Chapter Text
It was quiet. Too quiet in your opinion.
Most times when you were in the field it meant that everything was about to turn ass up and someone was going to get hurt.
Sitting with your sniper in position you waited patiently for the target to come into view.
The wind softly accentuates the quiet noises of the forest around you. You can hear small sounds of the wildlife around you just going about their lives not understanding how cruel this world could be.
Trying to block out any distractions you shift back into position, eyeing the dingy looking building in front of you. The walls were decrepit and the earth seemed to smite its existence entirely as it started to swallow it back into itself.
No movement. You pull back from your sight to adjust your elbows for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight.
Your ribs were sore from lying on your stomach for so long. Back aching to be stretched and bent back into its normal posture.
Now was not the time though, you felt a shift in the air, like a sixth sense that now; after several painstaking hours of watching and waiting that now was the time for something to happen.
Checking your sights again you finally see movement, a shadow crosses over the window, there's a small light coming in from the left.
You’re ready, at this point the act of killing is nothing more to you than your purpose in this world.
A highly trained military weapon of mass destruction.
The target comes back into view, the shot is good. You exhale slowly and pull the trigger.
The target goes down, you radio into your commanding officer, “Target eliminated.”
You hear static and rustling in your earpiece, “Good work soldier, evac is 2 clicks out.”
“Yes sir,” you respond curtly wanting to just get out of the mud you’ve been laying in for the past 6 hours.
Your legs are slightly numb from the lack of movement, you stand slowly shaking them out to regain some feeling and pack up.
The chopper descends slowly pushing the trees back around you. They throw a rope down and you start climbing as the chopper begins to leave the LZ.
A soldier helps pull you in and you take a seat, grabbing your headset from the wall behind you.
The pilot voice echoes through your head. Something about when you’ll make it back to the base but you’re not paying attention.
The debrief is short and before long you are left to your own devices in your barrack.
It’s simple, a bed, a desk, a small light and a bathroom attached. It’s clean, not an object out of place.
You never bothered to carry materialistic things with you, you learned very quickly to not get attached to anything because it could be taken away from you in the blink of an eye.
Sitting on the edge of your bed you unlace your boots. Still covered in mud and sweat and lord knows what else you make your way over to the shower.
You don’t bother with the light, the darkness surrounds you as you step into the warm water.
It stings as it washes over a still healing knife wound from your last mission. You accept the pain graciously. A reminder that you made it out alive unlike some of your fellow soldiers.
You duck your head under the hot water. The noise of the world silences and you give yourself a second to accept that another life has claimed part of your soul. Or what's left of it.
You don’t stay there long, only ever giving yourself a moment to grieve the loss of your own life with another.
The tile is cold beneath your feet as you step out. You wrap your towel around yourself and change into a shirt and shorts before crawling into bed.
Staring at the ceiling you wonder when sleep will come to you tonight, if at all. It seems to be a rarity in your life to have the simple comfort of a good night’s rest these days.
You awake to pounding at your door.
You quickly check your phone reading the time. You have only been in and out of sleep for an hour or two. The pounding persists.
You walk over to the door to see your commander. Squinting in the fluorescent lights that shine into your eyes you try to blink away the brightness.
“Pack up your things, you’re being transferred.”
It was short and curt, no room for questions, no time to process. He leaves quickly and you stand there dumbfoundedly for a moment before closing the door and turning to gather what little belongings you had.
Walking down the quiet halls of the base you find your way to his office. You set down your bags by the door as you walk into his office.
“Take a seat Ranger. I don’t have a lot of time to explain,” he says hurriedly.
You sit in the uncomfortable chair that faces his desk. It’s cluttered with paperwork and files, the monitor dusty and the edges chipped from wear.
“You are being moved to a new task force. You’ve been requested by commanding officer John Price of the 141. Your new contract will be negotiated once you land, your flight leaves in an hour.”
You stay still in your seat, mulling over the words just spoken to you. You had heard of the 141 in passing throughout the years, an elite task force of only the best of the best. They were known for being silent and deadly weapons of the military, only calling for the highest level threats.
