Chapter Text
Your entire life, you’d watch those tiny red numbers count down until the inevitable moment you met your soulmate. You’d drift off to sleep imagining how magical the moment would be; sunset on a beach? A bustling street in London?
You’d go off daydreaming, imagining how handsome he would be and how well he’d treat you. It would be perfect.
But now, you watched those last two minutes tick down as you huddled beside your college classmates, crying and terrified. Explosions echoed in your ears as you tightened your arms around your friend June, her sobbing into your shirt and shaking.
An explosion in the next room caused everyone you were with to scream. Rubble and dust rained on you, shards of glass sliced your skin. There should’ve been other things on your mind. Like wondering who was attacking your school and why. How to escape and save your classmates along with you.
But the same thing that’s been on your mind since you knew what those stupid numbers meant was there, front and center.
Were you going to die before you could even meet him?
You closed your eyes tight. There was nothing you could do in this situation. You hugged June in the most comforting way your shaking arms could. At least you were dying alongside your best friend.
You heard heavy footsteps in the next room on the other side of the exploded wall.
“Check for survivors!”
“In there!”
“Shit, civilians!”
You hugged June tighter, terrified. Were they coming to kill you? You could only hope they’d do it quickly. You caught a glimpse of them as three tall figures ran over to the group you were in. They looked like soldiers. Two of them knelt before the first few people in the huddle.
“SAS, ye’r safe. We’re gonna get ye out o’ ‘ere.” Scottish accent. A thick one, at that. You stared at the two as they gently helped people stand one by one. The Scottish one was shorter than the other, with a mohawk that had grown out on the sides. He was bulky, his muscular arms exposed past his tight t-shirt.
The other wasn’t as muscular looking, but he was tall, with dark skin and a worn cap covering his hair. His large eyes made you want to trust him.
Your eyes fell on the third when he spoke. He was standing up, talking in some sort of microphone on his vest. He was tall. You noticed it when they were walking over. He towered over the other two. He was facing away from you, but slowly began to turn to the group. He was wearing a balaclava with a white skull sewn over his eyes. It was splattered with blood.
“Bravo-07 to Watcher,” his voice shocked you. It was deep and gruff, like he’d swallowed gravel, and his accent was thick. Manchester. “Got a group o’ civilians. All seem to be-” He stopped talking when his eyes landed on yours. At that moment, your wrist tingled. You looked down, the numbers on your wrist reading 00:00:00. When you looked up, he
was looking at his wrist, too.
No way.
No fucking way.
-
You sat in the back of an ambulance with June, both of you wrapped in blankets, both of you now bandaged up. Luckily, most of the group only had a few scrapes. The worst injury was someone’s fractured wrist, when they were hit by a large piece of rubble when the wall exploded.
Even now, you stared at the zeroes on your wrist. June looked over at you, then down to your wrist.
Her eyes widened. “Zeroes?!”
You couldn’t help but smile. Even after facing something so traumatic, even with her tear-streaked cheeks and still shaking shoulders, she grabbed your wrist and began questioning you.
“I think it was the big soldier guy. The one with the mask.”
She scanned the parking lot. “I don’t see him,” she said, looking back at you. “Are you gonna be able to see him again?”
“I don’t know,” you said, your heart sinking. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”
“Ye ladies alright?” The Scottish voice surprised you. You and June looked up at the man. His vest had the name J. “Soap” MacTavish printed on it.
“We’re alright,” you said, “thank you.”
“Where’s the big guy?” June asked, and you threw her a shocked look. She didn’t even thank the guy, and he was the one who pried her from your arms and carried her to safety. Even so, the Scot smiled.
“Who, the guy with the mask? Why do you ask?”
“We’re pretty sure he’s her soulmate.” June pointed to you, and his eyes widened.
“No way.” He looked over his shoulder, past the ambulance you sat in. “Ghost? A soulmate?” He muttered to himself.
“You don’t have to bring him here,” you said quickly, regaining the soldier’s attention. “I’m sure you guys are busy.”
“Aye, a li’l.” He smiled. “Didnae catch yer name, lass.” You introduced yourself, as well as June. “Crackin’. Cop lik’ I will be seein’ ye around a li’l.”
You gave a straight-lipped smile, pretending to understand you knew anything he was saying. He bid farewell and left you and June alone again.
You looked out over the demolished school in front of you.
“Why would someone target our school?” You wondered out loud.
June shrugged. “There have been rumors for years that the dean has some strange past. Maybe it’s caught up to him.”
“I guess that’s the only thing that makes sense. But who the hell did he piss off for this to happen?”
“We’ll never know. Unless you go over and flirt up your soulmate.” She pointed, and you followed her finger to the hulking man who was walking towards an exfil truck, the Scottish soldier and two other men with him. The Scot had his arm around his shoulders, shaking him playfully.
“Looks like they’re leaving.” You turned to June and forced a smile. “The universe will work it out. We’ve got our whole lives, and if we really are soulmates, we’ll be brought together in time.”
“You’re way more positive about this than I would be,” June sighed, “Gotta hand it to you.”