So many ideas but no motivation to write, this ones a little selfish self indulgent between trying to empty my drafts and all the new ideas worming their way into my brain.
Scratch.....
Scratch.....
John rolled over to face her, and sure enough, she was still asleep. She always got like this when the weather changed from warm to cold, and she spent more time wrapped up to keep warm. It always kicked her eczema off even with the cream she applied to it.
Scratch.....
Scratch.....
Still no indication that she was waking up. John knew if he left her to it, she'd wake up sore and bleeding from where her nails had raked across the skin of her thighs. He reached a hand out to hold hers, sliding his fingers through hers in a tight grip so that she couldn't break free to scratch again. What he hadn't counted on was her other hand coming down to scratch. He knew then he was going to have to wake her.
"Love" he said gently but got no response so he tried again, a little louder this time, a little firmer which did the trick as she stirred awake. "If you don't stop scratching, I'm going to have to resort to the scratch mittens they give babies" he smiles, half joking in his threat.
"What?" She asks, confused until her body wakes enough to register the burning of her skin and she winces.
"Let me, I'll get your cream" John soothes, letting go of her hand to reach into his bedside, the attentive husband he is knows her well enough to be prepared.
He let's her pull back the covers and shimmy out of her pyjama pants. You'd have thought scratching through material would cause less of a mark. It doesn't. "It's gonna sting, love," he says. He knows she knows, but the words leave him anyway.
The sting of the cold against the broken sting does hurt, but the warmth of his hands following the cream helps a little, but contact to the area is still painful, and John tries not to touch for any longer than he needs to to rub the cream into her skin. There's tears in her eyes when he's finished and she doesn't quite fully close her legs enough to touch the other when he pulls away.
"Thank you" she whispers once John has gotten back into bed after washing the cream from his skin and putting the bottle away.
He smiles in response, pressing a kiss to her forehead in quiet understanding. "You know mittens, maybe the way to go" he teases lightly once they're settled back into their previous positions.
"Would just lose them while I sleep," she yawns, eyes closing now that the burning and itching is subsiding.
"If it fails I could always tie your hands to the bed, no escaping that" he chuckles.
Her shoot open from where they were just closing again, "would solve that problem but then we'd have another one" she confesses, face heating when it only makes him laugh more.
he doesn't remember the last time he used his phone for more than a call. he just doesn't understand the appeal of staring into a small box for hours on end. instead, he stares into a much larger box and watches grown men run around a grass patch, like a big boy.
but that's where you come in.
it started off simple enough. a text confirming the time of your date. okay, simon said to himself as he typed up a response. no matter how annoying it was trying to fit his thumbs on the tiny keyboard, it was overshadowed by how giddy he was to see you again.
after he walked you home, earning himself a kiss on the cheek (it was his jaw actually, you couldn't reach any higher), he had to regain his composure. the unfamiliar feeling of general arousal made his skin itch, the wings fluttering in his stomach felt invasive. he wasn't used to this. his fragile, cracking walls begged for support, but he restrained the isolating thoughts. slowly, he accepted his mood and headed home. just as he was about to unwind on the couch, his phone buzzed. the sound froze him in place for a second.
you: tonight was amazing! would love to see you again
he bit his lip in thought as he stared at the screen.
simon: Ok.
you: ... ok?
his eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher your message. were you not satisfied with his answer?
simon: Me too.
that'll save it. surely.
the clock kept ticking. and his phone remained silent. checking it every few minutes, he grew restless, unable to concentrate on the tv. your perfume lingered in his nose; your beautiful face popped up everytime he closed his eyes.
you: same time tomorrow?
you: dinner's on me this time
simon: Absolutely not.
he shook his head with a smile on his face, catching a glimpse of the tv. as if expecting you to read his thoughts, he didn't bother to elaborate on that message. instead, he locked his phone and leaned back all satisfied, as he resumed pretending to watch the game while thinking about you.
you: oh?
you: i thought it was going well
that last message was your final straw. you understood he was old at heart, so overlooking the desert that were your DMs should've been easy. he was different in real life. quiet, sure, but warmth seeped from his eyes everytime he looked at you. he listened to everything you had to say, and actually remembered. even the smallest details you mentioned while nervously rambling. but Absolutely not? it felt like a splash of icy water in your face.
just as you were typing up your farewell text, all bitter, your screen turned dark. his name shined brightly in the middle as your phone vibrated.
you picked up.