You nod, accepting the change without question.
Your commander walks around to the front side of his desk and leans against it in front of you, “It’s been a pleasure working with you Ranger, best of luck.”
He stands again turning away from you and walking back to his seat, “Dismissed.”
You stand, leaving for the tarmac to wait. The air was crisp, the sun still not awake yet to greet you as you waited patiently.
The flight over was long, a few connecting flights over to the UK before you finally made it to your new home.
You were tired, exhausted really. Only running on a few hours of sleep the past few days. You were starting to feel delirious as it became harder to function due to the weight of your head and limbs.
You grab your things and step out of the helicopter, thankfully it was late at night when you arrived.
A man was standing a few meters out from the chopper, you walked over to greet him. He extends his hand toward you which you accept, “Captain John Price, pleasure to meet you.”
You nod in acknowledgement, you weren’t much of a talker, only when necessary.
“Welcome to the 141 we have been waiting for you,” he says, turning to guide you inside the base.
The lights are bright, the hallways have a slight echo to them. He leads you down a series of turns and doors before reaching his office.
It’s modest, a few books tucked away on a shelf, a fishing hat sitting on the corner of his desk, a picture frame facing the back wall.
You sit, and wait.
He comes around to take his own seat, pulling out a small file from the drawer of his desk. It’s thin, only a few pages underneath the cover.
He looks up and clears his throat, “I’ve been trying to get you over here for quite some time now, your stats are impressive. I know you’ll make a great asset to the force.” He shuffles a few pages around to face you.
It’s all boring legal paperwork that you’ve been through several times before. You moved around a lot, different forces needing your expertise often. You sign a few pages and pass them back to him silently.
“Not much of a talker I see.” He says slightly nodding his head. “No worry, we have another like you here too.”
His eyes leave you and turn to look behind you. A hulking man in a skull mask approaches the door. You turn slightly in your seat to get a better look, face expressionless as you take him in.
He’s tall, broad, heavily covered and in tactical gear. His eyes meet yours briefly before looking at Price.
Price throws his hands up, “Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you.” He gestures toward you then to the man, “Ranger, this is Ghost, your lieutenant and commanding officer.”
You steal another glance out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you, it set your teeth on edge. You turn back to Price looking at him blankly.
Price speaks up again, “What did you need son?”
Ghost stands stiffly for a moment before speaking, “Didn’t mean to bother you sir, just wanted to see if you had any updates from Laswell.”
You listen, still turned away from the man, he had a strong british accent.
“Not yet, should have some in a few hours. In the meantime why don’t you show Ranger to her room, she’s off the left side across from Soap,” he says standing and placing your paperwork back in the folder and setting it back into the drawer he pulled it from. “It’s been a long day I’m going to turn in.”
He stands, giving you a warm smile as he walks past Ghost and out into the hall disappearing from sight.
You stand, gathering your things and turn to face Ghost. He stares, you stare back. It’s hard to tell what color his eyes are in this light. Most of his face remains in shadow.
He grunts before turning and leading you in the opposite direction that Price walked. It’s a short walk, his strides were long making it hard to keep up with him.
He stopped suddenly before turning to you, “Call time is 0600 don’t be late,” he stated coldly.
You had to tilt your head back to look at him properly, you nod before entering the room. You throw a quiet, “thank you,” behind you as you enter but it falls on deaf ears as your voice gets drowned out by the sound of your door swinging shut behind you.
You let out a small huff before assessing the room. It was nicer than any of the other rooms you had stayed in before. The bed was slightly larger than your last, the bathroom was bigger and there was even a closet.
Laying on the nightstand by your bed were a few patches to attach to your tactical gear and a small note folded up next to it.
You sit, grabbing the note and unfolding it, ‘welcome to the team Ranger.’ A few signatures littered the bottom of the page. Soap, Gaz, Roach, and Price. Soap’s name had a small smiley face next to it which made you smile slightly at the childlike gesture.
