#line of duty fic

[stinglesswasp]

Fanart of all that's said in the low light by headlocket

This fic will make you cry the most cathartic tears ever. Be sure to also check out the epilogue, in lieu of the bells 🥹🧡🧡

[roosterforme]

In the Line of Duty | Rooster x Reader

Summary: During preparations for a dangerous mission, Bradley finds comfort in writing his thoughts down for his unborn child to eventually read. There's always a chance that he won't make it back, and his final plans involve safeguarding the most important item he brought on his deployment with him.

Warnings: Angst, deployment, pregnancy topics

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was in the same tiny room with the same seven people for the nineteenth day in a row. He was sweating, too aware of his surroundings. He could hear Reuben breathing next to him. He could hear Admiral Turner's wristwatch counting off every second. He could hear the plans being laid out, but he could barely focus on them.

"The political climate is rapidly changing," the admiral said. "This bombing run is essential, however it will undoubtedly lead to a hostile environment for our allies. Getting the timing just right is essential to a successful mission."

He'd been telling the aviators the same things for days, and while Bradley knew somebody's best interest was at heart, he wasn't really sure it was his. Or Reuben's. Or anybody's in this fucking claustrophobic room. But what choice did he have but to sit here in his flight suit, reeking of jet fuel until he was released?

"Also," Admiral Turner said, his voice laced with exhaustion, "we'll be keeping a close watch on the weather. If you fly this mission, it's going to be a rough takeoff and an even rougher landing. And that's not even mentioning the elements you'll encounter in the air."

Bradley could feel it. The aircraft carrier was a massive vessel, nothing like a cruise ship or anything smaller. It was built to withstand typhoons and hurricanes, but he could still feel it. The movement was getting worse by the hour now. There were deckhands and petty officers walking around with seasickness bags. People were running from the mess hall left and right. The only thing that could be said of this small group of aviators in this tiny ass room was that professional fighter pilots had all traces of motion sickness eliminated from their bodies during flight training, never to be heard from again. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he could still feel it.

"And with that final precaution, I've made my selection for the three pilots who will fly when I say it's time to go." Bradley knew it in his bones even before he heard the admiral say, "Vandal. Patches. Rooster. Everyone else will remain on standby. You're all dismissed."

As he stood, Reuben stuck his fist out. "Congrats, man," he said, and Bradley reached out as well to bump fists. Being chosen was an accomplishment; Bradley always wanted to be chosen. He always wanted to perform to the best of his ability. But his thoughts were so heavy now, filled with new hopes and fears. 

"Thanks, Payback," he replied, following his friend from the room and into the noisy reprieve of the cool hallway. There were people rushing around as the two of them made their way to the mess hall. "But if I have to sit in that room for another day, I'm going to lose my mind."

Reuben laughed as he started to load a tray with food. "I love how the weather is too bad for us to do any training runs, but in the same sentence, we're told to be ready to fly a mission in this. It's like they're steering us right into the worst of the storm."

They were. Bradley could tell they were. There was something strategic about the open water location, but they were absolutely heading into the worst of it. He just hoped it would clear up before he was called out on deck to fly. 

"It's a good thing I haven't barfed in a Super Hornet since that very first time," he said, also piling food that he knew would taste like cardboard onto a plate.

"This shit sucks," Reuben muttered, biting into a roll once they reached an empty table. "We got any more of your wife's cookies back in the bunk?"

Bradley smiled as he looked at the questionable meal in front of him. "A few." He bit into the steak and grimaced. Everything you cooked at home was better than this. He'd trade his whole plate of food right now for half of a grilled cheese sandwich made by your hands. Just thinking about it had his stomach growling louder. "You already ate most of them."

Reuben popped another roll into his mouth and chewed it up before saying, "Rooster, you've got a hot lieutenant commander who can cook for a wife. And a baby on the way. Come on, man. The least you can do is spare some more of those cookies."

Once he let his thoughts drift, Bradley knew it would take hours to get focused on his job again, but he couldn't help it. When he left home, you looked the same as you always did. You'd been complaining about your weight gain and bloating for weeks, but you looked just perfect to him. He wanted to get back home to see if you had a bump yet. He wanted to get home and talk to the Nugget. But he'd already been gone for three weeks, and he hadn't been given a single chance to call or FaceTime with you. 

He hated having no idea how your most recent doctor's appointment went. There were probably new ultrasound photos sitting right on the kitchen counter, but it could be weeks before he got to see how much the Nugget grew since last time. He should be a home, catering to your every whim and building the massive jungle gym for the backyard.

"Are you excited?" Reuben asked, breaking through his thoughts. "You've got what, like five more months to go before you're a dad?"

"One hundred and eighty-six days until the due date," Bradley replied with a grin. "And yeah, I'm pretty fucking excited. It's all I can think about." He tried to finish all of the food, but he set his plate aside and said, "Let's go eat some of those cookies."

An hour later, Bradley was sitting in his bunk, nibbling on the rationed baked goods while Reuben snored across the room. He took this opportunity to get out the pink and blue striped notebook which he affectionately referred to as the Nugget notebook. He'd filled half of it with his musings, and he figured it would be full by your due date. It was silly, just his random thoughts and some sporadic story telling, but he liked the idea of his kid having all of this to look at later. He uncapped his pen, jotted down the date, and started writing what was on his mind. 

You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about....

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

The weather was so bad a few days later that the gym was closed. Bradley and Reuben stood in front of the locked door in their gym clothes looking at each other. 

"This is fucking wild," Bradley muttered, deprived of the only activity he could think of to keep himself busy. The hallways were pretty empty at this time of night, but everything still felt more deserted than usual. The dining menus had been pared down, presumably because half of the kitchen staff was too seasick to make everything. He was starting to feel anxious. "Let's go workout in the bunk and then finish the cookies."

"Sounds good," Reuben replied. They took turns churning out sets of fifty push ups while the other ate a cookie. They did this until they were both sweating and all of the cookies were officially gone.

"Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Bradley asked, but any response was cut off by a knocking on the door. He jumped up, glanced at Reuben, and then opened the door for a petty officer. 

"Bradshaw?"

"Yeah?"

"You requested a FaceTime call? Report to the lounge in thirty minutes."

"Thanks," he said, heart beating wildly as he closed the door. He rushed around the room, grinning and grabbing everything he'd need to take a quick shower.

Reuben just laughed and said, "Please thank her again for the cookies."

"Will do," Bradley replied, making a mad dash for the showers. If he did the math correctly, he figured it was between four and five o'clock in the morning back home in San Diego. He hated calling you in the middle of the night, especially when you were pregnant and exhausted, but he knew you'd forgive him. And he desperately needed to see your face and hear your voice.

His hair was still damp when he jogged along the quiet corridors toward the lounge and took a seat in front of one of the computers. He quickly entered his credentials followed by your phone number, and then he waited and waited. "Shit," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table, afraid the call was going to ring through and then cut off. But then he heard you screech his name and saw you as you reached for your glasses while the light from the lamp on your nightstand illuminated your face. 

"Bradley!" you practically screamed again, your voice scratchy from sleep. "Roo! Are you okay?"

"Hey, Baby Girl," he said, feeling calmer than he had in weeks as you juggled your phone around and tried to sit up fully in bed. "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."

"No, no, no, this is perfect!" you insisted, rubbing your eye behind your glasses as you tried to stifle a yawn. "This is great."

Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."

"Me too," you insisted, and he could see the sincerity on your face. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are."

He wanted to kiss you. He wished he could somehow dive through the screen and end up next to you where you'd pull him right into your arms. His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."

Your smile was soft, and you bit your lip. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his rough hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"

You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."

The fact that he knew that's where they would be made him smile. When you propped your phone up next to the stove and turned on the light, he felt tears stinging his eyes. You held up one of the photos so he could see the baby, and he had to blink past his blurry vision. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."

Your laughter sounded beautiful as you showed him a third one. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."

You pulled the baby picture away, and he could see your face again as you said, "You're probably not even joking."

"I'm definitely not even joking."

You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you said, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."

Now Bradley felt like crying for a totally different reason. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."

"Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."

Bradley looked at your beautiful face and the perfect curve of your cheek. He imagined a little baby in your arms with the same flawless features. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."

Your smile was brilliant as you told him, "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."

Bradley opened his mouth to say he couldn't wait to come home and spend a full day curled up with both of you. He was about to ask you to pull his UVA shirt up and let him see what your belly looked like now. But the lounge door swung open so hard, it sounded like it was going to fall off the hinges.

"Bradshaw!" barked Admiral Turner. "It's time. Get into your flight suit."

"Yes, Sir," he said before glancing back down to see your face as you started to cry.

"You have to go," you sobbed.

"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."

"I'll be home soon," he promised, even though he knew he couldn't guarantee anything of the sort. "I love you."

After he ended the call, he ran back to the bunk where Reuben was already in his flight suit and pulling on his boots. It was late enough now that it had to be dark outside, so he was either about to fly another mission without the use of one of his senses, or they were sending him out at first light. Either way, he knew what he had to do, so he pulled his own flight suit on with shaky hands.

The call with you had calmed his nerves right up until the point when he had to abruptly end it. What he wouldn't give to be back home within a week. He'd drive you to the appointment in his Bronco and hold your hand the whole time. Dr. Morris would let you know if he was going to be the dad to a daughter or a son. His little Nugget.

"You ready?" Reuben asked as Bradley finished lacing up his boots. 

He looked up at his friend as he stood. "Actually, no," he said, pulling his duffle out from under his bed. He started rooting through it as he said, "I need you to potentially do me a favor."

"Sure," Reuben replied, "but we gotta get to the meeting room now, Rooster."

"I know," he mumbled in response as his hands connected with the most important thing he had with him. He held up the pink and blue notebook, his voice calm in spite of his nerves as he said, "Just real quick, you see this? I need you to take this back to my wife if anything happens to me."

His friend was silent for a beat before he said, "Alright. I can do that."

Bradley's fingers tightened around the spiral binding holding together all of his thoughts about fatherhood and how much he loved his unborn child. And now his voice shook a bit as he said, "This is very important to me."

Reuben nodded and said, "Understood. I promise I'll take care of it if the need arises."

"Thank you." Bradley kissed the striped cover and propped the notebook up against his pillow, giving it one last look before he followed Reuben from the bunk.

At first light, Bradley made his way out onto the carrier deck through the rain and whistling wind. The mission was on. The weather was miserable, but the plethora of Naval officers deemed this the best opportunity they were going to get to help their allies. 

It was time. Time for Bradley to trust himself. And if he failed, he trusted Reuben to take the notebook back to San Diego and get it into the hands of his wife. Then you'd take care of the notebook for the Nugget. Because if there was one person who was never going to let him down, it was you.

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

I can't deal with how much I've been hurting my own feelings with these two. Should we start a new series? Would that be okay? A tragic, new series? Thank you for reading about and loving them! Please stay tuned. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[tanked-up]

𝗠𝘆 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼

//𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚂𝚘𝚊𝚙 𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙵𝚒𝚌//

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Soap was no stranger to his sugar addiction. It haunted and adored him at the same time. Chocolate bars have been there for him more than his own friends. You had your typical down days and there Soap had it… a bar. Not any bar, but a chocolate one. He wouldn’t say he was obsessed, but if you’d ask him he’d definitely tell you he was.

So when he found himself feeling down after training, he walked, jogged or most definitely ran to his vending machine. There he found himself in front of it.

