for so long now. He glanced at you over his shoulder and caught sight of the relaxed gaze before you whispered, "Someone comes at you, nearly quakin in their boots, with the hand that smacked your daddy across the face looking like they got a metal rod so far up their ass that it has gone through their elbow what are you gonna do? Let them get near enough to touch you? No. That'd freak you out too. That'd look weird and not at all how someone should come up to ya, and that's what he's thinking. Just take a deep breath, relax alright? I swear to you, he's not gonna hurt you. He’s a good boy." You could see the heat flaring on his cheeks as he settled himself against you, or tried to at least.

Surprisingly he seemed to get it this time though as he melted into you, his arm going liquid against yours as you pushed him forward with your other hand until you were both within reach of Cerberus's nose. "Duft," Cerberus looked where you were still holding Gaz's outstretched palm before reaching forward with his wet, sniffing nose. It took him longer than the others had as Cerberus reorganized the scents in his mind. When the tongue finally licked at his fingers Gaz lit up with a smile, stepping a bit closer and away from you. "See, I told ya. It's all about body language," you pulled your hand away from Gaz's, letting Cerberus and him get better acquainted without your scent muddying the waters.

Eyes glanced sideways where you knew John was, catching the dark gleam in his eyes that was focused solely on you. Warning bells played in your head, you were toeing a dangerous line, but it was a line you were more than willing to cross when it came down to it. When Gaz had finally had his fill of petting the dog you looked over where Ghost and Soap were supposed to be sitting. Only the Scotsman remained though, eyes glued to you and the dog and seeming to not realize that he was left alone. "Looks like you're up then Soap."

The dark brow cocked up in question before he whipped his head to the side, staring at the empty space beside him. "Where'd that blaigeard go?" Blue eyes darted around the room searching for the man with the skull mask and coming up empty. His quarry had long gone by now it seemed. A sigh left Soap as he stood up and came around the desk he'd been sitting at to stand just in front of you.

Soap looked between you and the dog, momentarily finding Gaz as well who had retreated to some things piled in the corner, probably his gear, before a smirk found that naturally suggestive face. "Can I get the special treatment then Speck? It worked so well for ole’ Gaz. I quite like up close and personal if ye know what I mean."

Eyeing him for a second your eyes slid up and down his lean form before you shrugged. "You gotta ask nicer than that, Soap. Where are your manners?" His tongue slid across his bottom lip and he stepped a bit closer.

His voice deepened and his tone slipped into something a bit more casual as he answered with a whispered, "Please may I get the special treatment, Speck?" In truth you hadn't expected it, you really should have. He was obviously the type to try and get under your skin but it still took you off guard. Your eyebrows rose at the Scotsman before a smirk graced your features and you shook your head fighting off amusement.

"Come on then, I'm sure we've got to get going soon." The Scotsman let out a light chuckle and held out his hand for you to grab. Cerberus, now expecting the command, was already leaning forward on the desk. He was eager to learn the new scents of the team he was to be working with now. He'd never had the opportunity really before except for rare occasions, it'd only ever really been the two of you with the occasional tag along that you never bothered to have him learn. You'd very nearly foregone it with these men too, until you'd noticed the tensions between Cerberus and Gaz anyway.

You stepped up behind Soap, holding his wrist rather than his hand as you gave the command and the curious nose pressed into his palm. A low whisper slid over Soap's shoulder as you muttered, "That's it, just like that. Damn good job right there Soap," he pressed back into you and rather than keep it going you pulled away from the man, listening to his little laugh when he received your praise. You took a step back as you watched them both. When your eyes turned up though you saw John had his back to you now and the only other man brave enough, or maybe angry enough was a better descriptor, to keep watching was the now present Ghost. Well fuck, you hadn't realized that when you first decided to put your hands on the Scotsman. Oh well, fix it later. What's done is most assuredly done.

With Soap introduced the only one left was the man currently glaring daggers at you. You bit at your bottom lip nervously before deciding rather than making him come to you and Cerberus maybe it'd be better to go to him. "Hier, Cerberus, fuss," you said watching the dog jump down from the desk before attaching himself to your thigh as if he had his own holster. You passed Watcher who was typing away at something next to Konig while the tall man loaded mags for the both of them as they whispered back and forth. Soap had wandered over to where Gaz and Price were now discussing something you couldn't hear from this far away. But from the map and the pictures they were huddled around they were coming up with some kind of way to get all of you over the border and back in one piece.

Ghost had started reassembling the sniper rifle by the time you made it through the maze of desks, tables, and chairs over to him. He barely even glanced away from the scope he was looking through, using a cloth on the glass to clean it as he actively ignored your approach. "You're the last one Ghost," hazel eyes gave you a look that you could have sworn seemed like his brow was cocked under the mask with a sarcastic reply just dancing on the end of his tongue. "I'll make it quick," a tilt of the head, "I promise." Ghost sat the scope down gently on the towel he’d laid all the pieces out on.

It was an uncomfortable silence with his burning gaze staring a hole through you. His arms crossed over his chest as he watched you before asking, "You like the gloves on or off?" Your mind went blank for a moment, thoughts going off on a tangent about the innuendo hidden there. Honestly you weren't sure if he'd meant for it to sound the way you heard it or not but your frustrated brain didn't seem to care too much about whether he did or not.

Blinking a couple times you finally got your thoughts back under control before answering him with a simple shrug, "Whichever you prefer is fine." He stood stock still, taking you in before something finally clicked for you and you glanced down at Cerberus before saying, "Voraus." The big dog ducked beneath the table separating you two and the second his head popped up over the other side you said, "Anhalten," and the dog froze in place, less than a foot to Ghost’s right and looking back at you silently waiting. You shot a look up at Ghost and nodded towards his still crossed arms, "Hold your hand out then." The man glanced down at the dog before lowering his crossed arms and letting chocolate eyes catch sight of the outstretched palm.

Cerberus didn't dare to move though, staring at the hand quietly and awaiting your quick, "Duft," before he surged towards the hand, sniffing and licking nearly immediately. It seemed the Dutchie rather liked Ghost’s scent, or at least the way his glove smelled. If he never took it off, the damn thing probably still tasted like whatever he'd eaten last, with too many smells for Cerberus to categorize completely. The other large hand came up and ran across the top of his head, ruffling the fur and tracing the pointed ears. He was surprisingly gentle for having seemed so menacing from afar, that was good to know. At least you didn't have to worry about the man glaring at your back through a sniper scope, at least not while Cerberus was with you anyway.

When Cerberus had gotten his fill of the big man he turned a circle, looking for something before catching sight of you once more and crawling back under the table to press his nose into your hand. Ghost was more than willing it seemed to ignore you once more, which was fair you didn't exactly know anything about one another. And it wasn't like you'd come to the team in the best of circumstances, hell you weren't even a part of the team. You were a strap, just someone they had to bring along for translations and to get a hold of a family you'd left with someone who'd only talk to you.

Heading back to the desk that had temporarily been claimed by both you and Cerberus you sat down in the chair. Tapping the top of the desk you muttered, "Hopp," watching him jump easily up to the desk before whispering, "Platz," in the quietest tone you could manage. Cerberus didn't even hesitate to lay down on the desk again. His hearing wasn't damaged then, after the explosions and the flashbang you were worried they might very well have been but he seemed much better off than you'd been left. "Geh Schlafen, Cerberus," you leaned your own head back, turning for just a minute to catch sight of the chocolate eyes disappearing behind heavy lids as you both slipped into a light slumber.

"Price do we really haftae walk the whole way there from the border? I mean that's a long bloody way and I’m sure we could make it if we had some ATVs," Soap huffed out behind you. He'd been talking more or less the whole time you'd been on the road. For the most part you'd been able to stay asleep with Cerberus curled up between your legs in the middle row of the van’s seats, squeezed inside between Konig and Watcher. John and Ghost were sitting in the front, ignoring just about everything Soap said from his place in the back with Gaz…just about.

The brunette huffed and shook his head, "For the last time Sergeant, yes we've got to walk. Speck said cars are few and far between, and those that do come through are almost always hostiles. ATVs are too conspicuous, we went over all of this back at ops. You've walked farther before so keep the chatter to a minimum, alright?" There was a heavy sigh behind you but Soap didn't shoot back a reply thankfully.

You'd been resting your overworked mind off and on since you got in the car with them. Every bit of your body ached, you had barely slept save for what you'd managed to get back at their ops center and on the ride to your destination. And now your only tool to kill was the dog between your legs though he couldn't even do that, or he wasn't supposed to at least. Cerberus was meant to help apprehend hostiles, he wasn't trained to kill them.

Sure you'd asked for a gun, but the Captain's response had been an undoubted and immediate no. He didn't trust you and you couldn't exactly blame him even if it did annoy you. You hadn't exactly given him much to trust when it came to you though. "Besides," he'd said, clapping you on the shoulder and drawing out a grimace, "you aren't exactly moving the arm too well. Can’t have you shooting someone can I?” The memory drew a scowl from you even as your eyes were closed. Sleep escaped you for the moment until you finally gave up, at least for now, and sat a little taller in the seat.

The moment your eyes opened they were met with intense blue in the rearview mirror, watching you, always watching when you least expected it. God almighty you wished he would stop that, it made a shiver run through you every single time. Then again you knew that was a lie the moment you thought it, you never wanted that gaze to leave you. You were so maddeningly drawn to this man you’d have taken any morsel of attention he paid you. And he’d been paying you more than a few crumbs share since you’d begun to turn the tides on him.

Those depths held you entranced, frozen in time even as the car kept speeding through the seemingly endless streets. Please look away John, please, because there was no way you could manage it yourself. You’d have suffocated in that man’s gaze if it weren’t for Ghost diving across the middle console and throwing the wheel to the side, swerving around a stalled car in the road. The eyes darted from you and back to the road, seemingly surprised as he blinked a couple times. “Fuckin hell old man, we need to get your eyes checked?” The big man looked between him and the road with a quick shake of his head before he settled back on his side of the car.

Swallowing hard you shot your gaze to the dog on the floorboard who gave a low whine at the sudden jerk of the vehicle. You could hear the annoyed huff of breath, more like flustered and still caught off guard if someone asked you, before Price answered, “I’m fine, I saw the bloody thing Lieutenant.” You didn’t see the rest of the silent conversation between the two. Instead you kept your focus on Cerberus, fingers rubbing circles into the muscles of his neck as you worked to soothe his nerves. The both of you needed a break but you’d get it in time. Soon.

It was a two and a half hour drive from their ops center to the Pakistani border, so they weren’t staying in Zabol. Somewhere closer it seemed, probably between Zabol and Zahedan, that was good to know for future reference. John had taken a dirt road off the main highway thirty minutes before that and had now parked the van on a ridge. There was a sheer drop down on the side that you needed to go before the hills shot back in the air in front of you forming a natural valley just on the edge of the border.

With everyone unloaded and checking their gear, you took a seat since no gear meant you had no need to worry about anything they were doing. Your gear was you, Cerberus, your head, and his head, that was all that mattered for you right now. Leaning back against the car you listened to the familiar sounds of chambers being checked and magazines being loaded.

Besides you knew your thigh would be burning soon enough, no need to wear it out unnecessarily when you didn’t even have anything to do. Cerberus, attached to your hip once again by his spare lead, sat in front of you. Your hands were cupping his face, taking careful stock of his attention which you knew was waning, especially after the car ride here. The both of you were nearing the end of your rope now. It would be a hard few hours, but just those few hours more and you were done. Just a few more hours.

Pulling your hands away from his face you kept one lifted in the air and muttered, “Beruhren,” his paw lifted to slap against your palm before it fell again to the ground. “Platz,” he dropped to his stomach, “Umdrehen,” he rolled all the way over quickly, tail kicking up dust behind him as it wagged. He was getting excited now, regaining some of the focus you knew he’d been losing during the down time. “Brummen,” his whole body vibrated with a low growl. A terrifying sound that would have sent shivers up your spine had it not been for the fact you knew him so well.

You let him rumble for a few seconds before you snapped out, “Gib laut!” His maw opened and he barked a singular time. Teeth snapped shut just in front of your face before his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth and he sneezed, his whole body shaking like he’d been dunked in the water. Your hands shot to his neck, running up and down the length of the hard muscle rough and quick as you muttered, “Braver Hund! Such a good boy,” his tongue flicked out to your face and you quickly wiped the saliva off on your shoulder before using him to stand up from your spot on the ground.

Chocolate eyes followed every movement now, refocused and centered on everything you were doing. When you stepped back around the front of the car John casted a quick look your way before turning to the rest of the team, “Ok, we’re on foot from here. Laswell has our quick extract once we have the wife and kids. Copy?” The quick affirmatives resounded through everyone including you. Get there, get the family, and get out. After that you could finally fucking sleep.

Price and Gaz led you all, with Soap, you, and Watcher lined up behind in order. Ghost and Konig were bringing up the rear, the taller of the two a few steps ahead of the Lieutenant. Yall started off repelling down the ridge, and as much pain as you were in doing it you refused to ask any of them for help. It was your burden to bear. Even if Cerberus' added weight added pounds you weren’t sure you could hold up it didn’t matter, he was your responsibility. You picked his front half up off the ground, connecting the vest he'd donned for the mission to your own tactical harness before you did the same with his back half. He was attached to your hip literally this time, his feet just above the ground while he stayed compliantly limp in the harness. Hooking yourself to the rope you backed up over the side with a grimace of pain.

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were favoring your right side heavily. Your right hand was stuck into your vest as you descended with the strength of the left alone. You were pushing off the wall with only the single leg you could still manage the repeated motion with, only using the right leg to stabilize yourself. It was painful and arduous, and it made your already aching body and mind hurt even more.

A little over halfway down your progress stalled on the rope. Bracing yourself against the face of the uneven rock and looking up and down you fought to catch your breath. Typically this wouldn't have been even a moment of issue for you but the events were starting to take their toll. Your adrenaline reserves hadn't yet filled back up after you'd burned it all out and you were still running on near empty. A voice in the comms spoke quickly, making your pounding heart stutter for a quick moment, "What's wrong Speck?" That voice in your ear was going to cause so many problems on this mission and you could already feel one trying to pop up right now.

Not right now, you had a job to get done. Looking down at the four men already on solid ground below you, you reached for the comm on your vest with your injured hand. "Nothins wrong," a quick breath in, "I'm comin down just needed a second," and a quick breath out. You hooked the thumb of your injured hand back into the strap of the vest and pushed off the wall. It drove a huff of air out of your lungs at the effort, but you did it again, and then again, until you were finally at the end.