You placed the note back on the bedside table and began unpacking your things. By now you were moving with sluggish movements. You had already dropped two of your shirts trying to get them out of your duffle. You figured it would just be best to go to bed and finish in the morning.
Your alarm went off way too soon for your liking, a slight groan escaped your lips before you forced your eyes open.
Dropping your legs off the side of your bunk you got up. You showered quickly and got dressed in simple combat attire. You reached for the handle and stepped out into the hallway.
It took a second to register that you had absolutely no idea where you were on base, too tired last night to make note of any of the hallways or rooms you had passed along the way to your room.
Thankfully you heard voices from a little ways down the hall and followed them.
“Nah, ye ain’t got nothing on my charm ye gilly. She’s gonn adore me,” you heard before turning the corner and finding yourself in the mess hall.
As you looked up you were met with several pairs of eyes staring right at you, it made you uncomfortable but you kept a straight face, keeping your composure even though the feeling of all these people watching you made you want to turn and go back to your room.
A man with a mohawk strided toward you, “Aye there she is, names Johnny but you can call me Soap,” the Scottsman says, extending a hand to you.
You shake it, making brief eye contact before casting your eyes downwards toward the beat up tiles of the mess hall.
The scott moves closer to you, invading your personal space and goes to put an arm around your shoulder, you quickly turn your head and take a step back, glaring at him.
He leans back and retracts his arm, throwing his hands up in a surrendering motion, “sorry lass didn’t mean te spook ya there.”
He quickly recovers from his mistake by walking toward the rest of the men sitting at the table.
He stands behind them, placing his hands on the man's shoulder, “This is Gaz.”
Gaz smiles softly at you giving you a small wave.
Soap points to the guy to his right. The man speaks up, “Hi, I’m Roach.”
Soap steps back and turns to you, glancing to the corner of the hall where Ghost sits looking over at the group, “and that’s the lieutenant.”
You don’t look over to meet his gaze, you didn’t have to, you knew he was watching.
You meet all of their gazes before walking over to join them, “It’s nice to meet you all.” You say quickly, sitting down.
The next hour consisted of small talk between the guys, you didn’t say much but you appreciated them trying.
Eventually you were all called into the conference room by Price. He stood in front of a large screen going over the mission details and filling you in on what you had missed.
You sat toward the back of the oval table, the rest of the team scattered around in what you could assume were their usual seats. The lights were dim and the room was cold.
You didn’t see the Lt. sitting in the room but you felt that gnawing feeling that someone was watching. You tried to shake it off and just brush it off as nerves, trying to focus on the mission details but it was making you anxious.
You turned your head to the back of the room and were met with a piercing pair of eyes on you. There he was, leaning against the back wall of the conference room with his arms crossed.
He was wearing a tight fitted black shirt and tactical vest, combat pants and had a small knife in his left hand, idly spinning it in his grasp. You could barely make out the details of the tattoos that littered his arm in the dim lightning, tracing the tattoo all the way up to the cuff of his shirt before meeting his gaze again.
He stood for a moment longer before nodding his head at you as a way to say ‘pay attention kid.’
You felt your eyes squint slightly at his cocky demeanor but turned around nonetheless and listened to the rest of Price’s debrief.
It finished within the next half hour, Price wrapping it up with a quick, “Dismissed.”
Everyone filed out and headed for the gym for training. You changed into a black fitted shirt and compression shorts.
Gaz and Roach were sparring on the mat, Soap was sitting on the bench with a towel around his neck and a water bottle in his hand. Ghost was over in the back of the room on the bench press.
As you walked in, all eyes were on you, something you figured you would have to get used to being the only woman on the team.
“Ay lass,” Soap called out, he always seemed to be the first one to notice you in the room. “Wanna see if ya can take me down after these idiots stop messing around,” he hollered.
Gaz and Roach looked at each other in a silent agreement before stepping off of the mat. You walked over to Soap slowly, swaying your hips a little more than you normally would due to the clothes you are wearing. You watched as his eyes followed your body as it moved.
Bending down to be eye level with the man you smile softly, you reach up to cup the side of face in your small hands before reaching up further to grab onto his ear and drag him over to the mat.