"dinner. I meant- dinner," he said hurriedly. "um, paying for dinner, that is. yer not paying."
the tension in your stomach released, a relieved chuckle escaping your lips.
"tomorrow works for me." he added. "if I haven't fucked it up already."
"you haven't." with your bitter mood all gone, you offered him reassurance. "but please elaborate on your messages. it's hard to tell what you're thinking when you're sitting next to me, let alone over the phone."
he let out an amused breath. "I'll try, dove."
------
and try he did.
but the improvement was slow. though, what he lacked in his texting skills, he made up for tenfold whenever he was with you. making you feel like the reason for his existence. over time, you learned to imagine the loving look he gave his screen as he conjured up a string of dry words to send you.
you: where are you?
simon: On the motorway.
simon: Car crash.
your heart dropped. panicked, you ditched your shopping cart in the aisle and ran to your car, frantically searching for your keys. just before you dialed his number to ask for his exact location, your phone buzzed again.
a picture of an unfamiliar car flipped over on the road.
writer culture is thinking about an idea 24/7 but being completely unable to write more than a sentence when you finally sit down in front of your computer
Simon 'Ghost' Riley angst because why not (happy ending as I can not write anything other than that)
The ringing of her phone in the dead of night no longer scared her awake as it did at the start of her relationship with Simon. At the start, the ringing of the phone at 2am would always make her fear the worst had happened, but over time, she got to know that Simon would seize any opportunity to call her as it was rare that he ever got the time while away on deployment but tonight's call was much different.
She only had to glance at the blocked number with bleary eyes, a burner phone he always took one on deployment, before she was answering with sleepy excitement that faded with the heavy breathing that answered.
"Ghost?" She asked, caution and worry clear in her voice. She hated using his call sign but it was something he had insisted on, for safety reasons while he was out in the field.
"Not ghost, please love" came the sound she recognised as Simons voice through the line, but it sounded warped, each breath he took sounding like he was gurgling water.
"Simon, whats-are you okay?" She was beginning to panic now, the phone shaking in her hand as she gripped the duvet cover in the other.
"Tha' promise I made bout coming home" he spoke, each word sounding like a struggle for him. She hummed in response, she knew the promise, it was the same promise he made every time he went away, to come home to her. "Migh' have ta break it this time, love" he spluttered, his breath catching in his throat as a series of coughs followed.
"NO, no Simon, you're-you're gonna be okay," She pleaded, begging, hoping, praying to anyone that would listen that he'd be okay. No response came, but she could still hear his heavy breathing coming out in splutters and the unmistakable sound of boots hitting the ground approaching him. "Simon please, Si-"
Her words cut off by another voice coming into earshot, "Fuckin' 'ell Lt", she recognised the Scottish accent and hoped that it was the one from his unit that she'd heard about but never met. "Captain, we're gonna need immediate evac" was the last she heard before the line went dead.
She froze in place, the phone still held against her ear as her emotions began to spill over just like the tears that fell from her eyes. She didn't even try to stop them. There'd be no point anyway as they'd just keep coming and coming, unable to stop them as she morns her loss, knowing from the call that there'd be little chance he could survive. She didn't even know what his injuries were but clearly Simon had resigned himself to think that it was the end so why shouldn't she. It wasn't as if she knew this couldn't happen, she knew he had a dangerous job, of course there were risks and dying was one of them but it was one of those things that people never expect to experience.
She didn't sleep much that night or the night that followed. She didn't even move from the bed, calling in sick to work, losing track of time as it moved around her, but she stayed stuck in place.
It was days later that her phone rang with another blocked number. Although this time, she was hesitant to answer it, letting it ring and ring until it cut off, only to ring again seconds later.
"Hello" She croaked out, days of not speaking and crying had done a number on her voice. The familiar Scottish accent from that night spoke her name, "speaking" she replied back immediately, knowing it must have something to do with Simon.
"Ya down as Simon Riley's emergency contact," he stated, that she didn't know, but she hummed in response to acknowledge his words, but at least he'd confirmed her suspicions. "Ya not even going tae ask why 'm calling?" He asked, almost sounding amazed that she hadn't but he figured as soon as he'd uttered 'emergency contact' she'd be panicking asking all sorts of questions.