When your feet hit the ground you unhooked yourself from the rope quickly. Cerberus was off the ground less than a foot attached to your own harness and as you tried to step back you felt your leg trying to give out under the weight. You were barely holding yourself up without the addition of all the tactical gear and the seventy-five pound dog to boot. It was almost too much for your body to handle.

A hand grabbed your shoulder to help steady you, Gaz coming around in front of you and lifting up the dog's weight so you could detach him. The relief was instantaneous and you quite nearly moaned out a thank you but settled for a nod to the younger man. He kept an eye on you for a moment as you readjusted your vest and other various bits, "'Preciate it Gaz." The young man quirked up his mouth in a half smile before he finally left you alone to go do something else.

Adjusting Cerberus' vest you only looked up again when Konig's boots hit the ground and he detached himself. Ghost made it down in record time, touching down a few seconds after the tallest member of the squad and thankfully making up for the time you'd wasted. The team was back on the road a few seconds after the Lieutenant gave the ok, back in your formation and trekking across the open terrain.

The journey had sweat pouring off every face, and you swore you caught sight of even Ghost and Konig lifting their masks up a few times when they turned around to check behind the group. Cerberus' head was drooping low at your side, even the endless fountain of energy that Dutch Shepherd's were known to possess did in fact have its end it seemed. When Price finally called for a pit stop you were the first to take a seat, thigh burning at the sweat seeping into your wound and the stitches that pulled at your skin with every step you took. Canteens in every hand in a matter of seconds.

Watching quietly you unclipped something from your belt, opening the collapsible bowl and setting it on the ground. Pouring some of your own water into the bowl for Cerberus to lap up. You took slow sips from the canteen indirect contrast to Soap who was gulping water from his canteen and pointing to something on a piece of paper Gaz had pulled out and was showing him. Watcher was sitting back to back with Konig and facing you while the tall man was looking up at Gaz and Soap while they talked in their quiet tones. Probably trying not to get overheard by you honestly. Ghost turned his back to the group and this time you know you saw the mask lift as he took a few sips from his canteen before he returned it to its place in his bag.

Looking for John you noticed he wasn’t in front of you. Turning to look over your shoulder you caught sight of movement. It was him standing just a few yards behind you. The tall man had taken a vantage point he could watch everyone, taking stock of how everyone was faring so far. You remembered when that had been you, separating yourself somewhat from the group to keep a tactical and objective view. It had turned you callous to your team’s problems in the end, forced you to be cold and uncaring else you risked being unable to send them into the fight. You wondered if it was or had done the same to him. How did he fare as leader?

Pouring a bit more water into the now empty, collapsible bowl you pushed yourself back to your feet. You unclipped the lead from yourself, leaving Cerberus to rest and recover in his own space and time. John’s eyes were on something in the distance when you turned to find him again. Sidling up to him you made it close enough that when he turned back to the team he was right in front of you, only a few inches away from pressing against you.

Blue eyes traveled down the length of your body before he cleared his throat and returned his gaze to the thing in the distance, “Speck?” It wasn’t a greeting so much as a ‘What do you want?’

You wet your still dry mouth with another sip from your canteen and asked, “What are you looking at?” A side eyed look fell on you then and even in your state of exhaustion and emotional unawareness you could see the frustration he was trying to hide. Frustration at you. You deserved it, that you knew, but it still upset you to see it there.

A quick jerk of his chin towards the distance made you squint into the heat haze, the light bending in some way you were sure science could explain but not you. You’d never really cared for book learning, you were a common sense kind of guy. A verbal answer followed as you continued to watch, “There’s a Pakistani military base that way. They respond to calls at the border so we need to make sure we’re not between them and the call that we know will be coming from the border soon.” Made sense, but he shouldn’t have known where any foreign military base was in the area.

It was your turn to give him a side eyed look, your brows furrowing as you wondered how he knew that. You hadn’t even known that and you’d driven a family through here not too long ago. John didn’t seem willing to elaborate though, and you weren’t willing to ask a question you knew wouldn’t get an answer. Not when you had more pressing questions on your mind anyway. “Why didn’t you ask me when you were interrogating me? You had every opportunity.”

The suffocating tension in the air was felt nearly immediately, making you swallow hard. He didn’t let the silence linger for long though as he answered, “I have a job to do. What I want doesn’t matter, duty calls…” It was then that the silence struck, his words hanging in the air as a harsh reminder of the note you’d left him. Your gaze flicked to the rest of the team who were all still doing whatever it was they wanted to do, seemingly having not yet noticed the conversation you’d struck up with the Captain…yet.

How were you supposed to explain that away? Was there any way to actually soothe the burn you’d left him with? Probably not, especially not with your heavy handed approach to delicate things, and that was what this tenuous partnership between you and his team, delicate. “I’m sorry.” It was a lame apology, lackluster and missing the explanation you were sure he was looking for and that you knew for a fact he deserved, even though you didn’t have one to give him.

His huff of air beside you had you turning to look at him. Blue hues had already been staring though you weren’t sure how long they had been. “For what?” A fair question that had too many answers, and it seemed he was about to list every single one, “For lying to me about the simplest things? Or was it for failing to let me know you were leaving my house? Maybe you’re sorry about leaving me standing in my door and having to watch you drive away in a bloody taxi?” His voice had lowered to a dangerous whisper while you watched him with an even look, “Or are you sorry for nearly fucking both of my Sergeants in the middle of ops for everyone to see?” God he was angry, and shit if it wasn’t hot as hell to watch that passion dance across every feature of his face.

“You’re sorry for yourself, Speck,” he nearly spat your call sign out at you with disgust. “Don’t pretend like it’s anything different,” his shoulder smacked into yours with force, and it took everything in you not to flinch and reach for the injured extremity. Pulses of pain ran through your stiff form as you tried to regain control of yourself. It hurt to see that anger directed so wholly at you, and it hurt even more to see the pain that you knew you had caused. His agonies were your fault and it made your entire being tense with that knowledge. Knowing you’d hurt him was far worse than wondering if you had.

When you turned back to the group John was already telling them all to get their stuff together. Your break was over apparently, back to the sweating and misery of the hike. He didn’t even look at you again, even though you were internally begging him to. You hadn’t meant what you’d thought in the car, never in a million years would you have truly meant that. It seemed whatever higher power existed didn’t care though because John’s back remained stubbornly in your face as the team set out to finish the rest of this mission.

By the time you could see the small village you’d been heading for the entire team was drenched in sweat. It was quite literally pouring off yall in buckets. A small stand of trees provided you with cover on the hill you’d taken up residence on for the past few minutes. John was looking through a pair of binoculars as everyone else prayed for the sun to finally set. When he finally pulled them away from his eyes he handed them off to Ghost who was standing with him, pointing somewhere in the distance and whispering to him. When the big man gave an answering nod blue eyes turned back to the rest of the group, locking on you before he lifted his hand and beckoned you over.

Pushing yourself up you unhooked Cerberus’ leash and muttered, “Bleib,” letting him rest after the long hike. There was no need to make him suffer the walk over there when you were the only one necessary. Stepping up beside the Captain you muttered, “What’s up?”

John didn’t even bother to look at you before he asked, “Which building is it?” You squinted at the buildings, before Ghost reached across the Captain and silently handed you the set of binoculars. Lifting them you searched for the home, ‘Take them to the big house on the east end of the village, Speck.’ That’s what your handler had told you to do and so you had.

Handing them back to John you answered his question, “Big house on the east end of the village. But I uh,” your hesitation drew both of the cold gazes to you then before you felt compelled to finish, “Well I can’t go in with yall. There’s women inside and the man doesn’t like strangers already, the bunch of us go waltzin up in there and we’re never gonna get anything from him. I already told you that. Plus,” you looked down at the tactical harness around your hips and the vest and radio they’d outfitted you with before you left ops, “I certainly can’t go in like this. They don’t know I’m American, or they aren’t supposed to. Gotta get rid of this shit.”

There was a sour look on John’s face as he processed the information before finally nodding, “Ghost, take Soap and Gaz with you.” The big man nodded and stepped away, grabbing the attention of the two young men before they headed off to the north somewhere. Price stepped away from the side of the hill, turning back towards where the sun was setting behind yall and motioned at Konig and Watcher, “We’re leaving. Watcher, I need one of those earpieces, the one’s that work without the vest.” The two stood up quickly in response, Cerberus, who had been enjoying the quiet scratches from the ginger Scot watching them leave him behind with a muffled whine.

Watcher dug around in his bag for a couple moments while you shed the tactical gear you’d been given. Finally he pulled out the earpiece he was looking for. The young man handed it to John as the tallest and shortest on the team continued on by him down the hill. The tall brunette stopped beside you, “Wait five minutes and then go. We’ll be hidden but we’ll be there.” You gave him a quick nod in response as you handed over the gear as well as Cerberus’ harness and lead. He shoved them in the bag on his back before throwing it back over his shoulder and following Konig and Watcher down the hill.

Your eyes followed them until the growing darkness hid them from sight, especially at this distance. Counting the seconds in your head, you took a seat on the ground and waited with Cerberus beside you. Everything was so cool now, even a little wind picked up to dry the sweat that covered your face. You closed your eyes against it, taking in a deep breath as your limbs went limp. It wasn’t like you meant for it to happen, to be honest you would have sooner smacked yourself on the thigh right where the stitches were than let the cool breeze lull you into slumber but the next thing you heard was a frantic whisper of, “Speck!? Where the bloody hell are you!?”

Jumping awake you glanced at the darkness around you, searching for the source of the voice until you realized it’d come from right in your ear. Good Lord you were fucked today. You pushed yourself up and hurriedly answered, “On the way.” No one responded, and you couldn’t tell if that was worse or not. “Cerberus, fuss,” and the familiar weight settled against your leg as you started down the hill. Slowly at first, getting the stiffness out of your legs, before you sped up to a quick jog. The Dutch Shepherd kept up easily, as the village came into view.

No lights adorned the streets, hell there wasn’t even any power to this whole place. It was eerily quiet, and you felt eyes on you despite seeing no faces to which they belonged. That was how it had been the last time too. You’d stopped your sprint down the hill before anyone inside could have seen you. A stranger in their midst was enough attention for you already. Movement ahead caught your attention but you couldn’t make out if it was a local or one of the teammates you’d recently been introduced to.

A quiet voice caught your attention, “Stay focused. We’re covering the front of the home now.” You had to stump the urge to nod an answer or touch the ear that the voice came from. Stay focused, he says. Whispering quiet words into your ear was certainly not the way to keep you focused on the mission, John.

The door to the home loomed in front of you as you lifted a hand and tapped a solid rhythm into it. It took several moments before you heard a lock turn and saw the door slowly pull inwards to reveal the face of a familiar glaring man. He spoke in Balochi first, thankfully it was very similar to Pashto, so when he gave you the standard greeting you repeated it with a quick nod. His eyes looked you over critically before he asked you a question. You thought you knew what he said but you weren’t certain, so you shook your head slowly and asked, “Pashto?” His brows furrowed and he nodded slowly so you continued in the language, “I need the family back.” The man tilted his head at the request but he didn’t respond with a no at least. “I have more questions for them,” the man glanced nervously behind you as if he was looking for something.

Finally, he answered back, “Come inside, not out here.” He stepped back from the open door, beckoning you into the home. Shit, you didn’t even have so much as a fuckin knife. You go in there you could be as good as dead in a matter of seconds. But, did you even have a choice? Go in and they could kill you before anyone can get to you. Don’t go in and John might still do the same. Fuck it.

You stepped in after him, Cerberus right between your legs now as you moved into the narrow entryway. The man was at the end, making sure you shut the door behind you and you heard more voices through the mic in your ear starting with Ghost saying you had entered the building and ending with Price asking what the hell you were doing. “Why couldn’t this be discussed outside?” You asked the man at the end of the hallway, stepping into a small, nearly empty, living space.

His answer was quick, “I haven’t received a call regarding them. You are not supposed to be here.” Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, watching him shrink back from you and the dog, both of you now staring intently at him. His eyes flicked to another narrow hallway, and you followed his gaze. He took another step back from you and returned his eyes to the hallway. Like he was trying to tell you something without actually saying it.

The feeling wasn’t right, no explosives according to Cerberus but something was certainly different than the time you’d been here last. “Pashto?” You asked again and the man gave a slow nod, before you asked, “Farsi?” He nodded just once before he shook his head and you continued in Farsi, “Is someone else here?” The man nodded again, vigorously, and your eyes returned to the hallway, “Knife?” He gestured towards the open archway into the kitchen and you stepped through it, eyes searching for the weapon before you slid it off the counter and started down the hallway.

Cerberus stayed between your thighs, moving in tandem with every step you took in the small passages of the home. When you stopped at the first door you glanced back at the man who gave you another quick nod. Boy wasn’t this some of the dumbest shit you’d ever done. Looking down at the dog you put your hand on the door knob and as you turned it you let out a quick, “Voraus!” The dog ran in ahead of you and you followed quickly. The second you both were in the room though a door further down the hall opened and shut. Two doors, one room, shit. Cerberus lunged at the now closed door, barking and scratching at it.

John was in your ear nearly immediately, “What happened? Speck, what’s your status?” He said that word with one hell of a cute accent, you suddenly realized. No time to dwell though, you pulled the door open and Cerberus surged through the opening turning further down the hall. Why had he gone further into the house, why not the front door? As Cerberus sprinted by another door it flew open, smacking you in the face and sending you stumbling backwards with a hand on your bleeding nose.

A quiet curse accompanied by a groan caught the Dutch Shepherd’s attention as he realized what had happened and turned. He had no space though, the turn was slow and awkward. And when you saw the barrel of a gun around the edge of the door you kicked out a foot. It flew closed, trapping whoever it was by the forearm. You acted without much thought now, John’s words long forgotten as you jammed the knife through what you could see of the man’s right arm and watched his gun drop to the hallway floor. The second it did you grabbed the weapon and opened the door for Cerberus to plunge inside, watching him tackle the man to the ground with his teeth around his forearm. One shot, one head, one man dead.

“Fuss,” you issued the command, and expected to hear the voices again, but there weren’t any. You reached a hand up to your ear but the earpiece was gone. Good Lord it was always something. Rather than dwell on it though you continued down the hall, opening the door to the outside, so that was why whoever it was had headed further inside. You didn’t see them, nor any tracks, but thankfully you didn’t need to. “Such,” you told the dog who took a few steps forward, nose to the ground as he sniffed at the dirt.