“It’s everything a man could ask for, it’s every man’s desire, forget boyfriends or girlfriends. If you have a chocolate bar that’s all you need in life.”

- Quote by John Soap Mactavish, himself”

After a seductive stare at it, he grabbed a dollar bill from his pocket, and in it went. His eyes gazing up to the bar where a sudden shiver sent him completely off reality… except it didn’t. The stupid chocolate bar was fucking stuck on the vending machine. Soap eyed the scene, he scanned every corner of the machine, he grieved for his bar. He raised his hands and stared at the ceiling for any sign of help the ceiling would somehow comfort him with. He clicked each button until his fingers started getting sore until he couldn’t. He flipped the machine as if it were gonna hang him instead of the chocolate bar.

He needed it

Fast forward five intense minutes of self reflection and agony….

He found himself on the floor next to that monster of vending machine. Some would say he could be contemplating life, others could say he was exhausted after a hard day in training. Well he was actually contemplating on grabbing that brick from outside next to that chair over there and throwing it directly at the vending machine. Except he couldn’t, or he wouldn’t… If only there were someone so brave, and heroic as to save his poor helpless hanged, chocolate bar.

Actually, there was.

Fast forward twenty seconds later Soap banging on his dear beloved, friend, bestfriend, or something…! After a few moments with no answer he contemplated on picking the lock himself somehow with his own fingers, but oh thank God! Ghost answered his helpless cries.

Ghost opened the door with nothing but some boxers.

“This better be a fucking emergency or they’re be one in the same exact places your standing.” We’re all the words Ghost could come up with.

“I need my chocolate bar.” Straight to the point Soap went.

“And I need my license, bullshit. Go get it yourself.” A slam to Soap’s face was all that’s left.

Soap knocked on the door again, and knocked, and knocked, and knocked.

“I’m gonna get a bloody knuckle, Lt!!”

“Fine with me” Soap could hear Ghost’s irritation crashing on him.

“Please…” Soap begged at this point, he would do whatever for his chocolate bar. He would pass a recruit if it were for his chocolate bar. “I wasted a dollar for it!”

If only there were something Soap could do to change his mind. Well… that kept him up all night, next to Ghost’s door of course.

There it was.

“Come out for a second, LT. If you value your life.” This was going to be fun…

No answer.

“Alright then, I’ll tell captain about the time you french kis-” Was all Soap could say before the door in front of him flew open. “I knew you’d value our relationship, LT”

“Where’s that fuckin bar.” Ghost grunted as he walked outside the door.

“You’ve got no shirt, LT…!” Soap eyed Ghost’s bare body with his own eyes, the one he had exclusively only for his chocolate bar.

“Yeah and you’ve got no life if you don’t hurry up.”

A smile on the shorter one was all that was left while walking straight to the monster of vending machine.

“Here it is.” Soap glared at the 4 inch taller machine in front of him.

Ghost glared at Soap before he started shaking that sons of bitch.

“I knew you’d come, LT. I’ve never doubted your biceps and incredibly toned strength to do the job.” Of course that was all in his thoughts… With Soap’s eyes glued on the movement of the vending machine, a sudden splat ringed through Soap’s ears, apparently only his. Soap bent down to pick it up, and there he finally had it. His very own chocolate bar.

Before biting on his bar, he stared at Ghost who seemed to bite his head off any second now.

“Before you say anything-” Soap started

“You and me, next Friday behind barracks, or I’ll stick you inside the vending machine myself.” Ghost’s words went as a boom to Soap’s tiny mind, as he watched Ghost head back to his cabin.

Man did Soap love his ma-

He means the chocolate bar…

[lushrue]

under the stars

got bit by the ghoap bug this evening, so have a teensy bit of johnny bringing simon home to scotland and thinking about his feelings

cw: angst, brief mentions of religion/homophobia, unresolved feelings

“stars sure are pretty tonight.”

johnny sat on the roof of his childhood home. distantly, he could hear the sounds of his mother cleaning up from dinner, dishes clattering together and sudsy water pooling in the sink. his nieces and nephews were playing in the backyard, some version of tag mixed with hide-and-seek mixed with cops and robbers. if he listened close enough, he could even hear the sounds of his siblings chatting on the porch. he knew he’d caused quite a stir when he told his ma he was bringing someone home with him on leave. it pulled the atmosphere more taut when he showed up with Simon at his side.

he wasn’t sure how Simon had managed to get up to the roof, how the shingles didn’t buckle under his weight. johnny had choked back a laugh when the giant brute of a man had to stoop to get through the front door. his ma practically needed a stepladder to give one of her famous welcome-to-my-home hugs that she afforded to every guest that crossed her threshold. it was something that had drawn Johnny to him initially: his size. he’d always had a thing for taller men. the thought made him chuckle a little, nearly choking on the smoke from his smoldering cigarette.

“don’t tell ma I’m up ‘ere,” Johnny quipped, his hands resting on his knees. “she’d throw a righ’ fit if she knew I was smokin’.” Simon gave a little half-smile, settling down onto the roof beside Johnny. he pulled his own pack of cigarettes out and lit one, sliding his fingers across his lips to symbolically seal them. Johnny half-smiled back, staring up at the twilight sky. it was dim, not quite dark. the sun hadn’t quite given up its hold on the day, but the moon was quickly winning the war. it was the kind of sky he looked up at when he was out on deployment, the kind that made him wonder what his family had for dinner that night and whether his ma was praying for his safety like she always did.

the wisps of smoke from their cigarettes danced together, spinning together gracefully as they swept up toward the night sky. Johnny watched, the sight setting his mind down the path he’d been trying to avoid since they’d arrived. the road less traveled, he thought idly. wasn’t there a poem about that? he wasn’t sure what the real reason was for asking Simon to come home with him when he’d made the initial request. he told himself that it was because he didn’t want to be alone with his family on leave, that having another military presence would buffer how unnatural it all felt. the dinners around a real table, the lazy mornings, the outings to the local shops simply because they felt like going. he’d been serving so long that it felt like a facsimile of real life, something you only saw in movies.

but the longer they were there, the more he started to realize that that wasn’t the real reason. seeing Simon interacting with his family, the town where he grew up, brought up images of something far more domestic that warmed his heart. images of retirement flashed in his mind, a little flat for the both of them where they could have the dinners around a table and mornings where they could stay tangled around each other in the sheets as long as they wanted. he hated how inevitable it all seemed, how stuck his mind was on this ideal. there was part of him that wasn’t sure it could even happen, not without sacrifice. his ma was a devout Catholic that would balk at the idea of two men living together, and his siblings would likely follow. was that image worth losing everything? he wasn’t sure yet.

Johnny took a long drag of his cigarette, his leg pressing against Simon’s as they sat there. he had to admit that the touches were intentional, attempts to gauge how willing Simon was to entertain affection from his sergeant. they were small, these gestures and seemingly accidental brushes of skin, but Simon never pulled away. not once had he ever pulled away. “i wish,” Simon said, unprompted. his voice stopped abruptly, as if there were words waiting to follow, but they never came. so many possibilities. i wish life could always be this slow, i wish i could tell you how i felt, i wish the world and all who inhabit it could disappear and just leave the two of us behind. Johnny sat silent for a moment, mulling those two words over in his head.

in truth, he wished too. he wished so many things. he wished he was less of a coward. he wished his family was just a slight bit different. he wished that whoever wrote the Bible had spared a thought for the two of them, sitting here under the stars, and put down the pen. Johnny turned his head toward Simon, taking in his features in the dim light. the shadows that cast over his face, still half-obscured by a black surgical mask (to make sure he didn’t spread foreign germs, Simon had explained to his family), made him truly look like a ghost. he swallowed, the ashes of his cigarette burning red against the teal of the sky. “i wish too,” he said simply.

in that moment, there was an understanding between them, something deeper than they’d ever shared. it was practically palpable, like a tangible thing connecting them. that common yearning, that need for something different than what they had. the dissatisfaction, the knots that tied up their stomachs everytime they thought about what could be. they shared a look, blue meeting brown like the ocean meeting the shore.

and then Johnny’s ma called them in for pie. and in they went, carrying this secret, shared thing with them.

[soaqrudyz]

soap had smoked before he enlisted, too.

it was a nasty habit, one he couldn’t bear to kick after it had proved to be the only thing to stop his hands from holding a constant tremble. his mother frowned when, on his scattered weeks and months of leave, he rose every thirty odd minutes, meandered to the back patio for five and came back smelling like ash.

it was impossible for her to understand, he knew. she’d never get that feeling the tar coat his lungs made him forget about the persistent ringing in his ears, that the burn that traveled to his nostrils, making his eyes water, distracted him from the bile constantly threatening to rise from his gut.

on base he smoked without shame broiling under his skin. he was a soldier, he’d probably be better off getting discharged for lung cancer than slowly bleeding out in the field. at least then he’d have a few months to make the most of life, instead of a few measly minutes of denial.

but that was a lie, wasn’t it? he didn’t care about the sidelong glances from his comrades when he showed up tracking the scent of fireplaces after him, he didn’t care about the jokes poking at his yellowed teeth, he didn’t care about the men who demanded he smoke outside their bed. it wasn’t about life or death or any other existential bull. it was about ghost — always about ghost.

ghost smoked in the same spot, at the same time every night. he’d pull the mask up, place the filter between his teeth and smoke two, three cigs before heading back to his designated room. soap would watch, taking a seat far too close to him, and wish those lips were against his instead of the menthol.

all he could do was watch as ghost lifted his big hands to cup the flame, orange light flickering dangerously in those deep, whiskey-colored eyes, and hope the other man couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded behind his ribs. all he could do was watch as ghost took a deep breath, letting the grey smoke linger in his body, before he let it go to float away in the gentle night breeze, muscles relaxing in a way they never did unless nicotine rotted his gums and johnny’s thigh was pressed against his

soap would muse, tiredly, that smoking wasn’t so bittersweet when simon lazily turned and grinned down at him before blowing the smoke in his face.

he’d take anything he could get, even if it was only second hand.

[gingiekittycat]

Reading back through some parts of Gate Duty for the first time in many months and honestly, I'm really proud of this joke

(spaghetti alla puttanesca translates to "whore's spaghetti")

[callofdudes]

Serial killer Simon Riley who stalks and intends to pick off you and your group of friends. Helpless victim y/n who tries their best to escape his slaughter but can tell he's teasing you while picking off your arrogant friends, the likes of Phillip Graves and some others...

Serial Killer Simon Riley? I think yes. Whether he lets you live, or kills you... That remains to be seen.

(if you found this and want read it, it's now out here)

[indigosunsetao3]

Keeping Lines Blurry

Chapter 18- Steadfast

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on AO3 for any of your triggers

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick X Original FMC 12.3k words - AO3 Link

“If they aren’t with us, you assume they are hostiles,” Price said as he tossed Nik an extra magazine realizing all of his vest pockets were stuffed. “That includes anyone who shows up here,” he peered at Nik who just nodded once. Nik was supposed to be gone by now, headed back home to prepare for the shitshow that would happen once everything came to light. But he offered to stay, to keep watch on the house and women inside.

“Any idea how many we are expecting?” Gaz asked as he strapped his dagger on the right shoulder strap of his vest.

“No,” Price answered as he checked his clip before shoving it back in the rifle. “Informant said he was surrounded by five men when he entered the warehouse, but there were multiple cars.”

“Sounds like someone is afraid,” Soap answered smugly as he snatched up an extra throwing knife and tucked it carefully into his boot. “Why risk coming back here anyway?”