"If you're calling to tell me he's dead, I already know" She mumbled, the words she'd been dreading finally slipping past her lips. She could hear him start to ask what she assumed was gonna be how she knew about Simon but she spoke before he had time to finish, "He called me right before you found him, told me he wasn't going to make it home this time, I heard him die" She cried, unable to keep the tears in anymore.
He was quiet on the other end of the phone for a while and she figured that was all the conformation she needed until he spoke again, his voice much quieter and softer this time that she thought she may have imagined it. "I though' so tae, until we got 'im tae tha medics, jus' in time, they managed tae keep 'im alive until we could get 'im back tae base" he explained, giving her hope for the first time in days that she'd see Simon again. "Tha captain's on 'is way tae get ya, figured he'd like tae see ya when he woke" he added which had her scrambling out of the bed.
"Wait how'd I know who the Captain is, I've never met any of you" She worried now, sure she wanted to see Simon to make sure he was really alright but Simon had said before she could become a target to get to him if the wrong people found out about her.
"Really are Ghosts bird, ain't ya" he chuckled down the phone, which put her slightly more at ease in the fact that this stranger knew Simon enough to recognise where her worries came from. "Big, bear of a guy in a lame hat" he finally replied in answer to her question, "won't be long keep an eye out" he added before the line cut out.
The moment the line went dead, she sprung into action. There was no way she'd have time to shower, so she'd have to settle for a quick freshen up. There was also no helping her hair so she threw it up in a hair tie as she searched her closet for something half decent for the trip to the base.
When the knock of the door eventually did come she opened it hesitantly, a little unsure of who she was going to find on the otherside. Though just as the scot had said, there stood a big bear of a man with thick facial hair and a lame? hat, she wouldn't have gone so far to call it lame but each to their own, she guessed. "Captain?" She asked even though she was sure that this was the man that was to take her to see Simon.
"John" he introduced himself, "now let's get you to Simon" he spoke, ushering her out of the house and into the car.
The radio played lowly as they drove and she got the feeling that John would be willing to talk if she wanted to talk but that he would also be willing to drive in silence if thats what she wanted instead. Which she did there was just one burning question on her mind, one that she didn't think Simon would give her and answer to if she did ask. Not that she thought he'd lie to her, more just skirt around it to avoid her worrying even more.
"What happened?" She asked, hoping to get the answer to what had plagued her since Simon's call.
"Well I can't go into details as it's"
"Classified" she interrupted him, "I get that, I don't care about whatever the mission was, I just care about the parts involving Simon," she pushed.
John sighed, he'd expected this, only not quite so soon into the drive back and as much as he'd prepared himself to talk about it, the reality was they'd almost lost Simon. He took part of the blame as he was the one who had recruited Simon to the task force but he knew Simon wouldn't be there if he didn't want to be. "When we found him, there was blood everywhere that we couldn't workout where it was coming from, we figured he'd been stabbed from the knife about 5 feet from him" John replayed the scene in his head, his knuckles turning white from the force he was gripping the steering wheel.
"What about the other guy? The one who stabbed him?" She asked, angrily hoping he got his karma.
"Well, from the way his head was facing the wrong way, we're guessing Simon killed him before the blood loss got to him, though we were far too preoccupied to investigate further," he answered but it was enough to satisfy her so when no more questions came he carried on. "Once we got him on the heli and the medics got him, the discovered two stab wounds. One to the abdomen, which luckily missed any vital organs and one to his chest, which punctured his lung, " he explained, letting her sit with the information. He knew there would be more questions coming, but when would be down to her as he focused back on the road.
"What happens now then? Medical discharge or is he able to still work?" She asked, she really hoped for a medical discharge for his safety but she knew Simon would not take to it lightly, he'd fight it as the task force and the army was pretty much all he knew.
"It'll be a long road to recovery. He'll be off for however long it takes, then it'll be desk duty until he's given the all clear for field work again, if he gets the all clear that is, " he explains, truth is he's not sure what will happen as it all depends on how he heals.
"I'm sure he'll love desk duty" she replies sarcastically, knowing how much Simon hates to be confined to the base, let alone a desk.
John agrees with the statement, but the health of his team comes first. He's almost thankful when the questions die down after that and the rest of the drive they undertake in silence.