Not even a second later he took off, and it was your turn to follow the dog. You left the little village behind at a breakneck pace, holding the stolen pistol in your hand, and ignoring every shock of pain from your leg. You didn’t see John, Konig, and Watcher busting into the man’s home, sweeping through the rooms of the house to come up empty for you and the family. You didn’t hear the Captain yelling at you until Watcher found your earpiece shattered on the hallway floor. Nor did you hear Price near begging Ghost to tell him that he’d seen you leaving, or had some clue as to where you were.

And you certainly didn’t hear Ghost answering him that he’d seen you leaving the home out the back, through an exit none of you had even known about. You didn’t even know that Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were doing their best to keep an eye on you as you made your way across the open ground, trying to head you off before the Dutchie took a hard turn directly South and away from them.

Cerberus was following the scent so fast you were having a hard time keeping up with him. At least until he paused, walking back and forth over the same spot for a few seconds. As you caught up to him you heard whines, watching his head lift as he looked around the dark area. "What's wrong buddy?" Cerberus turned towards you for barely a second before he barked and took off again. Whatever it was he'd solved his problem it seemed, you still had yet to solve your own though. No backup, no flashlight, and no witness to show for all your troubles.

Not until Cerberus' thundering barks started, you were close. Close enough that he was slowing down, looking up at you as if to say, "He's right here, don't you see him?" No. You didn't. "Cerberus-" just about to give the command to search again you caught sight of movement disappearing over a rocky hill. "Stop!" You yelled out in Pashto, but the person kept going. "Fuss," you said and took off with Cerberus at your hip. "Stop," you yelled again in Arabic this time, cresting the hill and looking down at the rocks that stood between you and your quarry. Big enough that whoever it was could hide from you the entire way down the hill. With only the moon to light your way it certainly didn't make things any easier.

Cerberus was calm at your side, and when you glanced behind you the thought to just go back to the rest of the team crossed your mind. But you'd be going back after you lost the ear piece, seemingly fled from the team, and had killed the only other person who could tell you where the man you were looking for was, or his family at least. You'd be going back only to disappoint them…or rather him.

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, it was your catchphrase at this point. "Such," you gave the quiet command, watching Cerberus move quietly through the rocks with you staying a few feet back. As you neared a boulder he sat down, staring at it quietly. You edged closer, before calling out to the person in Arabic, "If you don't come out I'm sending the dog. I just want to talk. Come out, hands first." Not a sound came out from behind it, and for a few moments you wondered if Cerberus was wrong.

Until two hands appeared from around the boulder. You leveled the pistol with one hand at the person, watching as they came out slowly, staring at you. They were stock still as you watched them, until light seemed to blind them for a moment coming from the top of the hill accompanied by a, "Bloody hell, Speck." The voice caught your attention, blinded you to everything else, and in an exhausted, adrenaline fueled state you turned to look up. Three lights shined down at you, one of them you knew belonged to John. You didn't see the panic form on his face, you only saw the light of his rifle flick away from you and his voice yell, "Look-"

It took less time for you to turn back than it had for you to initially turn around. A gun was in their hand, his hand. Time was slow, like when you tried to run in water. The command left your mouth in one heartbeat, "Fass!" Cerberus shot forward, your hand steadied its aim but there was no need to. As the gun aimed at your head the dog's mouth closed around their forearm and his head shook violently, ripping at the flesh there even as a single shot went off into the air and the man fell back screaming.

A hand touched your shoulder and you turned, staring at John's face, illuminated by Konig and Watcher's lights. You could see the worry as his eyes ran over your form in a quick glance, ensuring himself you hadn't taken a bullet. "You broken?" You glanced down at yourself and shook your head in answer, looking back up at him, seemingly unfazed by the fact you’d almost been killed. The hand on your shoulder tightened its hold just a bit, fingers digging in as he nodded slowly seemingly pleased with your nonverbal answer for once.

The worry melted away though when growls penetrated the sound of the night, drawing your attention to the man currently being torn apart by a dog on the ground, listening to another scream go up in the air. You stepped forward, sliding the pistol into the waistband of your pants before grabbing Cerberus by the scruff, and glancing up at John who gave you a quick nod.

"Aus," immediately the dog let go, and you pulled him back, listening to his excited barks as the Captain took the man's pistol and rolled him over. Zip ties went around his wrists behind his back before he was hauled up and shoved up the hill. The man flinched away from Cerberus as you muttered, "Gib laut! Braver Hund!" The dog was going wild, he'd done a good job and he knew it, and he was more excited to be recognized for it, especially by you.

Your hand stayed firmly in the dog's scruff as he continued to try and dart forward, lunging against your firm hold in his excitement. You didn't want to ruin his fun, he was too proud of himself, but you couldn't let him get away from you either, not with the hostile detained already. As you crested the hill you caught sight of lights about two hundred yards off, seemingly searching the rocky outcroppings heading in your general direction. John handed the man off to Konig with a hard shove and pressed the button on his radio, "You're headed right for us Ghost, we see you. Shining my light your way now," the Captain swept the barrel of his gun in an arc watching the lights in the distance focus in your direction.

Cerberus was still barking, tail going wild as you looked at John and asked, "I could use my gear back now if ya don't mind." He slid his bag off and handed you the Dutchie's harness and lead first. You glanced down at Cerberus before saying, "Beruhigen," immediately his barks quieted and his wagging tail slowed, settling down as you put his vest back on him. You heard John radio in for the extract, watching him press a button on his helmet, probably for ISR tracking on your position. Snapping the lead on Cerberus and then on your own belt you rubbed your fingers over his head, whispering quiet praises to him that he desperately needed to hear after the longest target pickup of your life.

As you slid your vest on, along with the harness you'd used to rappel off the cliff earlier, you caught sight of that burning gaze. The frustration with you seemed to have abated for the moment after you'd given them a lead of some kind at least. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were the only ones who could break his concentration on you, well that and the arrival of the sound of helicopter blades overhead. Now that was a sound that could put you to sleep, and it would the second you were strapped in. A nice clean extract for once, no injuries, not really any hiccups, good God almighty wasn't that nice.

You'd expected to be drug back to the same ops center as before, but when the helicopter landed next you were offloaded into a military base. To say the least you were surprised, and when John made straight for a blonde woman in civilian clothes, accompanied by a few men who took your detainee, you were more than curious as to who she might have been. There was no chance to ask though as the two split up and the Captain stopped to let the rest of you catch up, pointing towards what you assumed was a barracks area and said, "Come on guys, Laswell told me we smell like shite."

Soap smacked Ghost on the back as he sprinted ahead, "Oh fuck yeah. Need meself a shower." The big man gave a quiet huff of ascent to which the dark haired Scotsman answered a bit offended, "What's that supposed to mean then? Ye know ye dinnae exactly smell like a bloody rose yerself Lt." You couldn't see Ghost’s face then but you didn't need to in order to know that there was a glare currently affixed to the shorter man.

Following at the back of the group you stayed completely quiet, watching the others break off one by one to disappear inside their bunkhouses. Watcher and Konig headed off together, and then Soap and Gaz, and then John and Ghost. It left you and Cerberus to stand awkwardly alone in the middle of the path just looking about curiously. They must have forgotten you didn’t actually have a place to go, you also didn’t have any other clothes to your name seeing as you’d left your duffel bag in the ops center. Well this sucked.

It was Gaz who came back around the corner first, eyeing you a bit confused. When he reached you and Cerberus his head tilted a bit before his eyes widened in realization and he said, “Oh damn mate! I forgot you don’t have anywhere to bunk do you?” A quiet shake of your head confirmed the answer and Gaz looked around as his hand ran over his short hair. “Cap!” The dark eyes flicked over your shoulder and you turned to see the Captain leaving his and Ghost’s shared bunkhouse. The brunette turned to head your way, a bag slung over his shoulder and flip flops on his feet in place of the boots you’d only ever seen him wearing.

Every ounce of resolve went into dragging your eyes away before you heated up in the worst way possible. “Gaz?” John was glancing between the two of you, wondering what it was that’d gotten him called over here.

Gaz nodded towards you and said, “He doesn’t actually have anywhere to bunk. Or any clothes for that matter, Cap.” There was a nonchalance to your gaze that was honestly comical in the situation. Not only did you not really care about losing everything you owned, it seemed you also couldn’t have cared less about not having a place to sleep.

John simply nodded in response, “Laswell brought your bag. It’s waiting for you in the showers. And you’ll be bunking with Ghost, he’s being moved over there.” He nodded towards the only bunkhouse you hadn’t seen anyone else go into earlier. “Now come on, and bring the dog, he looks like someone threw a bucket of paint all over him.” You glanced down at Cerberus’ bloody visage, a sight that definitely needed to be remedied even if it was his badge of honor to wear. He’d worn it long enough.

You followed the other two men then, both of whom had thrown bags over their shoulders. The showers were devoid of anyone else, a few rows of lockers standing between you and the warm water you knew laid beyond. It wasn’t your turn to shower though, first you’d get Cerberus cleaned off and settled back in the bunkhouse with some food, water, and a nice place to rest and then you could get yourself handled.

So that was what you did. Unclipping his vest you threw it next to your duffel bag, pulling the dog behind you under a shower head and turning the water on. “Sitz,” you muttered and watched the blood caked and dried into his dark fur begin to run down the drain. Gaz, passing by you with only a towel thrown over his shoulder, stopped and said, “Hey mate, this is for you. I had an extra one.” He tossed a bottle of soap to you, making sure you caught it before he continued on down to another shower.

Squeezing a bit of the soap out you ran it over the black and brindle fur quickly. Cleaning the Dutchie up as he licked at your face. It wasn’t until you stood up and turned the water off that you said, “Rütteln,” and watched him shake his fur out. You smiled at the way it spiked up in clumps, and his tail shot water with every wag. At least he smelt better though, you’d both been getting more than ripe in that cramped little sweatbox of an apartment.

You stepped around the corner and that was when all thought left you. Hell you were pretty sure your heart and lungs had stopped working just as much as your brain had. The sight in front of you had your fists clenching and your pupils blown wide. John. He stood not even five feet in front of you naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist. You hadn’t even heard him go by you in the showers but he’d obviously taken one. The man was literally glistening with the water. Standing with his bare chest on display for anyone passing by the row of lockers to see, dark hairs littering his pale skin.

A feeling of lightheadedness took over your body, and you were very, very close to passing out. God, your blood pressure was through the roof. You could feel it pounding not only in your ears and your neck but in your temples as well. There was a throb at the base of your instantly hard cock, an ache settling there as it begged for your attention.

When he turned and caught you staring was when you saw it, for the first time, a hint of smugness there. He’d wanted you to see him, wanted you to be standing there frozen and wanting him and with no way to get your revenge in any subtle manner. It was payback for basically feeling up both Gaz and Soap earlier at the ops center. Goddamn was he sight, you were a man who hadn’t found an oasis in far too long now, not since you’d been with him last. And at this very moment you were feeling every second of that time in abstinence.

The door opened somewhere off to the side and that was when he broke your hyperfocus. Just as you’d been watching a droplet of water sliding down his bare skin, through his dark happy trail and turning into nothingness where the towel was wrapped securely there. “I left you a couple towels next to your duffel bag,” hell his voice didn’t even sound the least bit suggestive and it still had you aching even more. You couldn’t even get out a simple, ok, in response. Not even Cerberus beside you was enough to break the hold his half naked body currently had on your weary mind. “You should go dry the dog off, Speck.” Now that did it. Your gaze shot down to Cerberus, finally breaking away from John as you nearly tripped over a naked Soap coming around the corner with a towel in his hand in your haste to get away.

“Hey watch where yer-” he stopped as his eyes fixed to your face and his beaming smile turned up to you, “Oh well hello there Speck. Wee Cerby gettin a bath too?” Slowly your wits came back around and you got your head on straight before nodding down to him. “Thas nice, well don’t be too shy. Ye need to get yerself a shower too. Cannae be howlin’ when yer bunkin with Ghost. Ye might just wake up out on the tarmac.”

You huffed a bit at that, “Damn right I do,” you muttered in answer as you stepped around him, back into the row of lockers you’d left your duffel bag in. Two towels sat beside the black bag and you picked one up, drying the dog off before you slipped his collar on over his head. “Are ya hungry Cerberus?” The dog whined in answer, no doubt he was, you’d both been at it for far too long now. You fished into the duffel, pulling out the last of his dog food and the two bowls you always kept packed. His loud bark echoed through the showers and several curses followed it. “Sorry,” you called out before clipping the dog’s lead on him and wrapped it around your waist to take him back to the bunk.

Settling him in was easy enough, he dug into the bowl of food with fervor and the water bowl had to be filled up before you even had the chance to leave again. Finally though you made it out of there, just in time to see John, thin t-shirt and a pair of jeans on now. He looked just like he had at the bar that night, even his beard was trimmed up now. Had it been trimmed when you were staring at him? Hell who were you kidding, he could have dyed his hair purple and you wouldn’t have noticed back at the showers. You were too focused on the way his muscles had moved underneath the skin. And how the soft hairs on the front of his body seemed to outline every angle of him.

Just as you had been about five minutes ago, you were caught staring again. Ocean hues landed on your face and his narrowed eyes cut into you like a hot knife through butter. You swallowed, refusing to acknowledge the tightness in both your chest and your underwear. A shower was all you needed, a long, ice cold shower. Shoving your hands in your pockets you forced your gaze away, feeling that burning stare along your back as you headed back to the building you’d come from before.

Gaz passed you on his way out, holding the door open and smirking before muttering, “Good luck in there. Soap’s singing again.” Your brows furrowed as you entered the showers, not quite catching on to what he was saying.

Immediately your ears were assaulted by loud pleas from multiple people to stop and then an outrageously loud, “AND IIIIIIIIEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUUU-” echoed through the whole shower block. Your hands clap over your ears, the sound vibrating in your ear drums in just a way that it made your exhausted brain dizzy with the vibrato. Damn, it wasn’t like it was bad, it was just not the time or place for something like that. You have to admit though, it was kind of funny.

Grabbing the towel from the bench where you’d left it you slipped into the shower you’d used for Cerberus. The singing didn’t stop when he reached the end of the song though, Soap just started up with another. “CAUSE BABY YOU’RE A FIREWORK! COME ON SHOW EM WHAT YOU’RE WORTH-” and the Soap playlist continued. You were turning around to wash the grime out of your hair when the skull faced mask caught you by surprise. He wore it in the shower too?

Ghost didn’t stop to chat, just nodded quietly and kept on going by, his towel held around his waist by a single hand near his hip. You took in the tattooed forearm, a bit impressed by the intricacy of it. That wasn’t even considering all the other tattoos that decorated his scarred skin.

