✧ H𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬. (𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝘼𝙐) ✧

⚠️ // 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 // 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 // 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 //⚠️

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Modern Warfare 3 - 2023

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For the most part, your… affliction was mostly passive. It flared up rarely, and only for a few agonizing moments before passing. It was easy to hide it, not like anyone was going to ask questions if you excused yourself to the bathroom for a few moments. But that was before you were assigned to a duo mission with only you and your Lieutenant, Ghost.

Ghost had of course insisted that he go at it alone, that with just a sniper and enough rounds, he could get the job done with no problem. But obviously, Price wasn’t going to let that happen, so he attached you to the mission as well. It was a simple hit job, taking out a close ally of Vladimir Makarov. Someone whose blood deserved to be spilled, as Ghost put it.

The only problem, the two of you had to travel to the location on dirtbikes since the forestry surrounding it was far too thick for air or big vehicle transport. This meant you two wouldn’t be getting to the secluded cabin for a day or two at best. All that time spent with Ghost, with no place to hide if your problem decided to flare up, meant this job was going to be a pretty big pain in the ass. For both of you. For… different reasons.

–

Ghost painfully sighed, his dry eyes squinting tight. Even in his thickly layered gear, his fingers and toes were numb, his skin clammy from an uncomfortable mix of sweat, rain, and snow that had been soaking through his clothes for the past three hours. “Let’s stop up here,” Ghost shouted over to you, chin tilting up to point towards a snow-covered shack tucked between the dark trees.

The bike's rumbling engine dropped to a low hum as Ghost slowed to a stop in front of the shack. His boots dropped from the foot kegs, down into the snow, a shiver rolling up his spine as the cold bit through his socks. He leaned back, hands removed from the handlebars to instead rub together, trying to get the feeling back into his fingers. His body held the bike under him with ease, despite the way it shook and vibrated from the powerful engine.

“Let me check it first.” Ghost grumbled as he heard the engine of your bike shut off next to him. He followed suit, turning the bike off, swinging a leg behind him to kick the stand out and stand the bike up in the snow. With a hand on his pistol, Ghost entered the shack first, not letting you follow him inside.

It was small, most windows boarded up, one bedroom, one bathroom, a fireplace, no working heat or water– but empty. Exiting a few minutes later, Ghost grunted at the cold gust of wind that smacked his blistering face under his mask. “Go inside, gonna get some wood so we don’t fuckin’ freeze to death out here.” He told you, stepping aside so he could hold open the door for you, a not-so-subtle way for him to rush you inside.

Ghost’s eyes flickered from you to something in the snow. A small pile of petals, bright red resting on the sparkling, crystalizing snow. Ghost’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t speak his mind. Sure, it was strange. There weren’t any flowers poking out from the snow, nothing would be blooming during this time anyway. But Ghost was frankly too cold and too tired to give a full shit about some petals, so when you passed him to step inside, he shut the door to find any sticks or logs that weren’t too frozen over.