“Hey hey what in the hell are ya doin, god dammit lassie tha ain’t even fair play,” Soap yelled as you dragged him the last few steps onto the mat.
You release him letting out a small chuckle and get into position with your arms up and your legs spread out for balance. “You ready?” you say cheekily.
Soap stands at the ready, watching you, eyeing you up, “I’m not going to go easy on ya now Bonnie.”
“Good, now I won’t have to pull my punches big boy,” you say in a joking tone.
Soap wasn’t really mad, if anything he didn’t mind that you were woman enough to drag him out and call him on his bullshit.
He lunges forward to jab at your side, you block it and spin out to get behind him. You land a kick to his ass sending him forward momentarily before he regains his balance and turns around. He drops low and barrels into you, sending both of you tumbling down into the mat below.
He is on top of you now, the sheer weight of his body holding you down and locking you into place. You try to slide out but it seems that it’s not going to work, instead you wrap your arms over the back of his neck and pull down while pushing up with your legs throwing the man off balance with a grunt.
You slide out, quickly turning to jump on his back while he falls forward, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. You lean hard to the left making both of you fall back again, this time with your back to the mat and Soap falling onto your chest.
It hurts momentarily having all that weight come crashing down onto your chest but you keep your arms tight around his neck.
He tries to move but the grip you have on him is airtight, nothing was going to make you release.
After a few moments you could feel him start to get sluggish from the lack of oxygen and he reached up to tap out. You immediately released your hold on him, pushing him upright to get more air.
He coughed a few times, regaining his breath before turning to you, “damn bonnie, I didn’t expect all of that from ya.”
You smile, standing up to give him a hand up, “They never do,” you respond with a smile.
You hoist him up, letting out a huff of air as you do. He stands and lets go of your hand turning to grab his water off the bench. You suddenly feel all the blood drain from your face, your fingers beginning to tingle slightly.
You blink trying to regain vision, you try to stay still so as to not throw yourself off balance and wait for the moment to pass. The lightheadedness seems to just be an annoying side effect of not really sleeping or eating much these days.
It’s not that you didn’t want to sleep per say, it's just that every time you tried you only saw the faces of those that you had brutally killed, the friends you lost, and the onslaught of blood and human remains that you had to step over in the field.
You were not a little girl anymore, playing with toys and hugging your parents before bed. No, you were one of the highest ranking military assets in the world. A ruthless killer, a nameless woman with her only purpose to be used as the government pleases.
You blinked away the last of the blackness covering your vision taking a step forward and off the mat. The boys cheered you on for your victory throwing a few jokes Soap’s way making him wave off their criticism.
“To die in a woman's arms like that would be a fucking honor,” he threw over his shoulder at Gaz and Roach.
“Amen to that,” Gaz shouted back, walking away with Roach.
Soap retreated back to the locker room to shower off the sweat and grime of the training with the guys. You shook out your arms, the strain already setting in from taking on a man of Soap’s size.
You started waking toward the bench before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It startled you at first not hearing anyone walk up to you. You turned, meeting Ghost’s chest, taking a step back and you looked up at him, “Lieutenant.”
“Get back on the mat soldier, you’re going again.” He turned making his way to the mat. His figure and size didn’t diminish as he walked away, he was still a hulking mass of flesh and muscle.
“Quit starin’ and get your ass on this mat before I have to come drag you on it.” He said gruffly not turning around to face you.
You hurriedly made your way over, taking up position and watching him. You both circled each other, watching each other’s movements and steps carefully. It was a game of chicken, who was going to strike first.
You knew you had no shot in overpowering him, you saw what he could bench. He was easily lifting and throwing around three times your bodyweight. You were royally fucked. But you had to at least try to land a few punches.
“C’mon princess I don’t have all day,” he taunted.
It was hard to make out the expressions under the mask, only the whites of his eyes were visible under all the black paint. He looked inhuman, like a demon sent from hell to wreak havoc on the land of the living.