It wasn’t long before you heard two more sets of footsteps behind you. Both Watcher and Konig were heading by when you glanced back, not stopping to pay much attention to you as they went, save for a quick smile of acknowledgement from the ginger. You heard the door open and close a few times after that. Just you and Soap left now huh?

Though when the water shut off down the row of showers it seemed he wouldn’t be in here much longer either. At this point you were very nearly sleeping with your eyes open under the warm water. Just letting the tensions wash out of your muscles and mind. Letting them slide down the drain like the dirt, blood, and sweat on your skin.

The clearing of a throat made your eyes open and you stared now at the azure hues in front of you, noticing his amusement in a heartbeat. You raised a brow at his warm gaze, that was traveling lower with every second. “My eyes are up here darlin,” you finally said before he could really take in all the sights, forcing his gaze up to your eyes.

Azure fixed on you then and his beaming smile was like a ray of sunshine, this man was just too damn happy all the time. It did make him slightly endearing though you had to admit. “I know where they are, just thought I’d figure out where everything else is though.” His head tilted as he inspected your face before asking, “How’s the nose? Broken or anything?” You’d honestly forgotten about it.

During the chase you hadn’t even touched it, just let it leak all over the front of your shirt, covering you in blood just like Cerberus was. Reaching a hand up you prodded it with your fingers before shaking your head, “Nah it’s fine. I’ll sleep it off tonight.” Soap laughed at that comment before nodding looking at your shoulder and the two bullet wounds on your arm.

All of the wounds he’d wrapped earlier were still tightly bound by the bandages, seemingly to his dismay. “Ye need to take those off while yer in there. Come see me after yer done showering and I’ll replace them, aye?” You gave him another nod and watched him push off the side of the shower entryway to head back to the locker room. He was talking in there but you couldn’t hear what he was saying and soon he too left.

You pulled at the bandages wrapped around your limbs, exposing the stitched up areas to the world with a wince. Alone you were a bit more expressive, you allowed yourself to feel the pain. Besides you were so exhausted at this point that pain was probably the only thing keeping you standing anymore. You threw the bandages onto one of the shelves, you’d throw them away when you were getting out. The sound of the door opening again had your head tilting towards the sound with a sigh before you asked loudly, “Forget your soap, Soap?”

No answer came, maybe it was Ghost then. He’d left in a hurry, so had Konig and Watcher. The little devil on your shoulder whispered false hopes in your mind that maybe it was him. It had your member twitching with need as it woke itself back up. You’d barely managed to settle it down the last ten times and here it was coming back. God it was so damn pushy.

Turning to face the shower head again you reached up, pulling it down so you could lean your forehead against the cool tile and still feel the warm water on your skin. You took deep breaths, ignoring your hips that shifted of their own thought and mind. Do not touch it, do not think about it, someone was in here and you could do this some other time. Not right now.

Water slid down your back as you lifted your hands to lace behind your neck. Weariness crept into you then as your hips kept humping mindlessly at the air, your cock wishing it could slip into something tighter, warmer, and wetter. “Shit, shit, shit-” a moan left your mouth of its own accord at the rough hand that was suddenly wrapped around your length. “What the fuck?” Your eyes shot over your shoulder as you started to pull away. When you saw those all too familiar eyes though you froze, and so did he.

It was a stalemate. Who was going to blink first? Fuck it. You. Most definitely you. You were going to break so hard and fast he’d never even see it coming. Without a thought you shifted back into him, pressing into his hard erection with the curve of your ass. Taking that as an invitation to continue his hand pumped along your length in response.

Lips tickled the back of your ear along with the hairs of his beard as he whispered, “Such a dirty little whore for me, Speck.” Another moan left you as he pushed you forward with his whole body seeming to press against you. Your chest came flush with the wall just as his chest came flush with your back. The cool tile burned your aching nipples, too cold on the overly sensitive skin.

There was too much happening, your pulse was throbbing in every injury you’d sustained. His breath along your skin was sending your mind into a frenzy of feasting piranhas. This had to be a dream, that was the only way the man who’d been glaring at you for the past however many hours would have been touching you right now. You were back in your bunk right now having a wet dream like some teenager and Ghost was having to listen to it.

But by God if you didn’t care, not with how his hand was pumping you with reckless abandon. He didn’t realize just how close you had already been before he got here. Too fast, too much, “S-Slow down,” you barely got out through your clenched teeth. The feel of his member pressed firmly between your cheeks and rutting up into them with his own needs had you fucking into his hand in time with his strokes and pushing back against him. You could feel the throb of him now. How close was he then?

Breath ghosted over the shell of your ear as he growled, “No. You’d do well to listen and remember, Speck. You think you won't get yours because I was gentle the first time around?” His grip on you tightened almost painfully so. The warm water served as a makeshift lubricant but it wasn’t anything like you needed to keep his calluses from catching on the sensitive flesh. But fuck if that little bit of pain didn’t make your pulse race even faster. “Cum. Now.” The low growl in your ear sent shocks through you, the tension at the base of your cock came apart in an instant at his order.

White ropes of your seed painted the tiles of the shower wall in front of you, but there was no relief. Not even as the last of the tension evaporated and you saw white drops of you sticking to the skin of his hand before the steady stream of water washed it away. The sensitive nerve endings and veins burned like fire, his hand still pumping your erection even after you’d found what you’d thought would be your high. It was not. “Fuck John, slow down,” he still wasn’t listening, “St-stop.” His hand stilled at the base of your member, and you blinked as you watched your cum disappearing down the drain.

Finally your brain caught up with your mouth and you relaxed against the wall, trying to wrap your head around what was happening. His gravelly voice had you twitching in his hand though as he said, “Gonna make me think you’re running away again? You just left, Speck. Again.” There was no crack in his voice but you could still hear the emotion there, the silent prayer that he was sending up in hopes you’d get what he was saying.

You didn’t. Sure you understood that what you had done was wrong. On both accounts. You never should have left without saying goodbye and you certainly never should have walked out that backdoor without backup. But what if you hadn’t? That trail would have been near impossible to follow on those rocks, the scent is harder to follow and it is very time sensitive. You’d made a decision in the heat of the moment with the ‘Fuck it’ method. And it’d kept you alive so far at least.

When you didn’t answer you felt a squeeze of his fingers at your hip as he said, “Were you trying to piss me off? Trying to get me all fuckin heated earlier today back at ops? Pressing up against Gaz, like you were gonna bend him over the table or some shite.” His firm grip ran along your length and your muscles tightened at the feeling. Teeth nipped at your shoulder before his breath slid across your skin, warm even under the hot water of the shower. “Letting Soap press up against you like he was a bitch in heat,” his grip on your hip tightened. He released your member to grab the other hip as well before his low, angry growl returned, “And you fuckin liked it, acting like a bloody slag the both of you were.”

The force of his body slamming you forward made you wince until he turned you around with a quick jerk of the hands around your hips. You took in the sight of him, it was the first time you’d ever seen him fully naked before and it made your cock jump. The burn in his eyes made your entire body burn, especially when he leaned forward. Just inches from your face before he stopped so close you could feel every breath as it left his mouth. You tried to move forward, to steal a kiss from his lips, but his hand shot up from where it had been around your hip a moment before and he held your jaw in tight grip. “On your knees. Now.” And who were you to disobey?

The pain in your thigh meant nothing compared to the ache and longing you’d had for him since the moment you’d woken up that next morning. His hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, God was it bigger now? It certainly looked like it was. Holy shit, had you forgotten how he looked and felt after so long? The thought had your mind spinning again, the thought of maybe experiencing it all for the first time yet again sending thoughts tumbling around your scattered mind.

One hand was stroking himself, staring down at you as if he was trying to read your very thoughts. The other grabbed at your hair and pulled your face up to stare at him. His hips inched closer and your eyes shot to the erection that was just tantalizingly out of reach of your mouth. You started to reach a hand up to hurry him along but he stopped you with a few words, “Keep your hands still or I’ll tie them up.” Another obeyed order and you could see the satisfaction in his eyes. He liked it when you listened to him. “Good boy, Speck,” the words were like a purr and they soothed your racing heart easily.

Finally he stepped closer, his cock just an inch or two away, just hovering above your face like a promise of a reward so long as you behaved. You opened your mouth, near begging to taste it, especially when you held your tongue out. Glancing up at his eyes you caught sight of his smile, watching the way his beard twitched at the sight of you on your knees for him.

Your eyes were trailing down his bare chest and abdomen. God, he was a Greek god statue and you were absolutely nothing in his presence. When your eyes finally found his hard member again he finally let it press against your tongue. You’d forgotten the way he tasted, the way his skin felt as it ran hot along your tongue.

His hips drug back until only the tip of your tongue was pressed on his length before he pressed forward again. Heavy balls hit against the underside of your chin and you immediately turned your head down and ran your tongue over them. He let out a quiet sigh at the feeling, using the hand in your hair to press your mouth even closer, urging you to continue.

Your lips sucked one into your mouth, tongue circling it before you pulled away for a quick moment and then your mouth found the other one. Little tugs at your hair directed you where he wanted you to go, and the first time you ignored it the hand tightened in your hair and pulled you back away from his throbbing member. Burning eyes glared down at you, before he growled, “You want it?” His other hand wrapped around the base of his bobbing cock again, waiting for your answer.

A vigorous nod took hold of you before you remembered he liked to hear your answer, “Hell yeah I do John. I want it so bad,” when your eyes shot up to find his gaze again he still didn’t look satisfied with your answer. Desperation was taking hold as he held your head still with one hand and held the long awaited treasure with the other. “I’ve wanted it everyday for the past eight months. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, haven’t stopped thinking about you. The way you taste, the way you felt inside me,” your teeth bit into your lip then and your eyes squeezed shut. Every word was not only going to the base of his erection but to yours as well.

When he finally jerked your head closer you glanced up to see the satisfaction on his face again. Listening to his gravelly voice rattle through you as he spoke, “Then start fuckin listening, Speck.” You nodded a quick answer and before you could verbalize it he continued, “Open your mouth.” God he was like a different man, and you couldn’t get enough of this side of him. Your jaw dropped open in response and finally, fucking finally, the weight of his heavy cock slid into your awaiting mouth. A groan left his mouth at the feel of your lips closing around him and sucking him in as if you were trying to speed up the slow drag of his hips.

Your tongue traced the water droplets across his shaft as he buried himself in your mouth at a steady pace. Even when he touched the back of your throat he didn’t stop, he was only halfway inside and he knew you could take more. He’d seen and felt you do it. Your throat relaxed around him as his hand finally released the base of his erection and wrapped around the underside of your jaw. He was holding you in place and from your past experience with him you were almost certain you knew what for.

Burying himself completely inside your mouth and down your throat he held you there, pulling you closer still as the short dark curls tickled the skin of your face. When you tried to swallow around him he groaned at the feeling and bucked forward. His hand at the back of your head hit the tiles first to soften the blow for your head. The fingers that had been around your jaw slid down around your throat, feelling the length of it but not like he was choking you.

You couldn't fathom what he might have been doing until he moaned into the steamy air and muttered, “Bloody hell I can feel myself every time I move.” He slid out of your throat then, fingers pressing against your throat as he reveled in the feel of him stretching you so much. Your lips were still around the tip of his member as you tried to suck the soul right out of him, watching his head tilt backwards for just a moment, “Got such a tight fuckin throat." He grunted into the air with another thrust and this time you could feel his fingers dancing along the skin of your throat as well before he growled, "And a perfect mouth for a whore.” John let your head stay pressed back against the tiles as he released his grip on your hair. You watched as he braced himself against the wall instead with his fingers spread over the wall. The thick digits of his other hand were still grazing across the thin skin of your throat, unwilling to let the feel of this escape him even for a second.

The pace as he kept going sped up quickly, but by no means had it started out slow. He wasn't giving you the chance to adjust to him, if your teeth got too close to him he just pulled your mouth open farther with his free hand. If you weren’t sucking hard enough he would bury himself as far as he could in your throat until you were gagging on his length. All the while he whispered quiet little praises and degradations that had your throbbing member aching.

“‘M close,” he grunted out suddenly between his light huffs of air and sighs of pleasure. You hummed around him as if you were begging for him to cum down your throat like he had the last time. Begging to taste him again, to swallow every drop to sate the hunger you'd been suffering through for too long. To give you everything he had just like you’d dreamed about too many times to count now.

John, it seemed, had other ideas though as he pulled out of the mouth he had fucked until your lips were red and puffy now. A large hand wrapped around his length as he stared down at you, his eyes half lidded and his chest heaving with the effort. Looking down at you on your knees for him, lips still parted ever so slightly as you were still catching your breath because of him. Because he'd fucked your throat so hard and so long you'd been drooling over his length completely drunk on the way he tasted. Your saliva was dribbling down your chin and slicking the cock he was currently jerking like there was no tomorrow. His freehand curled into your hair again, tilting your head back so you could see every inch of his body working to reach his high.

A figurative buffet for your hungry gaze to feast upon. Watching his hand twist at the tip like he was trying to mimic what you would have done to him, because you had done that to him. But his high seemed to have stalled as he jerked his hand up his length and groaned at the feeling. Unable to reach the finish line by himself though, even with your panting visage as his visual aid, he just couldn't get there. So desperate for release and still so far from it. You started to move your hand but stopped yourself remembering his earlier threat. So instead you simply asked, "Let me do it for you? Please, John, I wanna do it."

His forehead fell forward and he nodded, adding a quick, "God yes," with a voice that had lost all its edge from before. That domineering side seeming to have dissipated the moment he saw you wanting him, pleading for him to let you help. His hand fell away from his aching member and yours immediately replaced it. He was coming apart at your touch nearly immediately. Fingers still holding painfully tight in your hair meanwhile the other he'd moved back to the wall, holding himself up as he watched your steady hand work wonders on him.

It didn't take long before your other hand was working along your own shaft, aching for a real release this time, not like the one from before. John was too focused on the hand around him to notice your ministrations, too caught up in the way you were soothing that ache for him that he failed to see you were taking the chance to also soothe your own. When you found his burning gaze a thought crossed your mind. The memory of that look of satisfaction and the smile at nearly every plea that had fallen from your lips, the way he had wanted you to ask for it, to beg for it. Fuck it. "I want you to cum on my face John," a groan fell from his mouth and his forehead fell forward against his forearm, hips bucking into your hand. Oh yeah he was disgustingly close now, "Please, I want to see you cum sir," and with a twist of your wrist at the tip he moaned into the echoing room.