“He doesn’t know what we may or may not have,” Ghost answered simply. He was finished prepping, sitting on the couch watching the rest of them finish up. “Probably aims to get ahead of any backlash. Show up alive, beaten up a bit,” he shrugged, “let his paid MI6 agents take the glory for saving him. Then start laying out his story about Olivia’s family, probably has a lie cooked up about us as well to be safe.”

“He’s relying on the old rule, whoever strikes first wins,” Alex chimed in as he stuffed a laptop in his bag. This was a covert mission, off the books because there were too many rats in the intelligence agency. They would have to hack the cameras and security themselves to get in without being spotted. “He’s hoping to get to the press first before Olivia can discredit him. Get his side of the story out first so Olivia is left scrambling. He’s the bigger face, bigger name, thinks it’ll help him.”

“He’s not going to get that far,” Gaz said as he pulled the velcro on his gloves tight and flexed and stretched his fingers to make sure they felt right. He liked to wear them tight, the pressure a strange comfort and also assurance they wouldn’t slip. “What’s the play?” Gaz asked, knowing they all knew what his actual question was. Were they taking Henry alive or not.

“Take out the guards and get to Henry before he can figure out what is going on and try to run,” Price answered as he looked pointedly at Gaz. “See if we can get him to talk. The more information we can get out of him, directly from him, the better.” He swiped the car keys off the table, “but should he give us any problems we’ll deal with it.” The unsaid implication hung in the air and the rest of the team looked at one another for a moment before Ghost rose from his spot and followed Price out the back door.

Gaz didn’t have time to run up to Olivia and tell her they were leaving, properly anyway. Even if he did, he had no idea what he would say to her. He was on his way to capture her husband? To potentially kill him? Gaz knew there was no love lost between Olivia and Henry but he was sure there would still be an odd feeling to sit and wait for news on if your lover killed your husband. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment as he shifted his rifle in his hands, his thumb idly sliding over the safety as he thought. A clap on his shoulder pulled Gaz from his thoughts to find Soap standing there.

“Better to leave her be,” Soap said, guessing correctly at what Gaz was pondering over as he stood there. “Being in the dark on this one may be a bit of a mercy,” he reasoned. “No need for her to worry more, let her sleep some of this shit off. Nik will fill her in when she gets up.” He glanced over at Nik who gave a curt nod, having heard the whole conversation from where he was positioned at the front window.

“Let’s go get the bastard then,” Gaz answered with a half-cocked grin, glancing at the ceiling one more time before walking toward the door behind Soap.

The warehouse was one of the ones Ghost had found in all of his digging. It was a nondescript building far outside of the London city limits. They were in a small manufacturing town that, in its heyday, boasted multiple factories exporting a multitude of different goods and a booming population. These days the smokestacks sat dormant, loading docks empty, and shattered windows allowed birds to flit in and out.

They had parked a ways away, pulling into the back of a closed grocery store, and walked the rest of the way through the woods. There was no sound, no other people around, as they all moved quietly through the underbrush. When they made it to the chain link fence that surrounded the whole property Ghost made quick work of it with bolt cutters. As they crept along the border looking for a good place for Alex to set up they didn’t spot any movement. Price risked a small hand drone flyover to make sure no one was outside, Ghost piloting. All quiet, not a soul outside, which was a plus but also a bit unsettling that there wasn’t even security waiting.

The sun was starting to set as Alex tapped into the security, having found an old guard shack that still had power running to it. He ripped wires from the wall jack and after some finagling, he was into the camera feeds. He was rotating between all the different cameras, different angles of the outside areas, before he finally came upon the cameras inside the main building. They found the security team. There was a solid dozen out on the main floor milling about, armed to the teeth. As Alex clicked through, they found more in an upstairs area but still no Henry. Gaz rolled his neck a bit, an anxious tick, as Alex got back to the beginning of all the camera feeds.

“He couldn’t have left,” Soap mused as he stood behind Alex with his arms crossed over his chest. “Our informant would have seen,” he glanced at Price for confirmation and the Captain nodded.

“He’s here,” Ghost answered. “Too much security, too many cars. He wouldn’t leave without a detail on him.” He continued as Alex clicked through cameras to see if they had just missed him. There were so many cameras on the grounds they could have accidentally missed a feed.

“We need to figure out which room isn’t on the cameras,” Gaz piped up, the idea coming to him in an instant. Henry was a creature of habit. “Henry kept control of the cameras in his home office and bedroom. He was fine with on spying everyone else but no one could watch him. Where are the blueprints for this warehouse?” He smirked as Alex clicked away from the cameras to pull up the files upon files they had on Henry.  “He probably just doesn’t have a camera in his office here,” he reasoned and Price nodded.

“Find the missing room, we find him,” Alex answered as Soap pulled up a chair and made a crude sketch of the blueprints in the last clean pages of his sketchbook. Together they worked through the cameras, Soap marking them on his hand-drawn map; Ghost looming over their shoulders to make sure they didn’t miss anything.

“How’s Olivia holding up?” Price asked Gaz quietly as they stood watch over the door to the guard shack while the others worked. His hand was gripping his rifle casually, his finger resting on the trigger guard as he peered around the empty parking lot. “Her mother was a mess. Nik said he was afraid she was going to hyperventilate and pass out on the way to the safe house. Practically had to carry her upstairs.”

“She’s,” Gaz paused as he leaned his shoulder on the door jam opposite Price. “Well, she seems surprisingly alright,” he said as he racked his brain over everything. “She’s been in a living hell for years so she’s learned how to cope with chaos.” Gaz sighed as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “Olivia is stronger than anyone gives her credit for than I ever did.”

Price stood quietly for a few seconds as if debating his next words carefully. Gaz gave him the space to figure it out. The two of them had argued more in the past few weeks than they had the past few years combined. Gaz always fell in step with his Captain, and barely ever disagreed enough to even voice it. But bringing Olivia back in the picture seemed to have upset the status quo, and gave something Gaz to argue about.

“I’m not going pretend with you that I am exactly happy about you and Olivia again,” Price finally mused. He chuckled a bit at Gaz’s face, “you aren’t as sneaky as you’d like to think. We all know you too well,” he peered over at the other three men as they mapped things out for a second before turning his attention back to Gaz. “She destroyed you. It was brutal and putting you back together is not something I ever want to do again. The utter devastation almost got you killed a few times. You were so wrapped up in the anger, the pain, it ripped your senses right out of you.” He sighed and paused again trying to find the proper words. “Just, don’t get so deep again until you know for sure. She’s got a long fucking road to come back from. It’s going to be rough for anyone involved.”

“Understood Captain,” Gaz said with a small smile as he shifted his feet a bit. “I’m not going to let her do it alone,” he tacked on as Price watched him. “But I’m also not going to let it come between the team either. I can’t go through it again myself; I don’t think you can come back from that twice.” Those days had been dark enough that some of them were just fuzzy memories as if his brain tried to block them out for his preservation. “Though, I’d like to hope she doesn’t manage to find another Henry,” he chuckled a bit and Price returned the gesture.

“She finds another one of them I’m hanging up the hat,” Soap answered as he leaned back in his chair, holding his notebook up. “We’ve got it,” he shook the notebook a bit, and Price and Gaz walked over to take a look. The five of them crowded around the laptop as they mapped out their plan, Soap scribbling and erasing on his drawing as they worked through it.

The sun was almost completely down by the time they finalized everything and Alex had managed to clone and overwrite the cameras. Gaz had watched the man’s fingers flying over the keyboard with unmasked aw. Alex merely acted like he was writing up a report and kept up with the conversation happening around him as he clicked away. The man barely batted an eye as he ran code and slipped between security walls like a phantom, laying down false images and turning off virtual tripwires. When he announced he was done he snapped the laptop shut and stuffed it back into his pack, but not before unplugging the hard drive and pocketing it. If he lost his pack the laptop would be useless without the drive.

“Let’s go then,” Price said as the lights inside the warehouse across the way started to come on inside. “We’ve all got our marks,” he looked around at the team and all of them nodded. “Let’s make it quick and clean then. Fucker has dragged this out long enough.” He grinned and led the way out the door, crossing the parking lot in a low jog as they all fanned out.

Gaz climbed up the straight-shot ladder on the side of the building as fast as he could, careful to avoid the rotted-out rungs as he went. He saw Ghost disappear around the left side of the building as he hoisted himself over the lip of the flat roof, Alex going around the other side. Once he was situated up top he peered over the edge as Soap slipped between the line of vehicles planting C4, his hands moving quickly to run the wire and set the trips. Price was set up at the loading docks prepared for people to come out that way.

“In position,” Gaz said quietly into his comms as he stared down the large vent on the roof. The grate had long since rusted out and he had to pull out the remnants of an old bird's nest to get a clear shot. He could hear the muffled voices of people inside the building coming up through the funnel and he smirked. He pulled out a smoke bomb and hooked a finger in the pin as he waited for confirmation from the rest of the team.

“Cars and the front door are all set,” Soap said, his voice a bit jostled as he ran. He was to wait across the way and blow the front door while the rest of the distractions happened. Then he would wait for people to come out, pick them off, and blow the cars if they attempted an escape before coming in to aid.

“Ready to cut the lights,” came Ghost. There was a chance they had a backup generator but it would take a bit to get that online, Alex had confirmed there was nothing wired for an automatic trip. So that would be a few minutes of chaos in the dark for them.

“Flashbangs are a go,” Alex answered.

“Hit it,” Price’s voice came across.

Gaz tossed his smoke bomb down the vent before stepping back and heading to the rooftop access door to get inside. He pulled his scarf up over his face, not overly concerned about the smoke being too thick from where he was going to be. There were catwalks at the top of the warehouse that he could move along and pick off people with his heat vision. The paths were like spiderwebs, spread out all along the top of the building and Gaz did his best to memorize them. He was also silently praying that they would still hold up after all these years and he didn’t come crashing down from a loose bolt or two.

It took about ten seconds before anyone realized what was happening inside. The moment raised voices came from the exploded smoke bomb the lights cut and Gaz prepared himself for the flashbangs that were next. Alex had slipped in a side door and tossed them at pockets of people which sent them scrambling as they exploded. He was running the inside perimeter of the building throwing as he went which forced people to gather more toward the center of the building to try and get away. In the pandemonium, they had raised their guns up and were firing at what they thought the origin of the attack was. None of their shots hit their mark though, Alex long gone from where they were aiming.

“Hold Soap,” Gaz said into his microphone as he rested his rifle on the catwalk railing. He didn’t want to give away his position just yet. While it was a good vantage point, he would be too easy to pick off if the men below rallied against him. “They’re going for the doors,” he added as he spotted Alex dart up to the second level and get into firing position. “Now!” He called as a group of men pushed at the doors and realized that it was blocked from the outside.

The explosion rocked the building and Gaz felt the catwalk swing ominously at the blowback, his hand holding tight to steady himself. The flare of the fire lit up the inside, sending things into sharp relief for a moment as a few bodies flew back. Gaz shut his eyes at the burst of light in his heat vision before he opened them and readjusted his rifle from where it had slipped. He fired his first shot, taking out a man who was headed for a side door before twisting and taking out his friend who was looking around for the origin.