You readied yourself and lunged, swinging into his rib cage. He blocked it, sending a punch into your shoulder, knocking you back. You came back at him faking a swing and wrapping your leg behind him and jerking it forward. He started to fall and a smirk made its way across your face before feeling him latch onto your shirt pulling you down too.
He quickly recovered, forcing you under him and trapping you between his legs. His body was hot and heavy on yours. You tried to send an elbow up into his chin but he grabbed your forearms and pushed them over your head.
He was staring right at you know, your eyes blown wide at the quick action. You tried to move using all the strength you had left, your breathing picked up rapidly, heart pounding in your chest. Panicking.
He leaned in close to your face, a harsh gaze boring into you, “What’s wrong princess? Can’t get up?,” he said smugly.
**Flashback**
“You’re drunk Luke, just knock it off already.” You said trying to finish up the dishes that had been piling up for the past three days.
Cold clammy hands wrapped around your waist, hot breath irritating the back of your neck, “C’mon babe I just had a beer with the guys, what’s the harm?”
Turning off the faucet you moved to grab a towel but you were firmly held in place by Luke’s arms, a hand slowly starting to work it’s way down to the front of your pants, “You know I love how much of a little housewife you are, standing here doing my dishes, making me dinner.”
You reached down disgusted and tried to push his hand away, “I said knock it off!”
You must have started him a little bit in his current state because his hold became looser and you were able to turn around getting out of reach.
Suddenly a hand was on your neck dragging you forward, eyes wide with fear you met his, shining red, full of anger. “You fucking cunt, you think you get to call the shot around here?”
You couldn’t breathe, and out of panic you kneed him in the groin giving you the chance to rip your neck from his hands. You turned, sprinting toward your room, you could hear him yelling back down the hall; his footsteps getting closer.
Run. Run. Run.
Turning a corner and then another you could almost reach out and touch you door before you were falling, slamming into the cold floor with Luke on top of you. He flipped you around, grabbing you hands and holding them above your head, “Thought you could pull a stunt like that and get away with it,” he said, huffing hot air into your face.
Writhing underneath him, wind still knocked out of you all you could do was squirm. You were chocking on the little air you could suck into your lungs, suffocating on the one thing all humans need to live.
“What’s wrong princess? Can’t get up?” He laughed, reaching for his belt and sliding the zipper down.
**
Full panic started to fill your body, it was all consuming, you needed to get out but you couldn’t move, couldn’t think straight. A small whine escaped your throat, you pulled against his hold on your arms. Memories flashed before your eyes being back in that room, back in that place, you couldn’t make out what was real and what was not.
Ghost noticed the shift in your demeanor, his gaze quickly changed from that of anger to concern. He didn’t know what was happening.
You started to thrash under him, “g..get off,” you said quietly, not being about to fully breathe with the panic. Your words came out like you were wounded. It sounded pathetic even to your ears, “..off.” Your voice chocked out.
He quickly released his grip on your arms and leaned back taking some of the weight off your body. You pulled yourself out from under him, hand reaching up to your chest trying to catch your breath.
“What the hell are you on about kid?,” he spoke with a mix of concern and authority.
You couldn’t meet his eyes, too embarrassed and ashamed to speak. You turned and pushed yourself up feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes. You stormed out of the gym before he could grab you.
You kept it together all the way through the halls until you reached an exit door leading you outside to the backside of the base. You practically threw yourself out the door into the cool air. You leaned against the wall, choking back the churning of your stomach.
Your breathing was coming out in labored pants, you couldn’t get enough air in. It was like there was a wall not letting you get any more than just a few small gasps of oxygen in at a time.
You fell to your knees spitting up bile in front of you, head leaning over yourself, an arm stretched out in front of you to maintain balance. You started coughing, then it all came up. You let it all out, the burning sensation in your throat keeping you grounded. Spitting into the dirt you get the rest of it out of your mouth.
Leaning back, letting your back rest against the cool metal of the base. Your eyes were closed, and your breathing started to even out.