Thick ropes painted your face as he bucked his hips closer, some of it catching in your hair. The tip of his member slid across your cheek as his hips finally stilled and you pulled your wrist away. It wasn't until you broke eye contact and looked down at your own leaking member, that he seemed to fall back into that dominant role from before. The fingers in your hair tightened again and he pulled your gaze back up to him, "Don't you dare." Your hand faltered but you couldn't stop it, you were so fucking close again. You could feel it edging nearer even as he pulled you up off the tiles till you were standing and nearly eye level with him. "You don't get to cum yet," pleasure rolled through you at the words, heading straight down to the nearly releasing tension you were trying to drag out.

Fingers left your hair finally and your head fell back against the tiles with a groan. Until you felt them close around both your wrists as he drug your hands away from you painfully hard member. "What did I say?" He rumbled in your ear, deep and rough and everything he hadn't been the last time. A whine fell out of your mouth before you could stop it and you watched his eyes travel down to your lips. For a fleeting moment you thought he'd finally kiss you. God, he really had no place here not when John was around, but you wanted to taste his mouth again and you'd pray to any higher power so long as you got your wish. You wanted to feel him exploring every corner of your mouth again, his tongue sliding over yours like you knew only he could. Instead he turned you back around to face the wall, water spilling over your head before he pressed you into the tiles chest first again.

"You can't answer me when I ask you something? Ignore me when I tell you something? You're going to learn to listen today, Speck," he pulled your arms behind your back holding them both around the wrist with one hand. You pulled against him, tried to get away and chase your fleeing orgasm but his other hand tangled back into your hair and pulled your head backwards. Your back arched as his hips pressed flush against yours and you felt his still hard erection sliding against your wet skin again. You could feel his beard burning across your skin right next to your ear now. Feeling the way the prickly hairs scratched across your skin leaving a trail in a way that was still so familiar, and you knew you'd be scratching it tomorrow. The dangerous lilt of his voice made every inch of your skin light up, "If you want to cum again it'll be on the end of my cock."

"Good God yes, please, fuck me please," it seemed your mouth was still disconnected from your brain else you doubted you ever would have said those words in that order to anything but a fantasy. John smirked against the skin of your neck, his lips pressing against the delicate skin. He wanted to mark you up, the both of you knew it. The Brit wanted to stake his claim and let it be known that not a soul alive could touch you, and damn if you didn't want him to do it.

And yet he refrained, for now at least, because he could realize you were still very much in need of medical attention and neither of you wanted the others to find out about this. Especially not whenever Soap inevitably took a gander at your wounds, and inevitably couldn't keep his mouth shut that you had bite marks and hickeys all over you. And you were not very good at lying, never had been when it came to the real world and real people. Put you in a life or death situation and give you a fake identity and a name and you were golden. Put you in front of family and friends and you were a sweaty mess trying to keep it together.

Fingers slid against your tight hole as John's mouth continued to let out quiet breaths against the pulsing skin at your neck. He wasn't kissing it or biting it, just staying annoyingly out of range, teasing you with a promise for more and never coming through. Your lips pressed tight together, humming in anticipation before his fingers finally slid inside you without so much as a warning. They went all the way to the knuckle and drew out a string of quiet whines from your mess of a mouth. The fingers pumped steadily inside of you, too little of the wrong thing though, even as they curled inside of you. A smirk found your own mouth then as you let out a breath into the air, catching sight of him as he tried to figure out what'd brought that look out of you. He didn't have to wait long though as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers said, "Thought I told you to fuck me, John, not finger me."

What the hell was wrong with you? You thought it and when you caught sight of his face again you knew he was thinking the same damn thing. Staring at you with those furrowed brunette brows and twitching mustache that gave him away so quickly it was almost comical. He pulled his fingers out and you ached at the loss until you felt the blunt tip of his head sliding against your tight and unused hole.

Oh shit, how stupid could you possibly be? Very, was the answer to that question. You could feel his hesitation, the worry that he might hurt you like he almost had that first time in his truck when you'd stopped him while he was barely even inside of you. He whispered against your ear, more gentle this time than he had been this whole time, "Tell me to stop if you need me to. I don't want to hurt you." A quick nod of answer and you felt the tip pushing inside your too tight hole and drawing a groan at the burn.

Fuck you weren't ready for this, for him. You hadn't even touched yourself down there since you'd last seen him, you didn't really even know how to do so. It'd been eight months since anything had touched that tight ring of muscle and it might as well have just been your first time again. His hips pushed forward smoothly, every ridge and vein of his cock causing your breath to catch and little whines to roll out of you without thought. John didn't go slow though with your hands still trapped at the small of your back, and as he was sinking inside you he very nearly lost his hold.

Your hands were straining to grab onto something, to brace yourself against some solid object. Straining to find some semblance of control that he was hell bent on not allowing you. His hips came flush to yours and it was too much, too fast, and yet it felt so damn good. Your eyes rolled back in your head already drunk on him with his hand still around your wrists and the other still curled into your hair. The moan you let out was obscene, and you could feel his cock jump inside you at the sound drawing out a quiet breathy, "J-John," that had his mouth finally dipping into the space where your neck and shoulder met.

Breathless and body raging with need you pressed as close as you could to him, feeling him grinding deeper as you did. "Such a good whore for me, yeah?" You nodded without thought, humming your agreement in hopes it would mean he'd finally touch you. That he'd finally let you cum since he was deep enough you could feel every line of his body against yours. Your hopes were dashed though nearly immediately as he pulled out fast enough that you could feel your body clenching at the sudden absence, trying desperately to find where the source of your aching pleasure had gone.

When he slammed back into you though you were done for. You fell apart as he took what he wanted from you, using your trapped arms to pull you back so he could sink as deep as possible inside of you. Your thoughts were a mess which was only mirrored by your babbling mouth. In any normal conversation you would have barely said more than common pleasantries and just enough to keep the conversation going. But to him, for him, you were searching for any string of words that would have him groaning in your ear. It wasn't until his hands left your hair, your forehead falling forward against the tiles that his newly freed hand roamed your body. It drug across your skin, nails leaving their trail across your back and sides before the water dripping off of John's shoulders washed them away.

The pads of his fingers slipped around your side, beginning a slow descent to what you hoped was your aching member. Please, please, please- the string of begging thoughts rattled around in your mind. You needed it so bad, needed to finish the right way this time. Eight months of pent up need and frustration and you were beginning to tear up at the feel of him inside you. Gasping every time he pulled out and moaning like the whore he kept proclaiming you to be whenever he slammed back in at his brutal pace, clenching around him desperately every single time. You tilted your eyes down, watching his fingers glide lower, and lower, and then lower still until finally, good Lord thank you finally, he wrapped his hand around your throbbing length.

"Fuck yes, John," you breathed out his name like a whispered prayer, and not two minutes ago it had been one. "Please, please, let me cum. I need to, want to cum on yo-" the hand you were watching dropped your member and you felt a sob clawing up your throat at the loss of contact. Eyes shutting tight so you didn't see the hand coming. "No, no, please. I've been good, please I need-"

Fingers wrapped around your throat and cut off the rest of your sentence before it could leave you. You tried to gasp but there was no air to be had as he pulled you off the tiles and back against his chest again. "Stay quiet for me, Speck. I locked the door but someone might try to break in here if they hear you crying like that. Crying like a good little slag for me," he accentuated it with a hard thrust staying buried inside you for a few seconds as he grinded into your depths. Feeling him strangle the cry for more in your throat.

A nod was all you could manage and you barely even managed that before he finally released some of the tension around your throat. His fingers still held fast there though, keeping you from finding the cool tiles again or from taking in a deep breath like you so desperately wanted. Forcing your back to arch against his strong torso. His pace started back again, jolting into your depths with newfound speed and ferocity. "So good for me now huh? Willing to follow orders and be a good boy. Where was that at earlier, Speck?" You couldn't find the breath to answer him, shaking your head wildly because that was the only thing you could actually manage to do even if it wasn't really an answer. He sank inside of you and you could hear his own desperation now as he grunted and said through gritted teeth, "So bloody tight."

He was too much for you, pressing against every wall and nerve ending seemingly without any effort. You were never meant to have discovered this pleasure filled sin that was John Price. God the feeling of him inside you was better than a glass of sweet tea on the hottest day of the summer. He was going to be your undoing because nothing could match the way he felt when his hips slapped against your ass and he pulled you down even further on him, feeling him roll his hips against you. You were grinding back against him when you finally felt it. That shock that had you nearly doubling over as his cock slid against that bundle of nerves.

The fingers around your throat finally let go and you could gasp for air again. Leaning forward as far as you could and pressing back into him. You felt his hand against your ass, strong fingers digging into the flesh and still refusing you the freedom of your own hands. He pulled you back against him with one hand and then leaned forward, draping himself over your back with his hands still digging into your skin. His grip was hard enough you knew he was going to leave marks there even despite having been so careful up till now.

His teeth nipped at the lobe of your ear catching it between his teeth and sucking on it lightly. When his hand left your ass you hoped desperately it was heading back down to your throbbing cock. But when you saw it bracing him against the wall your eyes shut tight with a needy whine. Desperately you wanted to complain but you knew that would only prolong this torture. His lips trailed over your shoulder, pressing into the still sore muscle and soothing it nearly instantly with a gentle kiss. And then he was growling in your ear again with a voice deep with lust, "Cum." Your cock jumped at the order but even as you grinded back against him you couldn't manage to obey. The ache was still settled at the base so stubbornly you could've died and it'd have been there when you woke up in hell.

Whining out quietly you answered, "I-I can't. I need-" his beard grazed against the back of your neck as he moved to your other side, distracting your scrambled mind even more than it already was. "I- please- John- need-" Sentences tried to form in your mouth but they got no further than a couple words before dying on your tongue. A low hum vibrated through the man behind you as if questioning what you were saying. Fuck, even you didn't know what you were saying. There was a stutter of your hips as you tried to pull forward along his length, stopped immediately by the strong hold on your wrists as John shook his head against your shoulder.

The man behind you nuzzled against the crook of your neck, humming again as you tilted your head for him, inviting him to do whatever he pleased to the exposed flesh. God please let him understand what you were trying to say in order to save you from the agony of another lost orgasm. "You can do it, I've seen you do it. Came on my cock the last time and I never even touched you." A groan left you incoherently then, trying to remember that night and failing to do so with the heat of this moment you were in right now.

Had you? You couldn't remember anymore. Your mind was a wild scramble now as you were still trying to piece the words together to beg him for mercy. "So," he pulled away from your neck, leaning heavily on the one hand as he pulled out of you slowly. "You're," he slammed back inside of you, earning a gasp at the feeling of the shocks racing through you. "Gonna," another hard slam against your ass, hitting that spot with ease now. He knew without doubt he could make you do whatever he wanted so long as he hit that one specific place. "Do it," your aching cock jumped at the sensations, "Again." He slammed in and grinded against you, his length heavy inside of you as he rolled over that place that was about to send you spiraling into the white at the edge of your vision.

He slammed a few hard thrusts into your depths as he leaned closer again, you could feel the warmth of his chest this close to your back now. When his low, rumbling voice echoed beside your ear you were done for, "Cum. Now." One last thrust and you were painting the tiles in front of you as you went blind to the world around you. Feeling only the fast thrusts of his cock as it buried deep inside of you over and over again as you tried to catch your breath. Then he was grunting and pulling you back on him as he strained to get deeper while he spilled inside of you. "Fuck, so good, so tight, fuckin perfect you are," his forehead was pressed against your shoulder as he rutted into you soothing the aftershocks of his overstimulated member.

Neither of you spoke for several minutes, just standing there as you both came down from the feeling of pleasure rolling throughout the both of you. John seemed thoroughly spent behind you, his chest rising and falling against your back, and his beard scratching against your skin with every movement one of you made. You were in no better shape, staring down at your softening member and panting into the humid air. It wasn't until the ache in your thigh and shoulder had you shifting that you felt John's head lift.

Felt his eyes burning into the back of your neck and knew he was wondering why you were moving. "My shoulder,” you paused with a grimace before continuing, “I've gotta move it," immediately his hands opened and he let your wrists go. He moved them instead to your waist and wrapped around your front to hug you close to his sweat and water slicked body.

He was still pressing against your walls, buried deep inside of you but you could feel him softening now. It seemed he was just enjoying the feel of your skin on him again. You couldn't complain though, you were enjoying it just as much. He maneuvered the two of you around, refusing to let you go as he leaned back against the tiles now and let you lay back against him.

His chin rested on your left shoulder, mindful of the injuries you'd already suffered today. A soft murmur against your skin had you tilting your head though as you turned to glance at him with furrowed brows. Just about to ask what he'd said he repeated it without prompting, "Said I missed you." Oh.

Your chin tilted up just a bit, the corner of your mouth turning up in a hint of a smile. His hands pulled tighter around your waist, nearly squeezing the breath out of you now, "Thought you were going to die today. I didn't have a shot without risking shooting you too, none of us did. He'd have killed you if not for that dog." The brunette pressed his face into your neck again, and you reached a hand up to run over the back of his head. Soothing him the only way you knew how, with physical touch.

Your fingers played in the short brown locks, moving down to his temple and rubbing soothing circles into it. Listening to his quiet sigh at the release of tension you could feel through his whole body. Until finally you were cupping his cheek, fingers scratching along his meticulously cared for beard. You felt his hips grind against yours, his member still pressed deep inside of you and you shied away from it. Wincing at the feeling and shaking your head at the thought of going again, "No more, John.” He halted and you could feel his gaze burning you, “Not right now. Damn." You forced yourself not to move again, taking a second to steady yourself against him.

The worry in those blue eyes when he pulled your face back to his nearly had you melting at the sight. He was holding the both of you frozen in place now as he asked, "Are you ok? I didn't mean to hurt you," there he was. That was the John you remembered from back in the UK. Gentle and worrying and so dead set on pleasing you that you never would have guessed he had it in him to be so…dominant.

A slow nod did nothing to ease the worry though. He liked to hear it, wanted to hear you say it out loud so he knew you were telling the truth. "I'll be fine, just didn't expect it. Didn't expect you to be so rough," he was searching for that sincerity and when he found it you could see the smile on his face, even hidden behind that beard.

He pulled your face a bit closer as he leaned in, mouth just a hair's breadth away from yours. "What, you didn't like it?" Finally he closed the distance, lips pressing gently against yours. Pulling away you could still see that smirk as he asked, "Didn't like it when I treated you like a whore? Because you were definitely acting like one earlier today." His lips pressed against yours again and you felt the tease of his tongue against your lips, before he pulled back just a bit and growled out, "A right brat you've been all fuckin day." Another kiss, this one a bit more rough as he stole the breath from your lungs. As if he was trying to take you over so completely you had to rely on him for the very air you breathed.