The din inside increased ten-fold as the men they were firing upon started yelling orders to one another and began returning rapid fire as a group. Gaz dropped another one before having to scramble down the walkway, the return fire whizzing by as it clipped the metal, sending sparks. He took a sharp left turn and dropped down to his knees, aiming directly through the slats in the floor of the path to take another man out as he attempted to radio out for help. Bullets were flying all over the place, glass shattering and Gaz was back up on his feet in an instant running in the direction of the loading dock doors. Price was a good shot but he wouldn’t be able to take them all out if they tried that exit. Gaz picked off two more men before a shot embedded itself in the ceiling right by his head.

“Ghost!” Alex yelled through his comms and Gaz whipped around to see if he could see what had happened. It was nothing but flashes of muzzle fire and he jumped back as the railing he was supporting himself on gave way and the pipe fell into the darkness below.

“What happened?” Soap’s voice cut across, he was still outside a ways away from the fighting, waiting for the best time to set off the next round of explosions.

“”m fine,” came Ghost’s voice, though it sounded a bit strained. “Keep your focus on the objective,” he added before cutting out.

“The fuck you are,” Alex snapped, his words a pant as he returned fire and bolted through the second story below Gaz. “I saw the hit,” he added before jumping down the last few steps down. “And I saw you go down,” he tacked on before Ghost could argue again that he was fine.

Gaz followed Alex from the walkway, careful to keep him covered as he weaved around everything on the floor. There were a few men that had regrouped and Gaz groaned as he spotted them heaving what looked like a heavy gun. Courtesy of Henry’s illegal arms manufacturing. Gaz fired upon them but they ducked away and he had to move around another way to get a better angle, avoiding the return fire.

“Lucky shot,” Ghost answered. Gaz finally saw him as he knelt and steadied his breathing to aim at the men who were hiding. Ghost was pressed up against an old machine holding his leg as he continued to return fire, working in tandem with Gaz without them even discussing it. Ghost drew them to return fire at him then Gaz took them out from above with a headshot when they poked their heads up. “Pretty sure it was a through and through,” he added after a second.

“I’ve got him,” Alex cut back as Gaz saw him slide in next to Ghost and wrench him around the back of the machine to keep him covered. “He’ll live,” he tacked on after a second, “outside of the thigh, going leave a nasty scar.”

“Just another for the collection,” Ghost answered with a dark laugh. There was a reason he kept his face and the rest of his skin completely covered.

“I’m coming in, we need to wrap this up.” Price interjected, “I’m going to push them out the front, Soap.”

“Rog,” Soap answered, his voice a bit strained. He hated not being in the thick of it and Gaz knew he was agitated that Ghost had taken a hit. “Still no sign of Henry?”

“Hasn’t left his hidey hole” Gaz answered as he continued his trek through the maze of catwalks, laying down fire then darting away before anyone could get a lock on him. “Steel door hasn’t opened,” he added as he glanced back at the room that Henry had picked as his safe spot. It was the only area in the warehouse that didn’t have a camera and was probably the most well-enforced. It was an old freezer back from when this warehouse was in food production.

“Keep an eye on it, make sure he doesn’t make a run for it,” Price answered as one of the loading dock rolling doors flew up. The sound was a loud clatter and it instantly drew fire from the enemy. Then the next one went up, and a third. They had no idea which one someone was coming in, or how many had come in, and the flashbangs that Price tossed in disoriented everyone even more.

Gaz continued to drop the men from his vantage point, careful to make it a one-and-done shot so they couldn’t pinpoint him. Alex and Ghost laid down cover fire as well from their tucked away spot and Price drove the rest toward the front door. Gaz could hear what was left of the security team yelling about a retreat, to get to the cars and evacuate the boss. He took down another with a headshot as he went to the freezer door to pull it open, the blood splattering on the metal. He wasn’t letting Henry get out and he certainly wasn’t going to let him get blown up; that was too easy of a death.

“All yours Soap,” Gaz called over his comms as he watched the last few dart out the door to the cars. He heard the vehicle doors slam shut and hesitated in his walk waiting for the explosion. It didn’t take long. There were four in quick succession and the fireball was impressive as it rose up past the high ruined windows and blew out some of the weaker panes that were left. They had created enough chaos that the lights never came back on and Gaz quickly assessed the warehouse from what he could see to make sure no one else was lingering.

“Clear from my spot,” Gaz announced as he stomped down another section of the catwalk to glance over the edge. It was quiet enough inside now that the sound of the metal rattling could be heard echoing around.

“Nothing on the heartbeat sensor,” Alex answered as he carefully walked the lower level, monitor in one hand, gun in the other. He had left Ghost sitting after wrapping his leg tight with a bandage, cutting his pant leg off near the hip to be able to get the bandage on.

“Regroup and we clear the final room,” Price said as he positioned himself outside the freezer door, gun poised on the door.

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. He jogged toward the ladder that would take him off the catwalk and then jogged to the stairs from the second floor to the first. Just as he shouldered open the stairwell door, gun raised to be safe since there still wasn’t a full all-clear, he saw Soap lean up against the wall nearest to the freezer door handle. Alex returned to Ghost’s side and helped him stand, nodding that they would remain out in the warehouse to keep cover.

“We don’t know what is on the other side of this,” Price said as he stared down his sights. “Just blueprints. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t been altered and we don’t know how many people are inside.”

“Good thing we have someone that can clean house,” Gaz said with a smirk as he looked at Soap who returned the grin.

“On three,” Price said as he stepped closer, and Soap’s hand latched onto the handle. Gaz was ready, gun aimed right where the gap in the door would appear when Soap opened it. Price started the countdown, his voice low but clear as he inched closer. Gaz let out a calming breath and his eyes darted to Soap for a second, catching the subtle head nod he gave him before his gaze returned to the target. When Price reached one, Soap yanked the door open in one swift movement, quickly dropping back from the gap to avoid any potential defensive fire from within.

With guns raised, the three men stepped into the pitch-black room, ready for whatever awaited them.

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Olivia didn’t know how long she had slept for. When she awoke, she stretched out with a pleasant groan, rolling over to find the room was almost completely dark and Kyle was nowhere to be found. There was no clock in the room and her phone had long been lost and probably destroyed so she had nothing to refer to. Sliding her legs out of bed she fished around for the bedside lamp switch before gathering her clothes off the floor and getting dressed. The house seemed strangely quiet as she pulled her hair up and when she opened the bedroom door to see the whole upstairs was still dark, she raised her eyebrows a bit.

She walked down to the room her mother was in and quietly opened the door to check on her. Her mother was still curled under the blankets and Olivia watched her for a moment, noticing the slow rise and fall of her breathing before she slipped back out again. Her mother needed the rest and there was plenty of time to talk later, much later. Olivia wasn’t sure when she would be ready for another talking session with her. She still had so many things to process and her mother was already in shock enough, having known none of what had been happening for years. Olivia at least had a semblance of the disaster their family’s lives had been.

“Kyle?” Olivia called out as she walked down the stairs. The living room light was on and she could hear the quiet mumblings of the evening news on the television. When she cleared the bottom step, she didn’t see anyone and the sudden feeling of unease settled over her as she looked around. “Hello?” She questioned a bit unsure as she poked her head in the dining room before she heard movement coming from the kitchen.

“Oh,” Nik paused in his cooking as Olivia appeared in the doorway, his hand freezing in its movement to grab his pistol off the counter. “Startled me,” he said with a chuckle before going back to the frying pan. “Hungry?” He asked lifting the pan up and tilting it to show the mix of rice and meat in there.

“Ah,” Olivia said as she stared at the man. She knew who he was, he had brought her mother here and she had seen him when they arrived hours ago. But knowing his name, what he looked like, and that he could be trusted that was the extent of her knowledge. “I mean, yes,” she said after a second, her stomach growling at the scent of the food. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate. “But where is everyone?”

Nik was shifting around the kitchen cabinets for plates and he pulled down two mismatched ones to the counter, gently pushing his pistol out of the way with his elbow. He peered at her over his shoulder before finding forks and two glasses of water, which had to be from the tap because there was nothing bottled. He didn’t answer her right away as he plated the food, dropping the pan in the sink and carrying the plates over to the small kitchen table. As Olivia stared at him, he gestured for her to sit before grabbing the glasses of water and taking a seat himself.

Olivia stared at Nik expectantly and the longer he took to answer the more nervous she became. She debated on refusing to sit until he told her something but relented and took a seat, watching him as he sat across from her. It suddenly felt like there was a great secret or painful thing, he was about to tell her and her heart rate jumped in her chest. Surely they would have woken her if something major had happened. If Kyle had been hurt or another attack happened, they wouldn’t have just left her to slumber.

“They’ve gone to collect Henry,” Nik said as he dug into the food and took a bite. He saw the look of surprise on her face and he took another bite before setting down his fork. “It was fast, they couldn’t wait to move on the intel. I offered to stay behind to keep an eye on you and your mother,” he explained and he pointed at her fork to indicate she needed to eat. He waited for her to raise the utensil and take a few bites before continuing. “They left a few hours ago,” he paused and looked at his watch, “almost four hours. Henry was spotted back in England on the outskirts of London.”

“Four hours?” Olivia asked shocked as she looked around the kitchen for a clock. She had slept a long while; her sense of time was completely thrown. “Have you heard anything? Did they get him? Should they be gone this long?” She asked, fork hovering in the air as she waited for an answer. The food was delicious but she couldn’t stomach another bite yet, not with the nervous butterflies in her stomach at all the unknown.

“I haven’t heard anything yet,” Nik answered, “turned on the news to be safe. They had to do it strictly off the books, no outside communication. MI6 is compromised, couldn’t risk them tipping off Henry. Anything major happens it’ll be on,” he continued to eat before taking a sip of his water. He watched Olivia over his glass as she started to pick at the food again. “Four hours isn’t that long, not with having to travel, get a lay of the land, and get a plan. No need to worry…not yet.”

Olivia nodded a bit mechanically as she ate the food in front of her, not really tasting it but needing to eat something. Her mind was swimming with questions, with unease, fear. What if the last time she saw Kyle was when he tucked her into sleep and curled her against him? She felt nausea rise and she gently pushed the plate away after eating about half of it. She wished he had come up to say goodbye, but she also knew she would have been agonizing over this for that much longer. She downed the glass of water in a few gulps and wished she had something stronger, eyes glancing around the kitchen.

“Here,” Nik said, knowing what she wanted without having to say. He produced a flask from the inside of his vest before rising and cleaning up the dishes.

Olivia took it and took a swig, wincing at the straight Vodka inside. It burned and she made a face before taking another sip and setting the flask down on the table. It felt odd to be sitting in a kitchen somewhere in London, not sure where so close to home yet so far away. With a man who was a protector but she knew nothing about, waiting to hear news about if her husband was taken into custody thanks to the evidence her father had dug up on him. Evidence that Olivia had stolen right under the Russian’s nose then watched her lover murder one in front of her eyes to keep her safe. Her life felt like one big giant fog of a thing as of late and today all of it came to a head. She took one more swig of Vodka to see if the sting could clear some of the blur away, it didn’t, she sighed and rose from the table.

“Thank you for the meal it was-“ she started but Nik held his hand up to silence her. She saw him cock his head and she froze, turning slowly on her heel afraid she was going to see an enemy creeping up on them. Her eyes darted around the kitchen for a weapon, or a way out, but she saw Nik hadn’t raised his gun. She blinked as Nik whipped the dishtowel off his shoulder, shoved his pistol in his thigh holster, and walked toward the living room.