Once they stepped through the base doors, Price guided her through wasting no time getting her checked in with a visitors badge and then navigating them through the hallways to the medical station where Simon was situated.
Her heart shatters when she finally sees him, hooked up to god knows how many beeping machines. There's bruising on most of the visible flesh and a lot of bandages but he's alive she reminds herself. She takes the seat at his bedside, the seat recently left vacant by Johnny, he introduced himself when she entered and then left the room with John to go find a nurse to get any further update on Simon's current condition.
She reached gingerly for Simons hand, unsure of what pain he was in, but she needed to feel him to really cement in her mind that he was alive. "Simon" she hummed his name, not sure if he was asleep or not as all she'd been told up until this point was that they wanted her there for when he woke, some comfort for both of them. Simon's hand flexed in hers, but he gave no other sign of being conscious. "Simon please come back to me, I-I can't lose you" She tears up for the, well she's lost count of how many times she's cried in the last couple of days so she doesn't even try to guess.
Leaning her head forward to rest against his hand, careful of the canula protruding from it, she shuts her eyes as she takes in the feel of his skin against hers, reminding herself that he's still here. The warmth of Simon, the quietness of the room quickly lulls her to sleep for the first time since that phone call mere days before.
She jolts awake at the feeling of someone petting her hair, sitting bolt upright as she tries to gather her bearings in the unfamiliar room. Until it hits her and her eyes land on Simon, where he lays on the hospital bed still, only he's awake now.
"Oh oh" she can't help herself as the tears begin to flow yet again, although this time it's not sadness. It's a mix of emotions, mainly relief but there's a little bit of anger in there as well. "Don't you ever, ever do that again because no matter how much I love you I will walk because I cannot take the pain of losing you" She's shaking as she talks, unaware of the rest of the task force in the room but then she's breaking and gingerly, to avoid his wounds, leaning forward to embrace him.
"Love ya too, love" he speaks quietly into her ear, his voice rougher than normal but still the same as she remembered.
Simon's shoulder is wet when she pulls away, but he doesn't say anything, just reaches for her instead when she sits back down in the chair, taking his hand without a second thought as his nurse comes in to check his obs. She tries to clear the room, the task force leaving without fuss but Simon refuses to let her leave, despite the nurses objections. Right now they both need the comfort of knowing he's okay and in the moment that comes in the form of contact between the two of them. And for Simon, he plans on never letting her out of his sight for the foreseeable future.
Inspired by this post of where Simon takes reader to adopt a dog to protect her while he's deployed, but it doesn't quite turn out the way he planned. Please read the original and show it some love. I love it so much.
Simon closed the door behind him and... nothing. No barking, no dog appearing, nothing. The whole point of him getting her the dog was for protection but here the silly thing was doing exactly the opposite, he could've been anyone and the dog couldn't even care less to come look or even alert her to his presence.
He could see the dim light of the TV playing from the living room so he knew she must have been in there but from the lack of response he figured she was asleep. And if Simon was a betting man he'd put money on it that the dog was curled up on her lap fast asleep.
Upon entering the living room he found he was correct. His love was flat out in his arm chair, head lolling to the side in an awkward way that he knew would give her neck ache and the curled up on her lap was the damn dog, giving him nothing more than a sleepy fick of its tail as it watches Simon enter the room.
"Useless" Simon mutters, kneeling down beside the chair, resting a heavy hand over her arm in hopes of gently waking her up to get her to bed.
The wake up was not as gentle as he'd planned as she jerked awake at the unexpectedness of his touch. The movement jostling the dog who whined in protest at having its sleep disturbed, she answered with a soft sleepy coo before turning back to Simon with a sleepy smile.
"Not a very good guard dog, is it?" He teases, glancing down at the docile ball of fluff in her lap, "shoulda got the big one" he adds referring to the dog he originally planned to get from the shelter.
"Nah, s'perfect" she mumbles, words slurring together slightly as she's not fully awake yet, which means she doesn't put up a fight when Simon shoos the dog from her lap before scooping her up bridal style to carry her through to bed. "'Sides why'd ah need a gaurd dog when ah got you" she adds, nuzzling into his neck as the warmth of his body soothes her back to sleep before he even has a chance to say anything.
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