It was you who broke away this time, letting your head fall back against his shoulder with a satisfied smirk, “Never said I didn’t like it. Just didn’t expect it.” His cheek rested against your shoulder then, breath playing across the skin of your neck in warm waves. It was impossible to move for either of you, well probably not for John but for you most definitely.

Time stood still for you, reveling in the attention you’d only ever received from him before. Finally he shifted behind you again, peppering light kisses to your face and muttering quick, “I’m sorrys” and “I knows”. You squirmed in his arms, trying to pull away, but he held you still with ease, finally pulling out of your depths and settling you against his body once more. After a few minutes you finally lifted your eyes to his again as he gave a little huff of amusement and whispered against your skin, “You need another shower I think. Good thing we’re still in here.”

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soaps-hoe-141 · 4 months ago

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Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨ <3

🏳️‍🌈 I love these, such violent affection 🏳️‍🌈

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writers on tumblr #call of duty #modern warfare

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soaps-hoe-141 · 4 months ago

Text

Drowning In The Depths

Part 3

Pairing: Price x Male!Reader

WC: 10k

Synopsis: Price and Speck fighting their gay demons

Warnings: lil hints of some spicy content but not much sorry guys

That voice. Good God on high that fucking voice. The stutter of your heart made your heaving chest stop instantaneously. Blood turned to ice in your veins and froze you to the concrete even in the raging heat you had plunged outside of the building into. Your thoughts, swimming in pain and adrenaline and him. So much of him. The countless nights that you would have done anything to hear that voice next to you, behind you. Growling in the way you knew it could right next to your ear. His voice telling you how good you were doing, how good you made him feel. You'd had dreams of that voice, and you knew all too well how it made your body react. It felt like your blood was being redirected and in a moment of fleeting panic you knew exactly where it was headed.

That is until you felt the cool barrel of the gun nudge against the back of your head again as he whispered, seeming to grow a bit impatient, "Tell the dog to stand down."

"Platz," Cerberus sank to the ground, eyes looking back and forth between the two of you and clearly confused about why he shouldn't be attacking the man pointing a gun at your head. But your mouth worked independently of your brain, betraying you when you needed them both to work together. Why had you obeyed so readily? You had your own weapon, a good arm and leg, not to mention a missile of a dog who would have done anything you asked. He was just one man, you could have taken him, you'd already taken more than your fair share today anyway.

It was him though. John. And fuck you barely even registered that he was saying more, more focused on the way he was saying it as he stepped closer, nearly flush with your back. "Good boy, Marine. Gun, now." His hand grabbed the arm that'd been shot to hell, your jaw clenching and a quiet curse falling from your mouth as his fingers dug into the muscle of your bicep. Still you obeyed, stop fucking listening to him, what the fuck were you? Had he trained your dumb ass or something, good Lord. His hands wrapped around the barrel, throwing the strap over his shoulder and you felt the gun smack against the hand he'd wrenched behind your back before he growled, "Walk." He pushed you forward then, his freehand holding the pistol at the small of your back as he moved you down the empty street forcefully.

Your eyes went wide looking around desperately for a moment before you muttered, "Cerberus. No, the dog, John, don't leave him. Please not him," the Dutch Shepherd was stuck to the ground where you'd left him. Chocolate eyes watching the two of you intently.

John paused and you felt him shift against your back to glance behind you both at the animal, seeming to decide whether Cerberus was going to live or die. You were tense, eyes on the dog you'd raised from puppyhood and straining against the arm pulled painfully behind your back. "He hurts anyone I'll kill him, you understand?" You nodded a quick affirmative and he leaned closer, breath sliding over the shell of your ear and making you shiver, "Use your words, Marine."

"Yes I understand, John. He won't do anything I don’t tell him to." It was instantaneous, a response so quick it was degrading how readily you obeyed him. This was bad, this was really fuckin bad. You were a shooter, you killed people faster than the best of the best, and here you were obeying an order from a man you had spent one night with even faster. Obeying him faster than fucking thought.

The man growled out then, "Bring him, hurry up." He turned you both slightly, the pistol in the small of your back pressing a bit harder as a reminder. Like you could forget that cool metal, doubtful.

You finally looked back at the dog still laying on the ground. When your eyes found him his head tilted, ears perked up, and tail wagging in anticipation to follow your commands. "Hier, Cerberus," he sprinted forward, chocolate eyes staring up at you with his tail going a mile a minute behind him. "Fuss," he raced around John's back pressing into your thigh on the right side and dragging out a light hiss of pain. The man behind you seemed to tense for a second, not sure what Cerberus was doing until he saw the dog stop at your side looking up at you with near reverence. You muttered, "Well John, thought we were going somewhere. Ain't got all day," a hard shove had a low groan escaping you, pain lancing up from where he was holding you around the forearm now and up through your bicep. This was turning into one hell of a terrible day.

You neared the corner of the apartment building, your eyes darting down the alley that you should have been in a few minutes before. That was supposed to have been your exit, but you'd decided Cerberus triggering on explosives so near the door wasn't worth the risk. Never should have even been going out the front door to begin with, you wished you'd never even gotten up out of bed earlier. An unfamiliar man pushed up from the wall, looking out of the alley at the both of you, smirking at you in particular like he'd done something sneaky and gotten away with it. "Hey Cap, can't believe that actually worked." When he neared Cerberus whined and laid down beside you, drawing your gaze down to him and then back to the newcomer.

John cleared his throat and the pistol at your back disappeared, "Can't believe you're that lucky, Gaz. Soap and Ghost missed him, you nearly messed up." Your brows drew together as you began to pick up on what had happened inside and why Cerberus hadn't alerted the second he reached the door. They'd tricked him, well you really. You should have known better, but with your head spinning on an adrenaline high and every thought just being of wanting to merely survive the day, you had let things get muddled. You'd fucked up. Damnit, so fuckin stupid should have just kept going consequences be damned. But that was the past, it couldn't be changed now. Three foot world, control what you can and forget everything else. You'd made your decision and now it was time to live with it, or die with it.

"Son of a gun," you muttered under your breath. The hand around your arm gripped tighter and you shot a glare at the man over your shoulder, wishing that his grip would loosen just a bit. Fuck everything was hurting so damn bad, you weren't going anywhere, you were helpless and at their whim, couldn't they just cut you some damn slack? "That wasn't even an insult, come on," you grimaced as he pushed you towards Gaz. You stumbled a bit, hissing at the pain in your thigh and the urge to fight back kicked in. Fist clenching you turned back towards John only to see the barrel of your Fennec aimed down at Cerberus. Again you froze, and muttered a curse under your breath before turning your gaze down to the dog, "Fuss Cerberus." He was by your side again in a second, and you turned an annoyed gaze back up at John, "What in the hell do yall even want? It illegal to go on vacation now or somethin? I'll tell you what, it's definitely illegal to kidnap someone."

The brunette huffed and shook his head ignoring you, apparently he had better things to do than argue with you. He turned when two more men came down the sidewalk, hiding their pistols at their back while you felt Gaz behind you grab your arm and press his pistol into your back, good Lord where did they think you were gonna go? To the fuckin airport? The white mask you'd seen earlier, that you now realized was a black balaclava with a white skull piece attached to the front, caught your attention then. It was the big man with his heavy British accent from the bar, one of John's teammates you'd forgotten about, damn. He stared at you for a moment, eyes narrowing behind the mask though whatever he was thinking remained hidden to you. The man with the Scottish accent looked at the dog with a frown, "I feckin hate dogs. Did you see what that blaigeard did?"

Oh no, don't do it, bad idea, but your brain, as you had already discovered, was completely disconnected from your mouth at this point. "Gib Laut," Cerberus answered immediately with a thundering bark from deep in his chest. His eyes looked up at you with his tongue lolling proud of himself, but your eyes were on the Scotsman who jumped back behind the masked man, putting the big man between him and your dog. The soft chuckle left you, amusement at seeing his reaction flooding your mind with an emotion you hadn't felt in a long time.

That is before something smacked into the back of your head with enough force that sparks were flashing behind your eyelids and pain was lancing through you. He had smacked your head with something hard, the head that had already been scrambled by two explosions and a flashbang in less than an hour. The head that currently could barely even remember Cerberus' commands without being subjected to a massive headache. You groaned, the already swimming thoughts going fuzzy as you stumbled forward, trying to shake away the fog to no avail. Your leg couldn't hold the weight though and you felt yourself falling. The hand around your forearm trying to stop your fall and failing miserably, only earning a grimace before you felt a pop in your shoulder and hit the ground with a hard thud. Your eyes blinked rapidly as you tried to focus, forehead pressing into the ground as you held back the sounds of pain your voice wanted to desperately let out.

The pain pulsed through your body with a vengeance after finally you had been stopped and forced to get off the high you'd been riding since that first bomb had gone off. Every ounce of adrenaline in your body had been burned up like a meteorite entering the atmosphere; it just couldn't finish the journey. There was nothing left for you to give, not anymore. Worried voices hit your ears but they were muffled, Cerberus' warm body pressed against your side earning a quiet, "Sitz," from you. Your good hand tried to push you up off the ground, face contorting as you fell back to the ground with a huff, unable to so much as move the other arm at this point. You barely kept your eyes open long enough to see feet moving in front of you before everything went black.

A scream ripped from your throat as the world came back to you so suddenly you felt like you'd been ripped from the womb of the earth itself. Your eyes snapped up to the man holding you still in the chair as best he could. He wasn't the source of pain though. The source was the Scotsman who was currently pulling your wrenched arm out while guiding the joint back into place. Your heart was racing and limbs shaking as you worked to keep yourself still as well. The joint finally slid back in and your pain was alleviated nearly instantly, washing over your burning mind like cool water. The feeling of relief made you go limp and fall back into the chair you were sitting in, head smacking against the masked man's stomach though you didn't feel anything now. You slipped back into mother earth's womb, blind to the world around you once more.

"I'm sorry Cap I didn't think he'd just pass out," the familiar voice sounded strained as if the man speaking was in pain. Fuck you sure hoped so, that little shit had smacked you over the head and dislocated your shoulder. He could fry in hell with your ex-wife for all you cared about him right now.

The voice you heard next though, he had your eyes opening slowly to look around for his face and wishing he was closer. He had abducted you and you were still aching for him, how stupid were you? "Bloody hell Gaz, you were the one the dog went after. Should have thought a little more before you hit him over the head. Maybe shoot the dog before you knock out the handler next time." Your chest tightened as you searched for the men, blinking away the fog in your eyes.

"Cerberus?" The voices in the other room went quiet, only serving to fuel your panic as you tried to stand. Your hands were tied behind your back and your legs were tied at the ankle. And then there he was, in all his brunette and blue eyed glory. Just standing in the doorway watching you with a cold stare that made your chest hurt even more. "John," you could see his lips purse when you said his name, his chin lifting almost like he was putting himself above your quiet words. "John, where's Cerberus?" His eyes narrowed at you as he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and closing the two of you inside the room. Alone.

His thumbs hooked into the straps of his tactical vest as he made his way over, mouth twitching under his overgrown beard. You remembered it being so meticulous, so well cared for, and yet now it looked like it had been neglected for quite some time. He stood a few feet in front of you, staring down at you, unblinking with those ocean blue hues. You were drowning and he was the one holding you under with a single look. "Who are you?" Your breath stayed stubbornly stuck in your lungs as you looked up at him.

You didn't know how to respond, should you answer truthfully or lie yet again. Maybe compromise? Truth, momma always said God don't like liars, "They call me Speck. Where is Cerberus?" He stared at you, was that not good enough? No one knew your real name anymore, that was why you could do what you did.

His head shook and you finally noticed that he was wearing a hat, it looked like the hat you used to steal from your Pawpaw before you went fishing all day so you didn't get sunburnt. Under any other circumstances you might have even smiled at it but not now. "Speck?" He obviously didn't get it, that was ok though, he didn't need to understand the nickname he just needed to let you go. "Why are you here Speck?" You stared at him rebelliously, refusing to answer seeing as he wasn't going to tell you where your dog was. For a moment you thought the two of you were just going to be stuck in this stalemate till he decided to use more forceful methods. But then his hips shifted and drew your eyes to them with a quiet catch in your breath. His feet spread and his stance widened, the low grumble of his voice vibrating the air between you, "He's in the other room. Why are you here?"

Your eyes shot to the door, staring at it for a few moments before you turned back to look up at him once more and answered, "Work." It was a simple reply that had so many complex offshoots.

It seems though that your answer did not satisfy his question this time, "What do you do for work?" Damn. Now how did he explain this one? Oh hey John I just tortured and killed twenty women and children over the past eight months. Yeah, yeah no worries though I did it for my job, I don't technically work for my country anymore but I don't not work for them. A chair slid across the floor as he took a seat in front of you and asked again, "What do you do for work?"

Muscles tensed as he leaned over the back of the chair, forearms draped over and eyes staring up at you through dark lashes. You couldn't focus, couldn't think, and certainly couldn't think straight. Your eyes slid the length of his bare forearms, tongue flicking out to wet your dry lips as you suddenly realized just how thirsty you were. Was that because of him? Probably. Could also be you hadn’t had any water in a while and it was well over 90 degrees in this fuckin desert. Your gaze slid lower, his thighs pressing against the sides of the chair. The missing back panel framing the prize you couldn’t help but imagine.

The burning gaze on your face wasn’t lost on you, to be quite honest it only served to make your cheeks burn even hotter and the tension to increase tenfold. Fantasies played in your head that you couldn’t seem to force down. Fuck you wished he’d force you down on his length again. No. Stop. Not now. He was literally interrogating you. What the actual shit was wrong with you? You needed to go to church again because obviously you’d forgotten what the good Lord had taught you. He tipped his head a bit closer, forcing your gaze up from his midsection and asked again, “What do you do for work, Speck?”

You were blanching at him, still unsure how to answer, at least unsure how to answer with a lie. Finally your clouded thoughts cleared enough to get out, “I serve my country, John.” You glanced down at the Union Jack velcroed onto his tactical vest and then added, “Just like you.” He scooted the chair a bit closer and narrowed his eyes at you, there was no way he could miss the way your eyes lingered on his mouth and on every bare patch of skin. You were hungry, starving, scraping the bottom of the barrel for any morsel or scrap you could get your eyes on and there was no way he couldn’t see it.