“What’s going on?” Olivia asked as she followed him. He was standing directly in front of the television, hands on his hips, as he watched the broadcast. Olivia turned to face the screen and she could see helicopter footage of a warehouse. The remains of something smoldering in the drive area sent up large plumes of black acrid smoke into the air. Nik turned the volume up a bit more and they could hear the newscaster better. They stated they weren’t sure what caused the explosion, just that it was reported by residents. They were speculating that it was an old generator that finally exploded, old chemicals, or even kids messing about in the abandoned area.

“Not kids,” Nik said simply as he dug out his phone. “Soap,” he said as he looked over at Olivia for a second before whoever he called picked up on the other end and he started talking to them. Olivia wasn’t listening to Nik as she stared at the screen, waiting for any sign of something happening but the helicopter shot didn’t show anything else. There was no movement outside the warehouse and the feed cut back to the newsroom. The newscaster said that they were sending a ground crew to meet with the police and would have updates later.

“Laswell is going to keep the police at bay for a little longer,” Nik said after he hung up the phone. “We just continue the waiting game,” he said as he looked at Olivia who was glancing between him and the television. “Everyone thinks the fighting is the worst part of a war, but it’s the waiting,” he gestured to the coffee table where he had a half-finished game of solitaire up. “Know how to play Durak?” When Olivia gave him a small headshake he grinned, “I’ll show you, then you can beat Garrick. Little shit learned from me and kicks all of our asses now.”

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Gaz had his night vision on and when he stepped into the room he spotted two men hidden behind a desk. Between him, Price, and Soap they were dropped in a matter of moments, Gaz had no idea whose shots took them out. They weren’t the only ones though. Bullets came from the right and Gaz dropped down to a knee and took aim at a couch, littering the upholstery with bullets until a figure fell on the floor behind it with a thump. Soap dropped another man who had taken up a hiding spot behind some metal cabinets, the bullets echoing as they made contact before that assailant fell.

“Visual?” Price asked as he swept behind Gaz and Soap, checking behind a safe large enough for a grown man to hide next to. There was no one there.

“Nothing yet,” Soap answered as he walked around the desk and kicked the bodies over to look at their faces. None of them were Henry. He looked up as Gaz zeroed in on a portable closet, his hand raising to yank the door open. When Gaz looked back, Soap and Price both nodded, their guns trained on the door, and Gaz pulled it open.

It was a quick blur as he got the door open. There was a pistol aimed right at his face but Gaz reacted fast enough to avoid the shot. The muzzle of Gaz’s gun connected hard with the hand that was holding the pistol. Henry’s hand. The gun clattered away on the cement floor and Gaz reached in his left hand to bodily yank the man out of his hiding place by the back of his neck. Sliding his rifle over his back in one swift motion, Gaz threw Henry to the floor and was on his back, knee digging between his shoulder blades. Henry scrambled and cursed as Gaz pressed down and got on his comms to let the rest of the team know that they had him.

“Lights coming,” Alex answered before the power was flipped back on a moment later and Gaz blinked a few times in the sudden brightness. “We’ve got company, we can hear a helicopter circling, just a matter of time before we deal with the local police,” Alex added. Gaz couldn’t hear the helicopter himself but that was probably because they were inside the well-insulated freezer.

“Surprise Henry,” Gaz snarled, as he kept the man pinned under his knee. He looked rough, even from the back. His normally well-pressed shirt was wrinkled and stained in places. The greying hair was a greasy disheveled mess and Gaz couldn’t help but be smug at the patchy facial hair on his jaw that was stark white.

“What? Gone silent now? You could never keep your mouth shut before,” Gaz snapped as the man squirmed and Gaz pressed his knee down harder. How many times had Gaz thought about this? Thought about tearing this man apart piece by piece. Drawing out his pain as he made him pay for everything he had done. Done to him, Olivia, Olivia’s family, and all the innocent people he had killed in his scheming.

“Nowhere to go now,” he taunted as he grabbed the side of Henry’s face and shoved it hard into the concrete, wondering how much pressure he could put on before it cracked his cheek or eye socket. “How’s it feel?” Gaz asked as he pushed more and Henry spluttered for air, or maybe that was in pain.  “How’s it feel to be fucking trapped?” Gaz hissed, his fingers moving to curl in the man’s hair and rear his head back before smashing it into the floor hard. Bone crunched and blood splattered on the grey floor as Henry’s nose exploded. “To be helpless under someone stronger, bigger?” He was going to destroy him, make him feel an ounce of what Olivia felt when he pinned her under him. Gaz was seeing red as his breathing picked up and he pulled his head back again to smash it back down when a voice cut in.

“Sergeant,” came Price’s voice; even and calm. It wasn’t admonishing, nor telling him to stop. It was just a small reminder of who Gaz was; what he was. Giving him a chance to see through the seething anger for just a moment.

Gaz hesitated before recalling what Price said, that they wanted to try and get Henry to talk. Shifting off his back Gaz yanked him up and dog-walked him to the desk chair. He paused long enough to kick the bodies away before throwing Henry down in the office chair The man reared back, almost upending the seat before settling back in a normal position. His nose was steadily dripping blood and it was running down his chin to drip on his expensive shirt. The glare Henry gave Gaz was a delicious one and Gaz laughed as he waited for Henry to try and talk himself out of this one.

“Surprised to see me?” Gaz asked, cocking his head to the side a bit. “You had to know I was going to find you one way or another, right? You put a mark on my life, on Olivia’s, that shit wasn’t going to just slide.” Gaz’s hand shot out to take the gun he saw Soap pick up from the ground. The same pistol Henry had aimed at Gaz’s head when he wrenched him from the closet. “None of your shit worked. You may have killed Olivia’s father, your best friend,” he scoffed as he leaned closer and got into Henry’s face. “But unfortunately for you, he got the last laugh in all this.” Gaz slid the gun between their bodies, bringing the muzzle of the pistol up to dig into Henry’s jaw right where it met his neck. “For a man of many words, you sure are fucking quiet Henry,” Gaz said as he pressed the pistol harder into the skin, making Henry’s head tilt back.

“You won’t do it,” Henry said as his eyes attempted to flick down to look at the gun, but it was too close for him to actually see it. “You need me alive,” he prompted as Gaz pushed him further back in the chair, the material groaning under the pressure. “Me dead will do nothing. And your Captain won’t let you just murder me,” he looked at Price who was standing there watching quietly.

“Don’t underestimate what I will and won’t do,” Gaz said as his eyes flicked over to the side where Price was. His Captain looked at him for a moment before giving a small nod. Gloves were off. “And my Captain doesn’t truly care if you’re alive or not,” he gave a small humorless laugh as his finger passed over the trigger. “I could end you right now, with your own gun,” he twisted the pistol and slid it so it was pressing into the soft spot under Henry’s jaw, right under his tongue. Gaz smirked as his eyes flicked down to the pistol before back to Henry's eyes which were a tad bit wider. “Murderous, lying, abuser commits suicide, seems like a fitting headline.”

“What do you want?” Henry finally said after a moment. His self-preservation stronger than the need to win at the moment. “Money?” His eyes shot over to Soap who laughed as he stared at Henry in disbelief. “Weapons? Contacts?” He reached a hand out to his desk drawer and hesitated as Gaz dug the pistol in harder, silently warning him to not try anything. “I can give you whatever you want. Work with me and you’ll never want for anything ever again. No more shit jobs, working for the government.” His hand yanked a draw open and Gaz saw tons of overstuffed hanging files.

“We can’t be bought that easily,” Gaz answered as Price walked around to pull some files out and flipped through them. “All this work to get you, almost dying too many times to count…you will have to try harder than that,” he continued as Price handed some paper to Soap for him to look at.

“I’ll leave you be. Tell me how much it would cost to pay you off and disappear into the fucking sunset,” Henry said as he swallowed hard. “You can see how much money I have,” he explained to Price even though he couldn’t see him at the angle Gaz held him at. “My resources. You could be set for life, never hear from me again. I’ll even let you take my bitch wife with you,” he said and he smirked at how Gaz’s eyes flared at the insult. “Not worth my time anymore, think of it as a free perk.” He groaned in pain as Gaz’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat pushing down on the prominent Adam’s apple.

“Try harder,” Gaz said before letting his throat go so he could talk. “And leave Olivia out of it. You don’t get to talk about her, look at her or even fucking touch her ever again,” he tacked on, the venom dripping in his voice.

“I’ll give you my connections,” Henry tried as he pointed to the safe across the way. “Co-collaborators. I work with many powerful people, here and in other countries. If you spin it that I was manipulated I’ll give you everything. Let me walk and I’ll disappear, I promise,” he locked eyes with Gaz who barely looked up at Price.

“What’s the combo?” Gaz asked, playing into it like he was going to go for it. “Lie and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” he tacked on as Soap walked over to the safe ready to take the numbers. He saw Henry debating, wondering if he could trust Gaz at his word but he didn’t have a choice now. He rattled off six numbers and Soap spun the dial this way and that before the lock popped and he pulled it open. He had his gun raised cautiously because the safe was large enough to hold someone inside if they wanted. It was empty of a human but was packed full of cash, guns, paperwork, multiple laptops, and cell phones. It was a literal jackpot of information.

“All there,” Henry prompted after a second of silence as the three men stared at the prize before them. “We can say that I was trying to keep everyone alive by working with them but they out-maneuvered me,” Henry stated, as if he already had this story up his sleeve as one of his many backup plans. “Let you all come out as the heroes. I’ll disappear from the public eye to recover from the trauma,” he watched as Soap yanked a laptop out and flipped it open to power it up. “We all win here,” he added into the silence.

“Seems promising,” Gaz relented, his face moving to a contemplative gaze as he looked over his shoulder for a second. He felt Henry relax a bit under his hold. “But I don’t think so,” he smirked as Price flipped the switch off on his recorder on his vest, one that had been on since they walked into the room. “We got what we wanted out of you. You’re useless to me now.” Gaz slid his finger over the trigger and stared right into Henry’s eyes, inches from his face, and pulled it.

Henry cried out at the click and clenched his eyes shut preparing for the shot that would end him. But it didn’t come. Soap had emptied the clip quietly before handing Gaz the gun. They wanted to scare Henry, get him to talk, but not kill him. That was too easy of a way out; too simple. Gaz wanted to draw out his pain, let him get dragged through the coals, and suffer as the world turned on him. But Gaz couldn’t resist pulling the trigger. Just once. Just to see the sheer panic and fear on the man’s face. It had been worth it and Gaz was pretty sure the asshole wet himself as he opened his eyes, realizing he was in fact not dead.

“Police are here,” Alex said from the door as he peered into the scene in the room. “They know we’re in here and have been told to stand down…but they’ll get antsy if we take too long.”

“Handcuffs,” Gaz said as Soap handed him the plastic zip ties before he yanked Henry up out of the chair. He had wet himself and Gaz pulled a face as he turned him around yanked his arms hard behind his back and zipped his wrists together. It was tight enough he knew his fingers would go numb in a matter of seconds. “Walk,” Gaz instructed as Henry resisted, still muttering and trying to talk his way out of this.

Gaz walked Henry out of the building, followed by Price and Soap. The camera lights were bright as Gaz walked over to the police sergeant and passed off the prisoner. Ghost had opted to stay inside for a bit, not wanting to broadcast his injury for everyone to see. Alex had gone to seek out medical help from one of the ambulances, using the side door so it was away from the news vans.