Frustrated wasn’t even the word for it, you thought you were over this by now. The panic attacks had stopped for a while, it had been about a year since that even happened. Luke couldn’t touch you any more, but trauma has a funny way of showing up at the worst times.
Sitting with your head against the wall and your arms on your knees you suddenly heard the back door open, your eyes flew open, a hand going to your face to try and wipe the tears away.
You saw a boot step out and when you looked up a wave of relief washed over you, it was Price. He was holding a cigar in his hand and wearing that god awful fishing hat. He turned slightly startled, not expecting to see you.
He quickly assessed the scene before him and his gaze turned soft, “What happened hun?” he said quietly, approaching you slowly as if he would move too quickly he would scare you off like a wild animal.
He tucked his cigar into his vest pocket and crouched down next to you, “let’s get you inside kid, c’mon,” he said gently grabbing your arm and helping you up.
He had read your file, there wasn’t much in it but being a higher ranking officer he got to see all your psych reports and knew what was happening. He carefully wrapped an arm around you and led you inside, making sure to take the back ways so no one would see.
You kept your gaze on the floor the whole way back to your room, listening to the sound of yours and his boots tap against the floor. He opened the door to your room and guided you over to your bed, you sat not caring about your boots dirtying up your covers. He sat down on the end of the bed. “Are you alright kid?”
You kept your head down, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world. “M’ fine sir,” you spoke softly. You glanced up at him, “thanks.” you said with a somber attitude, still embarrassed. You felt weak, fragile. You were a soldier for Christ's sake, you didn’t have time for this shit.
Price opened his mouth like he was about to say something but changed his mind. He stood up, putting a hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner, “Take your time, you’re dismissed from duties for today.” He walked out, shutting the door to your room behind him.
You laid down still in your sweaty gym clothes and closed your eyes not wanting to deal with anything else.
Price called everyone into the conference room to go over a few new updates. Everyone took their normal seats, Gaz and Roach next to each other, Soap across the table, and Ghost lurking in the back of the room.
Soap turned and looked around the room as Price started pulling up the files on his computer, “Sir we’re missing Ranger.”
Price kept his eyes trained on his computer clicking on a file, “Ranger isn’t feeling good, I’ll fill her in later,” he said.
Gaz spoke up, “She alright? She was fine a few hours ago?” he asked, slightly concerned.
“I assure you she’s fine. She’s only been here for a day boys, let her adjust.” He said gruffly.
Ghost looked at Price trying to decipher if he was sugar coating his words. He felt bad but he didn’t know what the hell happened. One second she was fired up and the next like a wounded puppy. She ran out before he could even ask questions.
Ghost slipped out of the conference room unnoticed. For being such a large man he was able to move silently. He walked down the hallway toward your room. Standing at the door he raised his hand to bang on the door, he decided to just knock quietly.
No answer. He knocked again this time louder.
You woke up to hearing knocking on your door, you cracked your eyes open blinking the sleep away. It was darker outside now, the knocking persisted.
You threw your legs off the side of your bed, walking over to the door. You quickly adjusted your clothes and fixed yourself up. You reached for the handle and cracked the door open slightly. You looked up and were met with Ghost’s eyes on you. He looked like he wasn’t expecting you to open the door at all, a slightly shocked expression playing over his eyes.
Silence. It seemed to be the way you both communicated, neither knowing what to say at the moment.
You coughed a little trying to clear your throat, “did you need something sir?” you asked.
He looked down on you, your eyes were slightly swollen, cheeks flushed from sleep, lips red and puffy too. If it were different circumstances he might even say you looked cute like this, “You missed the meeting,” he said, clearing his throat and keeping a cold tone.
You shifted to open the door more, standing up straight, “I know.” You spoke coldly, you didn’t mean for it to come out that harsh but you can’t take it back now.
This must have pissed him off because he turned his head down the hall and let out a scoff before looking back at you, “If you want to be on this team you need to get your shit together kid, we have a mission tomorrow. Can’t have you fucking it up.”
You were taken aback by his words, anger flashing over your face, “Anything else sir,” you bit out. Before he could answer you slammed the door in his face.