Blue eyes trapped your attention again, God those eyes were too blue. How did they get so blue? Were they that blue the last time you saw them or did they just look better now that you hadn’t seen them for so long. A brunette brow raised before he questioned you again, “What were you doing at the market?”

“What?” You couldn’t stop your own quick question, confusion written all over your face. He started to open his mouth again before you shook your head quickly, stopping him from repeating the question at you. “No, I heard what ya said John. I just don’t get how, for one, you knew I was at the market, and two, how that matters in the slightest.”

John’s head tilted before he leaned back, hands clasping in front of him while he watched you. “We saw you there, and we saw you talking to the old man not even a minute before someone blew him up. So either you killed him or someone tried to kill you, which is it Speck? Was the old man your target?” Your head was shaking before he even finished the question and before you could even attempt to verbalize an answer he asked, “So what were you at the market for then?”

Shit, shit, shit, how did you prove that you didn’t kill that old man? Thoughts floated in your mind as you sorted through them, putting the timeline together slowly. The paper, your target, the one you’d been given by the old man. That could prove it. You pulled your gaze away from those blue depths and turned your focus down to your thigh not currently coated in blood and answered, “My handler sent me. The old man was giving me a piece of paper,” you glanced up to find him leaning forward again, you’d caught his interest it seemed with that. “It’s uh, well it’s in my pocket John. So if you want it you best go fishin for it.” That cooled off his burning gaze, and you couldn’t help your chin lifting. If he wanted to know so badly then he could humble himself to figure it out.

The chair screeched against the floor making you cringe at the sound. He stepped forward, towering over you as your eyes ran up his body slowly until your head was tilting back with a smirk on your face. John had kept himself cold and calm for the most part, until right then when you caught him beginning to break. And when your smile widened it only got worse, he had to look away, glancing back at the door before he was retreating. “Hey! Where the hell are you goin?” He stopped for only a second finger raising like he was about to point it at you but instead he only gave you a cynical smile and shoved his way out of the door.

And so once again you were alone, listening to muffled voices outside and shifting uncomfortably in the chair. Your underwear was far too tight now, God almighty just make this nightmare end, please. You couldn’t stop the buck of your hips, trying to catch some of the friction from the fabric but there was none to be found. It was too loose, too thin. Teeth dragged across your bottom lip before you leaned forward, rocking in the chair and trying to soothe that ache by simply just not thinking about it.

What else was there to think about though? John? That certainly wasn’t going to help the situation. Just thinking that name was having the exact opposite effect you were in need of. Breathing, that’s a good thing to focus on. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Maybe think about how your shoulder was aching, and your fingers were starting to go numb at the bonds that were tied around your wrists. Just as you were starting to shift and trying to free yourself the door flew open. You froze and looked up, the man with the skull face was staring back at you. He ducked back out and there was a quiet whisper just outside before he came back around the doorframe and rumbled, “Fine.”

This one towered over you even more than John did, forcing you to sit up and lean back in the chair once again. His eyes ran over you just before stopping on your thigh and then he squatted beside you to reach into your pocket. The large, gloved hand disappeared into the folds of fabric and you watched, leg tensed so hard you were sure it was shaking with the strain. His eyes flicked up to yours as his hand searched and you felt him graze over an area he never should have. He sighed with a shake of his head, “Fuckin Americans.” Your brows furrowed at him, shaking your own head at that and trying to pull your leg away to which he just grabbed your knee with a strong hand to keep you still.

You merely gave him a shrug then when he turned his glare up at you. You kept watching him as he searched for the piece of paper in your pocket, “Not my fault you damned red coats tied my hands up.” The big man finally closed his fingers around the piece of paper and pulled his hand out of your pocket. It was flecked with a couple drops of your blood but that was all you got to see before he turned and inspected the paper with his back to you. He glanced sideways at you before flipping it over and then that was when the glaring started in earnest from him.

The big man held the piece of paper up to your face and you stared at the blank side, giving him a quick glance of question until he flipped it over. Both sides were blank. You looked completely taken aback at the sight, lips moving slowly like you were trying to say something but the words refused to come out. The masked man filled the silence for you, “Why’s it blank?” Your gaze flicked up to him as disbelief coursed through you.

And then your rage began to boil. Your jaw tensed as your gaze fixed on the far wall of the room and you tried to breathe it out, but there was no stopping this freight train, not now. Now you could start to put all the pieces together, the puzzle was becoming clearer now. “That goddamn rat. I’m gonna castrate that little shit,” you were straining in earnest against the bindings now. The bite of the zip ties helped to keep the rage from consuming you, only barely though. “Son of a bitch!” The curses were rolling off your tongue faster than your mind could process and becoming more and more colorful and descriptive the longer you went. “Gonna put a hot fuckin poker under his feet and watch him squirm that, fucker!”

Eyes burned your skin as you kept rocking in the chair, the ties digging deeper and deeper into your skin. You shot your gaze back up at him and growled out, “You wanna know why that piece of paper you got is blank you big bitch? It’s because I’m the stupidest motherfucker on this planet.” His eyes narrowed at you before you just kept going, “Happens once shame on you, happens twice? Fuck me sideways cause I got the good sense God gave a fuckin carrot.” He was watching you with what was almost amusement, that was all you could categorize it as anyway.

John’s face in the doorway caught your attention but it did nothing to soothe the rage boiling over. “Bloody hell did you do Ghost?” He asked the big man who just shook his head and handed off the piece of paper to the other brit’s outstretched hand.

Ghost shrugged as he turned back towards the door, “Just have that effect on people I guess, Captain.” The Captain in mention was looking over the blank piece of paper, confusion written on his face just as yours had been moments ago. When John turned to question him further about it though Ghost was long gone, the door already shut.

Instead his attention turned back to you and threw the paper down on your thighs which were straining in the fabric as you still fought to get yourself loose. “Explain.” You shot a glare at him, partially blaming him for all this mess. Especially since it was him that had been distracting you for eight months now to the apparent attempts on your life. He didn’t seem to care though as his hand wrapped around your jaw and pulled your face down, level with his, and he leaned over until he was only a couple inches from your face, “Now Speck.”

Your mouth went dry nearly immediately as you took in a quick breath, eyes shooting down to his mouth when he spoke. You swallowed hard but nothing went down, damn how could you be frustrated and angry and he still somehow makes heat and blood flood your system without so much as a complete sentence? When the hand around your jaw tightened you finally managed to croak out, “They hung me out to dry…again.” There was a dangerous tilt to his head, the question there even without him having to ask it aloud. “They sent me to the market to die, John. Their timing is just absolute ass though.” His fingers fell away from your jaw and he grabbed the chair, sitting in it the right way this time, facing you with a dangerous look in his eyes.

He leaned forward in the seat and his elbows rested on his knees. His gloved hands clasped together in front of him and he looked across the empty space between you before giving you a nod, “I’m listening. Tell me what happened.” You gave him a look of uncertainty, he’d been nothing but cold to you since he’d pressed that gun to the back of your head. Why should you give him even more information to potentially hurt you with? Then again did you really have much choice? You were sitting in a chair with your hands and feet zip tied together to keep you from making a break for it. There wasn’t much room for what you really wanted right now it would seem.

A sigh left you as you sat up in the chair a bit. You hadn’t even noticed the rage boiling your blood had dissipated, damn if he wasn’t a magician. This man should be tried for witchcraft honestly. This had to be some voodoo spell he’d put on you. Blue hues watched you closely, nearly losing his patience as you collected yourself and finally answered, “Well since they tried to have me killed I figure, just fuck em, you know? So with that being said, I worked for a private american contractor. I do, or did, things that no one else would.”

There was a quiet pause as you tried to decide where to start and finally sighed and kept going, “This particular hunt started over the border in Afghanistan but I’ve been in Iran for a couple months now. Cerberus and I, we work alone. I don’t work with other people,” you looked away for a quick moment before adding, “Not anymore. They’re too messy,” John gave you a quick nod of understanding, still watching and listening intently. “We were supposed to be tracking this bombmaker down, him and his organization. But we couldn’t get to the people themselves so we took an alternative route, not exactly something I’m proud of.”

The brunette’s brows furrowed and he stopped you, “You’re the one that killed his second’s son a few months ago? And took the rest of their wives too?” You nodded slowly, eyes falling to the ground for a moment, you didn’t like to think of what you’d done to those kids and women. He cleared his throat to catch your attention again, bringing your gaze back up to finally settle back on him, “Keep going.”

You nodded slowly and shifted in the chair again, “My handler called me just before noon, told me to be at the market to get my next target location. That’s why I was there, that’s what the paper was supposed to be for. The old man gave it to me, and I can’t tell you all that much about him but I can tell you that when he did give it to me there weren't any explosives on him.” John gave you a look like he was about to question as to how you knew that before you clarified, “Cerberus would have alerted to it and when we were standing right beside him he was completely calm. No alert of any kind.” The blue eyes narrowed at that before he glanced towards the door, seeming to think about something before he nodded slowly and turned back to look at you.

A nod indicated you should keep going and so you did, “Some time between the handoff and me taking my smoke break Cerberus alerted. I missed it, I was…distracted.” There was a question in his eyes that you were not about to answer so instead you pushed onward in your explanation. “I was hurt in the blast so I slipped out of the market and down an alley. But there was a local guard that caught me back there before I could get out. He shot me, that’s where the bullets in my arm came from. I killed him, and got the fuck out of there and back to my apartment.”

John nodded interrupting you again, “Yeah Ghost followed you back there, while we looked around the market. What about the second bomb then? It didn't go off anywhere around you. You think that one was still meant for you?" He leaned back in the chair, his eyes watching every move you made.

You in turn were staring at the wall just behind him, trying not to look at the unkempt beard and his boonie hat that was making your heart skip. "Yeah I do, but it wasn't there when we came through the first time. Cerberus no alerty," you were playing off your pent up frustration as an attitude which to be fair you've always had enough of. The Captain though didn't seem to appreciate it very much as he gave you a cold glare. It drew out a sigh as you shifted in the chair and shrugged, "Man I don't know what you want from me. Cerberus didn't alert until just before the bomb went off with the old man. I don't know who planted the explosives." You paused for a moment to think and then continued, "I do know that my boss sent me in there to die. How long he's been trying to kill me exactly I've got no clue, but I do know that he refused to evac me, which is why Cerberus and I were making a break for it when you found us. Or those other guys I guess. Who were those guys? Were they with you?"

John held you with an even gaze, one you were unable to hold yourself and instead looked down at your pants still soaked with blood. Finally he answered, "No, they weren't with me." Well at least you hadn't killed his men then, this could have been so much worse if you had. You felt his eyes on you still, judging you, deciding on something. The attention made you shift in the chair uncomfortably again. He was too close, too here, too real, but certainly not as close as your body wanted him. God you wanted him, you'd have given the devil your soul just to have him right then and there. Your eyes shot up to his form when he crossed his arms over his chest, turning in the chair to yell at the door, "Ghost! Bring the dog in here!"

It took a few seconds before the door opened and the familiar black and brindled face came flying into the room. They had muzzled him, a sight that made your heart ache, and he was straining at a rope they'd put on him as a makeshift lead. The dog was whining as he tried to free himself from Ghost's strong grip doing no more than annoying the big man it seemed. So when that didn't work he was growling, trying to surge towards you, and then sending another growl up at the man.

"Pfui!" The dog gave another low whine at the command, circling in place once and beginning to pace at the end of the lead but at least he wasn't pulling at it anymore. Your eyes flicked up to the big man who was watching you from the door, and then over to John. Those cool blue hues were fixed on you, Cerberus' whining filling your aching head and beginning to overwhelm you before you finally snapped at him, "Sitz, Cerberus! Bleib!" The dog sat immediately, eyes still on you while you were still staring at John.

It wasn't even a moment after you issued the command that John said, "Drop the rope, Ghost. You can leave," the big man glanced at the Captain, it seemed his men weren't as well trained as Cerberus was. He was hesitating to follow the order, sure the dog was muzzled but the damn thing was a surface to man missile and his teeth weren't the only things that could hurt. But when John's eyes turned back to fix him with a hard look Ghost let the rope go and disappeared out the door again. The ocean depths returned to you again, watching you with a hard stare before he leaned forward, "We want the head of the bombing operation. Do you know where he is?"

Well that was an unexpected turn of events. Your brows furrowed as you thought about it, mulling over the question in your mind before finally you answered, "Not at the moment. But I can find out. The old man wasn't the only contact I have here." John seemed to still be making a decision, considering all the options that were laid bare before him. Damn if you didn't wish it was you laid bare before him. A pulse of desire rushed through you and straight down where you'd been trying to avoid thinking about.

Just barely you contained the urge to shift your hips again, do not try to fuck the air with witnesses you dumb ass. It wasn't until John stood from the chair, the blade of a knife flipping out towards you that you actually got that urge under control. He disappeared behind you, and you caught Cerberus watching him as well. The dog didn't seem the least bit concerned though about what he was doing, that was good at least. And then, you felt the cool metal against your wrist and the plastic ties that had been biting deep into your wrists fell off with a quick flick of the knife.

You sighed at the relief, arms coming back around the chair as you held the right bicep in a protective grip. Fingers prodding at the sore joint of your shoulder and the inflamed muscle that covered it as if poking it would make the pain go away. It did in fact make it worse. The wounds were still bandaged in your makeshift duct tape bindings but they were all soaked through and needed to be replaced and cleaned properly.

John came back around so you could see him again, watching intently as he kneeled in front of you and cut through the ties around your ankles. His blue hues shifted up to your eyes, capturing you with his gaze. Calloused fingers grazed over your ankle as he pulled the tie off and you had to force your gaze away else you'd have been on him in a second. He was so close you could feel his body heat even through the layers of clothes you were both wearing.

Every sense felt flooded with stimuli, bringing that feeling of lightheadedness back like it had earlier. You just wanted to reach out and touch him. Your hands were free now, you could do it. It'd be so easy and it would feel so nice. Maybe just do it to feel his face against your hands again. His face and the prickly hairs of his beard that were just begging to be touched by you specifically. You could feel the burn on your skin even without it actually being there. It'd taken weeks for that feeling to go away on your actual skin and still you felt it in your dreams, even so recently as a couple nights ago.

The sound of the knife closing brought your eyes back to him, to the ocean hues that were trying to drown you. He was still kneeling in front of you with an expectant look on his face. God just say something, please say anything right now, but your mouth was empty of words. Not even so much as a sound could make it out of your throat. Something flashed in his eyes, but you had no idea what it might be. You were so out of touch with your own emotions it was a foreign language you didn't have the slightest bit of fluency in. His low rumble vibrated in his chest, "Find him for me, Speck. Find the man and then you can go do whatever the hell you want, yeah?" Stunned, that's all you could feel. You were stunned into silence by the request until one of his brows lifted.