Henry’s face was a livid red as he screamed at Gaz, at the cameras that couldn’t decide who to focus on, that he was innocent. That this was a mistake, that Gaz and the rest of the team would be stripped of their titles and awards for the atrocities they did that they were trying to pin on him. The lies flew from his mouth as easy as breathing and Gaz smirked as an officer put him in the backseat of their cruiser. The news reporters seemed uneasy as they tried to figure out what to do but Price walked over to give a very brief comment, before walking away. Press and briefings were Laswell’s specialty and she already had a statement written out to send the moment Henry had been taken into custody.

“Better man than me,” Soap said as they watched the police cruiser with Henry inside, still screaming, pull away. “I would have shot him, maybe stabbed him a bit,” he smirked knocking his shoulder into Gaz’s.

“I thought about it,” Gaz answered as his eyes flicked over to Ghost who was limping to the ambulance waving off the frantic medics who were pleading with him to get on the stretcher. Alex lugging his gear behind him. “But I figured less paperwork for Price,” he laughed, “he’ll get what’s coming to him. Playing the long game was the better option this time…I think.”

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

Nine Months Later

Gaz rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, untangling himself from Olivia’s legs and arms as he slipped to the kitchen to start the coffee. Today was a big day and he knew Olivia had been up most of the night tossing and turning with the weight of what was to come. She had woken him up at two in the morning from her nightmare and had practically pulled him on top of her, kissing him frantically as if he would disappear. Gaz gently eased her down from her panic with soft touches and kisses, his hands sliding over her flushed sweaty skin until she was moaning from pleasure and not fear as he slid into her. She had begged him not to stop until she couldn’t talk anymore and when they finished, she fell into an actual restful sleep.

Leaning his hip on the counter Gaz stared out the small kitchen window at the sleepy streets of London. The flat they had rented wasn’t the best one out there, but it was decent enough for them, in a not-too-bad part of the city. Olivia had the money her father had left for her and her mother and she was careful how she spent it. She set her mother up in a townhouse not too far from them, put a lawyer on retainer, and bought a cheap beat-up car to get around then hid what was left. Gaz supplemented the rest of their needs with his pay, knowing the lawyer was going to eat up most of the money between supporting Olivia and her mother during all of this. Who knew how long it would take for the government to work through the debts and her parents’ estate, and if there would even be any money left by the time they were done.

When the coffee machine stopped gurgling Gaz poured himself a cup of black coffee before padding to the living room. He glanced at the clock on the bare wall before kicking his feet up on the coffee table, leaning down to rub at his knee. He had two new scars on it from the surgery he had a couple of months back to repair the damage, the skin still raised and dark from the incisions. The pain wasn’t as bad as it had been before he finally relented to the surgery, but it still ached. Especially in the morning or if it was going to rain, which in London it was more common to rain than not.

Gaz turned on the television, lowered the volume a few degrees, and flipped to the news channel. They were already talking about the trail, even if it wasn’t going to resume until ten that morning. It was all the news talked about these days, treating it like a football match with play-by-play, analysis, predictions, and even conspiracies. Soap had called Gaz after he testified for three days and made him look at a gossip rag about him. Soap then proceeded to laugh himself silly as Gaz read about how he supposedly was sending subliminal messages as he shifted in the witness chair.

“My fucking knee hurt,” Gaz argued back to Soap who was still laughing, “I had to adjust because I was sitting there for hours. What sort of messages what I supposedly sending?” He scrolled as he read through some of them. “For fuck’s sake,” he groaned as he found the pictures where images had been circled as if pointing out the proof. “They really will latch onto anything for a stupid story.” “Quit tellin’ the lizard people our secrets,” Soap said, cracking himself up again before hanging up.

That was two weeks ago. Gaz had to testify because he had been attacked and was also the person to execute the arrest of Henry. They had grilled him, had tried to get him to trip up, saying he was a jealous ex-lover trying to make Henry be the bad guy. Had tried to discredit everything he said but it hadn’t worked. Gaz had stuck to the truth through all of it and unfortunately for Henry, the truth didn’t unravel.

Now everyone was fixated on the star witness, the person who was closest to Henry and had all the inside information; Olivia. Gaz knew this was going to be hard for her. He had sat in on the mock questioning by the government lawyers and her own lawyer and had seen what it did to her. She had come home in tears a few times and had panic attacks and Gaz had found her on more than one occasion sitting in the dark of the bedroom just staring at the wall thinking. Sometimes he debated if keeping Henry alive was the best idea after all. It put Olivia through all of this, drawing out her torture unable to fully close the book on that chapter of her life until this was done. The divorce from Henry had been sped through the courts in a matter of a few short weeks after his arrest, but he was still tied to her because of the trial.

Olivia had said she understood why Gaz kept him alive and had agreed it was the smarter and better way. Make him live through everything he did, and in his attempts to weasel his way out of punishment, he gave over more and more information on his counterparts. It led to many arrests, and a total upheaval of MI6 and a few other government officials, something they wouldn’t have gotten as fast without him. But Gaz knew she was suffering despite the brave face she put on for the media as she attended the trial. She only went on the days Gaz testified or when she was needed, she didn’t want to be around the circus or even see Henry if she didn’t need to.

Gaz sipped on his coffee as he watched the news when he heard the bedroom door click open and he twisted to see Olivia standing there. Her hair was a mess of a halo around her head and she rubbed one eye as she looked at him in nothing but his t-shirt. She still looked exhausted and Gaz dropped his feet from the table and stood up, setting his coffee down on the table, and walked over.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Gaz asked quietly as he enveloped her in his arms, feeling her rest her ear against his chest. “You had at least another thirty minutes of sleep before I got you up,” he explained as he rubbed her back gently.

“No, I just…woke up,” Olivia said with a soft sigh as she listened to Kyle’s heartbeat for a moment. “And when I realized you were already up, I just decided to get out of bed,” she tilted her head up and smiled at him a bit, though Gaz could see the nerves behind her eyes. “Bit nauseated this morning,” she explained. The nerves were not helping her already uneasy stomach and she felt Kyle pull away from her to head to the kitchen. Toast was the only thing that settled her these days, only thing she could really stomach, along with some herbal tea.

“Go shower,” he said leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I’ll make you something to eat,” he pulled out of her embrace completely before giving her a small pat on the bottom to make her go. He smirked as she swatted at him before she disappeared back into their bedroom to the only bathroom in the flat to shower. He heard the squealing pipes as she started the water before they finally quieted down after the water ran for a few seconds.

By the time Olivia emerged with a towel wrapped around her body, and another tying up her hair, Gaz had her toast with butter and a little jam and mint tea ready. She smiled gratefully and sat down on the couch, eyes flicking to the television which had conveniently been changed to a sitcom rerun. Olivia avoided the news as much as she could, barely even using social media on her phone because the trial was everywhere. She didn’t even like going out in public because people recognized her from all the old photos and constant news reels. Especially in the lead-up to her start of testifying against Henry. Her mother came by and a few old friends stopped by but for the most part, Olivia spent her days alone while Gaz continued to work.

Gaz was doing desk work for the time being, staying on assignment in London as her personal bodyguard because of the threats from crazies and Henry’s associates. It was under the guise of recovering from his surgery but his real assignment was keeping Olivia safe, and probably sane because if she had been left completely alone, she would have lost it. When Gaz told her he was going back to work she had a meltdown before he could explain it was at a local office running intelligence, he wasn’t leaving her for weeks on end.

“Sorry for keeping you up last night,” Olivia muttered around her toast as Gaz sat back down next to her and sipped on his coffee. Sleep had been alluding her for a while but it was getting worse as of late.

“I’m fine,” Gaz answered, “I can go a few days without much sleep, this is nothing,” he smiled as Olivia held out her toast to him to take a bite before taking it back to finish it off. He chewed for a moment before looking pointedly at her, “you still feel up to going? I’m sure if you feel ill,” he started but Olivia shook her head.

“I’m not going to prolong it,” she said, “the waiting is the worst part as Nik once told me.” She sighed a bit glancing at the clock. “I’d rather just get it over with. I know they are going to have me up there for days,” she set her empty cup and plate down on the coffee table, knocking the remnants of their card game from the night before askew, then curled her legs up under her on the couch. “It’s not too long, I mean,” she paused, “it’s only a few hours altogether. I can do it.”

“Just a few hours,” Gaz agreed with a small nod as he looked at her. It was a few hours at a time, but he knew she’d be worn down for much longer than he had. “I’ll be there the whole time, front row,” he smiled a bit before grabbing her to pull her closer. “You won’t be alone,” his hand slipped gently under her towel, his fingers splaying over the still-damp skin of her stomach, over the barely-there swell in her lower abdomen.

It had been a pure accident. The stress of their life had caused Olivia to lose track of her medication and Gaz wasn’t always the best at fishing for condoms in the heat of the moment. The birth control was supposed to be preventing the risk of pregnancy anyway. But one thing led to another and Olivia missed a period. They chalked it up to stress and moved on with their lives. Then the next one didn’t come and the morning sickness started. It had been a short moment of panic followed by overjoy and frantic doctor appointments to make sure everything was alright. Not worried about pregnancy Olivia hadn’t been careful with what she ate or drank and Gaz had continued to smoke around her.

All was well thankfully, and now she was four months along. Gaz had been taking care of Olivia, doing everything and anything she needed. The morning sickness had abided for the most part but he knew the nerves had brought it all back up again. The doctors warned Olivia to not let the stress get to her because it would affect the baby and she was doing everything in her power to remain calm. Such as staying away from the news, drinking tea, light exercising, and getting back into her old favorite hobby of reading.

“Remember, he can’t touch you anymore,” Gaz said gently as he tilted her head up to look at him with his other hand. “Never again. There is nothing he can do to you, you’re safe and I’ll make sure it stays that way,” he smiled as she leaned up to kiss him, her head nodding lightly as she grabbed at his thigh. “You should probably go get ready,” he said quietly after a few minutes of holding her.

“So should you,” Olivia answered as she pulled the towel off her head and dropped it behind the couch. “Come on,” she said as she rose from the couch, not bothering to grab at the towel that unraveled from the tucked knot at her chest and let it fall to the floor. “If we hurry you can help get out some of this nervous energy,” she taunted as Kyle looked up at her from the couch, his eyebrows raised high as his eyes raked over her body.

“Last night not enough?” He asked though it was just a tease because he was already standing and clicking off the television. He followed her into the bedroom, his hands sliding over her hips from behind as she paused at the bed. Olivia reached up behind her to snake her hand behind Kyle’s neck to pull him down to kiss her shoulder.

“Never enough,” Olivia answered with a satisfied sigh as he kissed at that soft spot where her shoulder met her neck. She grabbed one of his hands and guided it to her center and groaned as his fingers found exactly what she wanted, arching her back against him.

“Should have said something earlier,” Gaz growled against her neck feeling just how ready she was for him. “Could have taken my time,” he said as he gently rubbed at her clit, smirking as she ground her hips back against him, using the movement to give herself more pressure. “Really drawn this out,” he nipped at her ear before she pulled away from him and bent forward, propping her hands on the edge of the bed, before turning to look back at him.

“You can draw it out later,” she breathed out as she watched him peel off his boxers and the undershirt he was wearing. These days she was always ready for him, the desire to climb him as soon as he walked in the door from work was almost its own form of torture. She knew it was probably the hormones coursing through her body but she also knew it was the love for him, and the love she knew he had for her. “Please,” she whined as Kyle bent over and kissed the middle of her spine, working his way up between her shoulders.

“Patience love,” he answered as he brushed the still-wet hair off her back before sliding his hands around her front to grab her breasts. They were already pleasantly swollen and he grinned when she groaned as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, biting down on her shoulder blade. There was an older hickey there that had begun to fade and Kyle sucked at the abused spot gently.

It had taken Olivia a long while to be comfortable like this, her trauma from what Henry did to her made this position nearly impossible for her in the beginning. Kyle had taken his time, letting her guide him as she worked to take back her own body. He had kissed every inch of skin on her back, let his hands gently rub over the skin as she laid on her stomach in bed, and pulled her hips up back toward him. She had panicked a few times and he quickly switched tactics but then one day she asked him to take her like this. Had arched up to him and practically begged him and Kyle had, his hands holding her hips as she set the pace. When he managed to get her to come twice on her hands and knees, praising and lovingly holding her through it, she had let go of that final hold Henry had over her body.

“Kyle,” Olivia breathed out as Kyle finally pushed into her, his hand gently pushing her shoulder blades down so her face was pressed into the mattress. Her hands gripped hard at the edge of the bed as he set a quick pace and she whined, closing her eyes to enjoy the rapid slapping sounds their bodies made. He kept one hand on her hip as the other found her clit again and she began to pant, doing her best to not be too loud for the poor neighbors. The flat was old and the walls were thin but he kept hitting that spot that made her cry out with each thrust.

“Oli,” Kyle groaned as he felt her clamping around him. “Fuck love,” he grabbed at her shoulder to keep her pressed back against him, his movements had pushed her too far away from his liking. She keened at the pressure and he bent over her back to roughly kiss at the side of her face as he rolled his hips. He ground into her as she rolled back into him and he felt her release as she gasped into the sheets, one of her hands stretching far out in front of her on the bed as she slumped further into the sheets. “There you go,” he grinned as her body became lucid coming down from the high he had just given her. “One more for me, give me one more before we go,” he goaded and Olivia nodded before she pressed up on her hands fully, extending her arms.

At this angle he could rock her against him, her hands able to give her leverage to push back. He wasn’t going to last in this position, her body was still fluttering around him and he could feel her cum on the tops of his thighs as he pushed even deeper. She was moaning with abandon now as he thrust hard, almost pulling out fully before pushing back in to the hilt. She helped him move her body, rolling her hips and arching her back up a bit to let him get that little bit further in until he couldn’t go anymore. He was afraid he was going to leave bruises on her hips as he bullied her body but he couldn’t help it, and the way Olivia was begging him to keep going he knew she couldn't care less.

“Fuck, fucking hell,” Kyle groaned out as he felt his release coming, “fuck yes…just keep moving,” he instructed, begged, as she rocked her body back against him on her own volition. “Just like that,” he looked down watching as she fucked herself on him. He heard her cry out with another release and her movements became frantic and that was the final thing he needed as she slid over him. He came hard, his hands sliding down to her thighs to hold her fast against him to fill her with his spend as deeply as he could so it would remain there.

When she stilled and caught her breath Gaz gently pulled out, pressing kisses down her back before standing up and tugging her to the bathroom to get ready. They readied in relative silence, smiling at one another in the mirror as Kyle shaved and she curled her hair up into a French knot. When she picked out a simple black dress Gaz zipped up the back for her and smoothed his hand around her front. He rested his hand over her belly as he looked at her in the mirror while she put on a soft dusting of pink lipstick. Then when she finished, she straightened his tie, dark purple, to go with the lilac button-down he had selected just for her.

“Let’s go put that final nail in his coffin,” Gaz said as he picked up her hand and kissed the back of it before they got out of the car at the courthouse. Olivia let out a steadying breath before hooking her arm in Kyle’s elbow as he led her up the steps, her head held high ignoring the cameras and questions as she walked. Her lawyer had advised her not to speak to any media, not until it was over, and Olivia had no problem with that. The cameras inside the courthouse were much quieter, the reporters were not allowed to talk as the trial commenced.

When Henry was led in, Olivia stiffened in her seat. Kyle placed a comforting hand on her thigh, his thumb rubbing over the skin above her knee that had begun to shake. Henry stared at her when he walked in, his eyes narrowing in that threatening way he always did when he was going to make her pay for some indiscretion. Olivia swallowed but, unlike before, she didn’t look away. She held his gaze defiantly, using Kyle’s silent strength and support next to her to not back down. She knew Kyle was also staring right at Henry and for the first time, Henry was the one to look away from Olivia first.

“You’ve got this. I’m so proud of you,” Kyle said quietly into Olivia’s ear as the government lawyers came to get her and led her to the stand. She did her best not to shake as she took her seat and when the questions began, she held her ground. She didn’t waver from her story, didn’t let the tears that burned behind her eyes fall, and in moments of nearly breaking she glanced at Kyle. He was positioned right in her view, angled so she could easily see his supportive smile, and she found herself swelling with pride and love for him all over again.

Kyle had always been there. Always. Even when she pushed him away, wounded him, tried to break him so he wouldn’t come back to her for his own safety, he remained resolute. When she didn’t deserve his help, he still gave it. When she thought she would completely fall off the edge, he was there holding her hand and pulling her back. Whatever she needed from him, he gave freely and without question. Her hand slid unconsciously over her stomach as she watched Kyle, who grinned wider at her movement. A child was not something they had even remotely discussed, but the moment it came into their lives, Kyle dove headfirst into preparing, with zero hesitation. That was him though—no fear, no holding back. Her steadfast soldier.

Henry was sentenced to the highest extent of the law after being found guilty on all charges. The trial had taken months but Olivia’s weeks-long testimony washed away any questions of his guilt. He was locked away in a high-security prison, his family money liquidated to pay all his debts and the civil suits that were mounted against him. More and more people were arrested and tried as evidence kept mounting but Olivia and Kyle weren’t needed for those trials. They had done their duty and put the ringleader away, putting an end to his attempt to run the world.

It took years, but Olivia and Kyle were finally free from Henry and could start the life they had wanted before he interfered. It was a hard-fought victory that had almost killed them both, but in the end, Henry had finally lost at his own game. He was left to rot in a cell for all the atrocities he committed, while the world moved on without him, slowly wiping him from their memories.

And as Kyle held Olivia on the couch in their run-down apartment two months after Henry's sentence, laughing as he spoon-fed her yet another scoop of his ice cream because she whined that it tasted better, he knew this was exactly where they were supposed to be.

[starlightvld]

Yet another AMAZING piece by @kibagib!! This time, it's a sneak peek for chapter 1 of my new angsty soapghost fic Broken Bones and Shattered Hearts.

The lighting, the composition (the way John is being pulled out of the frame by someone else!!!), and the colors are all perfect. Thank you so much, Kiba!

I can't wait to share the first chapter with everyone!

[sgt-tombstone]

I love how silly goofy MacMillan is (or could’ve been bc all of his funniest quotes were cut 😭)

[trensu]

chrissy the vampire slayer

Chrissy screamed. She KNEW taking the shortcut was a bad idea. A cheerleader in the woods after dark by herself? That's the start of at least three different horror movies, she's pretty sure. But Jason had ditched her after winning the game for some victory party with the rest of his basketball buddies and he had been her ride home.

A hulking man pounded after her. Chrissy pushed her legs to run faster, faster. It was a miracle she hadn't tripped over a branch or gotten her foot caught in one of the many hidey-holes the cute little forest critters burrowed into ground. This was a stupid way to die, she berated herself. Jason hadn't even gotten the winning shot in, the dick. It was the upperclassman, Steve Harrington, who did that but Jason was such a suck up that of course he immediately followed Steve to the stupid party like the world's stupidest dog.

How had the man not caught up with her yet? He easily had a foot on her in height. She chanced a look over her shoulder and screamed again as she saw he was still determinedly chasing her.

She broke into a clearing. Except it wasn't a clearing, it was a graveyard because why not make it easier for the creep to hide her body after murdering her? A hysterical giggle got caught in her throat as she quickly came up to a gravestone. Her momentum was not going to allow her to swerve around it without toppling over and then it would be lights out for her forever.

She took a wild leap, closing her eyes in an effort to brace for the inevitable collision, but shockingly she bounded over it like a freaking star track runner. The man behind her crashed into it but before Chrissy could thank her lucky stars for the reprieve, the gravestone instead of tripping up her pursuer freaking broke in half under the force of his impact.

Chrissy sobbed and continued to run blindly through the empty cold graveyard. How was she still running? She was panting for breath but out of sheer fear rather than exhaustion. The man didn't sound out of breath at all as he came after her with the doggedness of an oncoming training. If she didn't know better, she'd say he wasn't breathing at all.

She hastily scrubbed her arm over her eyes to clear the tears away and in that moment of temporary blindness, crashed into the side of the mausoleum with a pained grunt. She scrabbled to stay on her feet. The man, seeing her cornered, slowed to a stop before her and she turned to see him clearly for the first time in the clear full moon light.

Chrissy shrieked when she saw his face. It was...wrong. His brow was deformed, making his sickly yellow eyes look sunken into his face. He grinned at her, revealing disturbingly pointed teeth. He chuckled.

"Poor little girl," he said. "All alone after dark."

He prowled closer and Chrissy felt panic overwhelm her. But then another voice broke the night.

"Hey, cheer queen, catch!"

Chrissy and the man with the deformed face both instinctively turned to look at whoever spoke. Something was thrown at her and Chrissy caught it right out of the air like some kind of major league baseball player. Her hand wrapped around the object and some part of her recognized the feel of it.

It triggered something in her mind and, with no input from any higher thought process, Chrissy twirled the thing in her hand and threw herself forward at the man that had terrorized her. The thing pierced right through the man's rib cage like a hot knife through butter. The man only had enough time to look at her with surprised, widened eyes before he burst into a cloud of dust.

She gasped, accidentally breathed in some of the dust, and devolved into a coughing fit. By the time she was able to catch her breath, the person who had thrown the thing at her, had reached her side.

"So, you're the new slayer."

Chrissy looked up to see Eddie the Freak Munson. Her grip on the thing in her hand tightened as her whole body tensed again. Eddie noticed and hopped back hurriedly with his hands raised up. He smiled benignly at her.

"What is this? What did you call me?" Chrissy asked, gesturing the thing in her hand.

"That," Eddie said in a tone far too chipper for the graveyard and pile of dust nearby, "is a stake, commonly used to fight vampires. And you, cheer queen, are now the slayer. Congrats! Now c'mon, you should talk to my uncle."

Eddie bent down to pick up a black tin lunchbox he must've dropped earlier and then started to saunter off.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Chrissy squeaked. "Are you kidding me? I just got attacked and I stabbed someone and, and, and what the fuck is a slayer?"

Chrissy was not proud at how her words ended in a shriek, but the last hour had been very very stressful and she thought she was entitled to a little hysteria. Eddie halted and turned around. His face softened for a moment.

"I get it, it's been really scary so far," he said, more kindly than before. "Being a slayer is no joke, I know, but you'll feel better after talking to my uncle. Hopefully."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chrissy hiccuped. She felt her eyes get teary again. Eddie huffed, his patience clearly wearing thin but trying to keep it under wraps.

"Look, do you want to stay here all alone? In a graveyard? At night?"

"N-no."

"Then let's go."

Eddie stalked off. Chrissy hurried after him, a deathgrip still on the stake he had thrown at her.

"What were you doing here anyway?" she asked. Eddie rattled the lunchbox he held.

"The ambience here is good for business. Jocks keep their transactions short, with minimal threats. Especially after a winning game. Your boytoy do you proud?" Eddie slanted his eyes at her and waggled his eyebrows. Chrissy grimaced at the phrasing but shook her head.