That pulled you out of your head before you nodded, "Alright, sounds good to me Army." John kept watching you for a moment, his face unreadable at least to you. Without saying a word he stood back up, taking a couple steps back and hooking his thumbs back into the straps of his vest.

His head turned as he found the dog, still sitting where you'd told him to and then he was back on you. "Come on then, I don't have all day and your," his eyes narrowed at your arm and thigh before he continued, "bandages need to be changed. Not exactly bandages though, are they?" You let out a laugh at that, he could say that again.

You nodded quickly before turning your attention to Cerberus who was about to come unglued from where he was sitting. "Hier," he shot off from his spot barreling towards you. He hit you like an eighteen wheeler, smacking into your chest and tipping the chair you'd been sitting in over with you in it. "Oh shit!" You tried to push him off but he was shaking with excitement, his tongue pressing through the holes of the muzzle and catching every bit of you it could reach.

"Nein! Pfui! Platz!" You were yelling the commands until he finally backed off and you pushed his face away from you despite his whines of protest. "Back the hell off Cerberus, what the fuck?" You lifted your good hand to wipe your face off before pushing yourself up to an elbow, "Seriously?" He was laying down now, inching closer to you with his tail whipping up debris behind him. "Not cool buddy," your head shook at him but you couldn't deny the little smile on your mouth. It felt good to be loved by something in this world at least.

When you pushed yourself up to where you were sitting and pulled your leg off of the chair with a wince John was still watching, his face as unreadable as it had been this entire time. The dog at your side stood when you tried to push yourself up, unsuccessfully. Your eyes shot to the Brit, not certain you really wanted to humble yourself to ask for help. Especially when he didn't look like he was about to offer it.

Instead you braced a hand on the Dutch Shepherd's back and pushed yourself back to your feet, using him as a kind of crutch. Your good hand reached to the strap of the muzzle and pulled it loose along with the rope they'd been using to control him. You tossed both onto the chair with repulsion etched plainly into your face, the big Dutchie had never been outfitted with a muzzle before and you despised the look of it on him.

With one hand on his collar and him bracing against your side while his eyes were staring up at you like they almost always did, you made your way to the door. John gave a single nod before backing up and pushing it open, and then he disappeared to the other side. Stepping through the doorway you took in their little makeshift ops center, casting a quick glance at your surroundings and the plain walls. A few computers were set up in the center along with a landline phone. Now wasn’t that kind of old school, but it also just so happened to be the safest form of communication in case anyone tried to hack them.

There were a few chairs scattered around the middle like someone had been playing musical chairs not too long ago. There was a man curled up in the far corner, back to all the noise as he caught some shut eye. Ghost was sitting on one of the tables, sharpening a knife with a disassembled MCPR-300 laid out behind him along with its cleaning kit. He gave you a momentary glance but spared you little attention after that. Gaz was the one who was staring you, well more like Cerberus, down with a hard glare. His arm was wrapped up to his elbow with bandages and it wasn't that hard to figure out why.

Not a good idea to settle your attention there though, you hadn't exactly made a good impression on these men so far. You'd nearly shot one of them in the face, you'd had Cerberus scare one of them nearly out of his shoes, another had been attacked by the big Dutch Shepherd, and you'd left the only one you really cared about sleeping in his bed to wake up not knowing where you'd even gone. First impressions were definitely not your strong suit with these guys it would seem. When he cleared his throat beside you, your eyes shot back over to John. He glanced at the picture he was currently holding up to show you. It was the man you had been hunting for eight months now all throughout the middle east. Your eyes returned to his and he asked, "Where's he at then?"

It took you a second to answer before you shrugged and shook your head, "No clue." There was a clatter of metal off to the side, probably Ghost dropping his knife. Apparently he wasn't happy with your answer but you held up a finger and pointed to a picture hanging up behind him, "But I know where she is. Or where I left her and her three daughters." John turned around to look at the picture before returning a hard glare at you, "You think he was just trying to kill me for shits and giggles? I had his wife and his daughters for a week. Left them with a…friend? Nah I don't have any friends, a colleague. Yeah, I left them with a colleague."

You stepped closer and put a hand on your upper arm and glanced across the empty space at it, "Help me with this and I'll serve them up to you on a silver fuckin platter. Might even add some fixins you ask me real nice," John eyed you carefully, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and you reveled in the attention. Is this how he felt every time he caught you staring at places you shouldn’t have been? Warmth shot through you as he glanced at something behind you.

Turning to follow his gaze you caught sight of the big man who let out a huff and stepped around you and the dog heading towards the man sleeping off in the corner. He shoved a boot into his ribs earning a glare and a growled, “What the fuck are ye doin?” Ghost gestured with a jerk of his head in your direction and the Scot rolled over, blinking at you and the dog before he let out a sigh and rubbed his face. It took him a few moments to really wake himself up but he finally reached a hand up to Ghost who pulled him to his feet. You heard some quiet words pass between them but couldn’t hear what they were talking about.

They didn’t speak in their quiet whispers for long though before the Scotsman grumbled, “Aye I get it Lt.” The shorter man slipped around the other and started towards you, eyes flicking down towards the dog. Azure blue eyes flicked back up to you before he asked, “No leash?” He was clearly uncomfortable with Cerberus, especially after having watched the big dog nearly taking Gaz’s arm off.

Your head shook as you answered, “No leash. I’ll tell ya what though,” you glanced around to a desk free of clutter and took a couple steps towards it still leaning on the big Dutchie. “Hopp,” Cerberus jumped up on the desk, turning back to look at you with his head tilted and mouth open as he panted. “Platz,” the dog laid down and you ran a hand over his head before leaning down to press your forehead against his, eyes shutting as you did.

It was the first time you had a chance to really think about the fact that you’d almost lost him. The one thing in life that had been keeping you going since you’d lost everything else. And hell he’d very nearly lost you too. He needed the attention and reassurance just as much as you did, it’d been a rough day for the both of you to say the least. Finally, your hand dropped from under his jaw and you muttered, “Bleib,” watching his head fall to his paws in answer.

When you turned back around John was staring, it didn’t matter about what all the others were doing because he was looking so unashamedly at where your ass had been a moment ago and he didn’t even stop or try to hide it. Because now he was staring at the front of your pants with just the slightest wrinkle between his brows. Your blood was still coating where your thigh had gushed blood all over the light fabric however long ago that had been. Why did he have to stare like that? You couldn’t even focus on the fact your arm was hurting because he just wouldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until a hand waved in front of your face that you blinked a couple times and turned your eyes down to the Scotsman. When your brows furrowed in question he repeated himself, “I told you to take a seat.” He jerked his chin to the empty chair just in front of the desk, watching as you lowered yourself slowly into the chair. “You can call me Soap by the way,” he sat a bag on the ground beside you before he unzipped it, pulling some of the medical supplies inside of it out.

You reached a hand behind you, pulling at the collar of your shirt to pull it off over your head. Letting it fall to the ground between your feet as you sat back again. For a second you weren’t sure whether you should answer him or just stay quiet but you decided on the former with a quick, “Name’s Speck. Nice to meet you, Soap.” He gave a grunt of agreement, his eyes turning up to watch Ghost pass by.

He pulled gloves on before he took a pair of scissors to your makeshift bandages. As he pulled the first one off you gave a small grimace. Soap’s eyes shot up to the dog behind you before a quiet whine left the big Shepherd. A quick glance over your shoulder with an added smile had Cerberus settling his head back on his paws. “That’s so weird,” your brow raised at the comment, watching him clean the wounds. He clarified what he meant quickly though, not shying away from the chance to talk in the slightest, “The dog I mean. It’s like he knows what you’re thinking even when he can’t see your face. It’s weird.”

A smirk found your mouth at that, before you shrugged the shoulder he wasn’t currently cleaning, “He kind of does actually.” The Scotsman stopped, throwing the pad he’d been using to wipe the blood off onto the desk and grab a roll of the bandages. When he shot a questioning look up at you your smirk only widened. “He’s trained to read body language and situations. Knows when someone means to harm and when they mean to help. Don’t worry, he’s seen someone piecing me back together before. You aren’t the first and I doubt you’ll be the last.” Soap huffed at that, shaking his head as he wrapped up the bullet wound in your bicep before he taped it off and moved down to the wound in your forearm.

The Scotsman didn’t take long to clean that wound either, working quietly and with narrowed eyes. When he finished, his eyes traveled down to your thigh before returning to your face. “Please tell me you’ve got underwear on under there.” That drew eyes from around the room and you reached a hand to the bridge of your nose, pinching it for a moment.

Finally you answered, “Yeah, yeah I’ve got underwear on. You ever try running commando Soap? Let me tell ya, that shit’ll hurt worse than the damn bullets do by nightfall. Trust me,” dark brows lifted at the comment and you undid the buttons of the pants before lifting up just enough to push the pants down. Most of the eyes had fallen away by that point. Not wanting to watch as you shuffled them down your thighs to reveal yet another makeshift duct tape bandage.

When he took the scissors in his hand you grabbed his wrist before he could slide the blade into the wrapping and shook your head, “Yeah, maybe don’t do that. I uh, I kind of stapled it together. I’d rather you didn’t catch one of them with those scissors.” He glanced down at your thigh and then back up at you before nodding slowly.

He tossed the scissors back up onto the desk and shrugged, “How do you plan on taking it off then?” You eyed the bloody bandage and then moved to pick at the edge of the tape, unwrapping it quickly, just as fast as you had put it on. Throwing it on the desk with the rest of the bloody pieces of fabric you leaned back again in the chair. Soap nodded slowly, “Works for me,” he muttered before he inspected the dried blood and the staples you’d put in your leg.

Looking up you caught John’s gaze staring at the bare flesh you’d now exposed. Your chest, torso, and thighs were out for everyone to see and the Brit certainly seemed to be getting his eyeful. Gaz tossed something his way across the table they were standing around and he just barely managed to catch it. A hand grabbing at his beard and running over his mouth, not realizing you’d caught him staring.

The alcohol pad Soap was using ran over the wound and the staples, drawing your attention back to him as he asked, “The bloody hell did you use, a staple gun?” Your nonchalant nod had him smirking, “Kinda badass Speck.” He pulled out a needle and some medical sutures, opening and closing his fists a couple times to steady his hands. Ghost, who you hadn’t even realized was paying attention, slid a chair over for Soap to sit in. The Scotsman shot him a beaming smile and a quick, “Thanks,” before he sat down and scooted the chair closer so he was leaning over your thigh as he threaded the needle.

You didn’t even feel the needle as it slid into your skin around the staples you’d put in earlier. He was surprisingly quick and you got the feeling he was the one who typically did this for the team. Their unofficial medic as it were. It wasn’t until he pulled the first staple out that you even paid attention to him again. Flinching away instinctively until you realized what he was doing. Your nose scrunched up at the pain but otherwise you didn’t react, just watching passively, almost looking bored at what he was doing.

He was wrapping it back up with a bandage when John leaned back against the table in front of you with his arms crossed. His eyes didn't wander down anymore, he seemed to have gotten himself under control after his little slip earlier. Still though, you had seen him looking, the oceans covering the flesh you’d bared for Soap. When his eyes had been glued to every inch of skin they could get to. The low rumble of his voice reached your ears then as he said, "So where did you leave his wife and kids?" He almost seemed impatient now, as if he was certain you were wasting his time and dragging him around in circles for you to merely up and vanish again.

No, you weren't wasting his time, you were merely ensuring your own survival by making yourself useful, necessary. And you certainly didn't appreciate being seen as a dishonorable man, you were a man of your word and you fully intended to keep it. You'd told him you'd give him the family and now it felt like he didn't even trust you for that much. Your eyes shot to a map behind him before you finally answered, "I left them with my colleague about an hour over the Pakistani border.”

His brunette brows raised at that, watching as he leaned forward a bit about to ask for coordinates you assumed until you continued, “You'll need me to get them though. The person I left them with doesn't speak English and they don't trust strangers neither." Blue hues narrowed at you. You were testing his patience now and you knew it. Damn though if it wasn’t fun to see him try to think of a way to be done with you only for you to keep yourself irrevocably relevant.

Ghost slid up beside Soap, catching the Scotsman’s attention as he stared silently for a few awkward moments. The big man was, funny enough, the one to break the silence though, sliding a knife in one of many sheathes attached to his body before he asked, "Can we use cars to get there?" Your head shook in a simplistic answer and he turned again with a little grumble. His hand moved to his chest as he muttered a few clipped words into the radio attached to his vest.

John sighed and glanced down to where Soap's fingers were taping the bandage on finally. His warm hands brushing against your bare skin though even he didn’t seem to notice, but John did. And rather than casting a glare at the perpetrator he was sending one right at you, as if you could control what Soap did with his hands. The Scotsman turned to glance up at his Captain with that beaming smile that put you a bit off kilter, he was almost too happy and to be honest it made your whole body tense like an allergic reaction to happiness. His thick accent rolled off his tongue with a quick, "All done Price," as he stood up and patted you on the shoulder.

Hold up. Wait a minute. Wait a goddamn minute. Price. Captain. John. Son of a bitch. Captain John Price. Only you would unknowingly fuck John Price. The last time you'd heard of him he'd been a Lieutenant and still worked directly under the British Royal Army. You'd heard talk that he'd split with the army, and formed some kind of Task Force to deal with…problems, but you’d never heard anything concrete on the situation there.

Realization made your stomach drop as you feared that maybe that was why he was here. Could you have fallen into that category now? You had been causing plenty of issues throughout the Middle East that much was for sure. It was certainly a possibility. The thought made you shift uncomfortably in the chair, glancing around with a nervous look at your surroundings again as if someone was about to shoot you right through the head cause you had finally realized. Cerberus whined behind you, sensing your nervousness and two sets of eyes turned to look at you like you'd interrupted a conversation. Maybe you had, you were too in your own head to realize at that very moment what they were doing.

Get your head on right Speck, they were your only ticket out of here as of right now and you had no intention of dying in a fuckin desert. The Captain took in a quick breath and said quickly before he stood up from the desk he’d been leaning back on, "Gear up Soap. We'll be leaving soon." He took a few steps towards a set of monitors you couldn’t see, and then turned a gaze at you and ordered, "Speck get a change of clothes, you look like a bad special effects prop. You’re going to strap for the next mission."

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