"No, Steve scored the winning shot. I think he's in your grade?"

"Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawled with derision. "Of course he did. Douchebag's going to be insufferable."

"Hey," Chrissy protested. She liked Steve. He was funny and he treated all the cheerleaders respectfully, unlike some of the other jocks. "Steve's a nice guy. He's sweet."

"Ha! Hate to break it to you, cheer queen, but there's no way a guy that loaded and that pretty is anything but a douchebag," Eddie snorted.

"So you think he's pretty?" Chrissy snarked back, feeling oddly defensive of Steve. True, Steve could get...prickly...sometimes, but she'd also seen him stop to help a middle school kid find his missing lizard or whatever it was, so she knew he wasn't all that bad.

Eddie stumbled and his cheeks pinked.

"I never said that," he spluttered, eye darting at her and away very quickly. "It's, it's just what all the girls say about him. And he's always strutting around everywhere expecting everyone to fawn over him like he's some kind of Prince Charming. It's distracting. Uh, annoying, I mean."

Oh. Chrissy thought of the trumpet girl in the school band and how she always managed to catch Chrissy's attention no matter what she was doing. The way the girl smiled at her bandmates, the way her brow furrowed while playing...Chrissy felt herself flush, too. Well, that was something to tuck away in a mental box to think about later. Much later. Like, maybe in ten years later. She wondered if Eddie the Freak Munson had a mental box like hers too.

The silence stretched awkwardly between them as they exited the graveyard. Eddie opened the door to his van and bowed dramatically at her as she levered herself in. He made his way around the vehicle and clambered into the driver's seat. The old thing started up on the second try. As Eddie jolted them along the empty road and headed towards the trailer park, it occurred to Chrissy she should ask.

"Why would your uncle be able to help me?"

"You mean aside from being the best guy in all of Hawkins? He used to be a Watcher. He knows how all this goes."

That answered absolutely nothing. Chrissy frowned but kept quiet. She had a feeling Eddie wouldn't say any more about it until they'd met with Wayne Munson anyway.

[teecupangel]

What if Desmond was one of the shadow soldiers in CoD? Like, he's really good at what he does, so becomes like the right hand man, but when 141 is betrayed, turns on the Americans because 'fuck this shit, this aint what I signed up for'

Shadow Company, in general, has always been more on the side of morally ambiguous since the only time we see them is when they’re working for Shepherd (in both OG and Reboot games) and he’s more on the morally gray area than a full-on villain so, yeah, Desmond could totally be part of Shadow Company.

Hell, instead of being a bartender, he could have found his way into becoming one of the Shadow Company’s recruits in the first place and it would have worked.

They’re mercs for hires but there seemed to be some kind of camaraderie going on among them, most notably seen when Graves said “These guys on the ground... Mexican Special Forces, 141, they are your brothers now. You treat 'em like your own and let's get this done, yeah?” in the mission Close Air and he does have the habit of calling others “brother” which would resonate with Desmond’s desire for a place to belong (especially 16 years old Desmond).

Also, their equivalent to “Roger” is “Yup-yup” and that will never stop sounding both funny and adorable to me.

In a scenario where Desmond becomes a member of Shadow Company, a setup we can use is him quickly rising the ranks and getting the attention of Graves, building some form of bond between them that is both friendship-forged-in-fire and bash-brothers that soon turns him into Graves’ (and Shadow Company’s) unofficial second-in-command.

You can even ‘transplant’ Desmond into Shadow Company as Velikan since Velikan never showed his face and there’s no real information about him. (Velikan is from the multiplayer section of Modern Warfare 2019)

Desmond wouldn’t balk at any questionable methods Shadow Company even does, especially if he joined the PMC at sixteen.

So Desmond turning on Shadow Company during the end of Dark Waters/start of Alone?

It could work if Desmond built a stronger bond with 141 and that is more possible if Desmond joined Shadow Company later (like, say, after the whole Grand Temple deal.) This is the idea that "fuck this shit, this ain't what I signed up for" can definitely be included.

Otherwise, Desmond would only see it as another mission and the only reason why he would take a stand would be if he believes that Graves and the others are getting out of hand (like, for example, them shooting on Soap and Ghost when they were only ordered to shoo them away or detain them if they do not comply).

So yeah, Desmond would betray Shadow Company if he believes they’re in the wrong or if he develops a more close relationship with 141 but his thoughts on what the wrong side is isn’t as clear cut as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ due to his Assassin background.

And if we were to set this up with Desmond joining Shadow Company as a sixteen years old, betraying Shadow Company would be a hardsell at that point as they would have become something akin to a family to him.

And, if he does betray them, he would definitely get some to his side, creating some kind of civil war between two factions in Shadow Company in the middle of Las Almas.

This is also the idea where Desmond would be more "don't make me do this, Graves..." and it would definitely have more angst.

.

.

.

I’d also just like to note something…

And this part would also be counted as a bit of a spoiler for The Shadow’s Endgame so skip this one if you don’t want to be spoiled:

Shadow Company’s brutality during Las Almas? They only specifically target corrupted officials and police officers, those in the pockets of the cartels.

Yes, they’re definitely war crimes and they do terrorize the citizens (especially the family of their targets) but, at the same time…

It’s not exactly that different from how the Brotherhood operates. They’re not stealthy about it and that was by choice as we have to assume a PMC like them should have the capabilities to be stealthy if they wanted to be, they simply chose not to.

Perhaps they wanted to make an example of Las Almas.

Perhaps they wanted to show the cartels their work.

They attacked a hostile territory and took down the corrupted high-ranking officials…

Kinda like how Assassins used to operate before the modern era.

You might even say…

Shadow Company is what the Brotherhood could have been had they continued to uphold a more militaristic approach and idolized Ezio Auditore’s liberation of Rome.

[patrice-bergerons]

Tom Waits' Green Grass is a janto song if I've ever heard one and ouch, I have now hurt my own feelings 😭

Lay your head where my heart used to be Hold the earth above me Lay down on the green grass Remember when you loved me

Come closer don't be shy Stand beneath a rainy sky The moon is over the rise Think of me as a train goes by

Clear the thistles and brambles Whistle 'Didn't He Ramble' Now there's a bubble of me And it's floating in thee

Stand in the shade of me Things are now made of me The weather vane will say It smells like rain today

God took the stars and he tossed 'em Can't tell the birds from the blossoms You'll never be free of me He'll make a tree from me

Don't say goodbye to me Describe the sky to me And if the sky falls, mark my words We'll catch mocking birds

[alamogirl80]

LAST LINE CHALLENGE

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

I got tagged by @nikscribbles And since I've been doing snips of upcoming "And I'll Follow the Light in You" I decided I'd do some art last lines. There are two, since I've been working on multiple CoD arts

Ghost's nose on his skull mask (idk why that is blurry) and the definition lines of Ghost's bicep and triceps in the second one.

No pressure tags: @lizardberries @cacodaemonia @blackkatmagic @captora @weatherbane

[egginfroggin]

What kind of chaos is Emmet often causing in Jubilife ?

Mostly minor shenanigans with the little twins, akin to what he and Sabi do in I Told You So -- taking advantage of other people's lack of attention to relocate their belongings (that coat you set aside? it's in a tree now), replacing all the condiment containers in the Wallflower with containers of wasabi only (spice spice spice spice spice spice spice), and other such minor hassles.

More major shenanigans that Emmet partakes in include using Legendaries in battles at the dojo (terrifying for onlookers, but boy does Zisu love the challenge), and giving every person who requested that he find them a pokemon for a job an (tamed) alpha version of that pokemon (that man who works the fields is surrounded by alphas).

And helping Vessa spook people like the little ghostie she is.

He is... somewhat hesitant to spread too much mischief on his own due to his somewhat precarious position as an outsider.

But, I mean, hey, if the man who works the fields didn't want the pokemon who knows Hydro Pump to be an alpha Gyarados, then he really should have been more specific.

(Pesselle is the only exception to the alpha-version-of-a-requested-pokemon shenanigans because she wanted to specifically use Croagunk poison as a medicine, and nobody's quite sure if an alpha's venom is more potent or not. Thus, to prevent any... unfavorable results... Emmet just gave her a normal little Croagunk).

Thank you for the ask! I hope that this satisfied your curiosity, and that you have a good day. <3

[indigosunsetao3]

Keeping Lines Blurry

Masterlist

Taskforce 141 was assigned to help with security at a high profile political meeting in a joint effort with other world players. When things go wrong and militant operatives infiltrate the gala the taskforce is forced to step into the driver's seat to get the British government officials safe. Many lives were lost but the 141 managed to save those that they were assigned to protect, including a woman from Gaz's past.

Now that the initial terror is over the real work begins to figure out exactly what happened. Who attacked the gala and what do they want? And, most importantly, are there more targets?

Gaz will need to put all of his training to the test to be able to get the job done and walk away in one piece physically and mentally. But can he leave the past in the past?

Whole work can be found on AO3 - IndigoSunset This story is complete.

Chapter 1 - It's Been A Long Time A gala is bombed and Gaz runs into a familiar face from the past. Chapter 2 - All For Show Everything isn't as it seems with Olivia. Chapter 3 - London Bound Gaz has been assigned to escort Olivia and Henry back to their home in London. Chapter 4 - Safehouse Henry and Olivia's house is compromised so Gaz has to take them to a safehouse instead. (Also, a fanart/animation by @ahopelesspedantic for Chapter 4 can be found here.) Chapter 5 - Security Protocols Gaz brings Henry and Olivia home and learns of the new security detail. While preparing for his new assignment he gets a message from a mysterious number. Chapter 6 - Kitchen Conversations Gaz has a dinner and dessert with Abby while Olivia tries her best to not fall apart. Chapter 7 - Digging for Information Gaz continues to dig for information about Henry with help from the mysterious texter. Olivia reaches out one night begging for help. Chapter 8 - Down By the River Gaz and Olivia have a heated conversation and some revelations are made; ones Gaz suspected and some he wish he didn't know. Chapter 9 - Under the Overpass Henry makes Olivia and Gaz pay for their perceived indiscretions against him. Chapter 10 - Water Retrieval After being dumped in the Thames Gaz struggles to survive. Chapter 11 - Missing Gaz has officially been reported missing and Olivia has to decide what she will do with the information she knows. Chapter 12 - Summit All the world's leaders have gathered for a summit to avoid another potential war. Little do they know the threat is already there. Chapter 13 - Deadly Secret Despite precautions Henry's plan is put into motion and not everyone is saved. Chapter 14 - Revive Gaz saves Olivia and they go into hiding. Olivia struggles with everything that has happened, including her injury, but Gaz helps her through it. Chapter 15 - Cover of Darkness Gaz and Olivia find comfort in the dark. When daylight breaks and reality creeps in however, they both struggle to figure out what comes next. Chapter 16 - Bait The team has a plan to lure Henry out of wherever he's hiding. Gaz is not a fan of the plan but he's not given much choice. Chapter 17 - Burden of Proof Gaz and Olivia find the evidence they need to take down Henry, but not without some resistance. Chapter 18 - Steadfast The 141 finally got Henry right where they wanted him, coming out one step ahead instead of two behind. In the aftermath of Henry's takedown, Gaz and Olivia navigate their second chance at life together. And to wrap up KLB another super cute a fanart/animation by @ahopelesspedantic here. I think it portrays Kyle and Olivia perfectly 💙