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Flufftober 2025
— The Feeling of Despair: Saiki k x reader( platonic, stress, hurt/comfort
part one here rookie masterlist
roommate!rookie!reader x lt ghost (a lot of price this chapter), hurt/comfort, implied intentional starving (to themself), mentions of physical abuse , happy ending
————————————-
You seem fine, he thinks. It’s breakfast and you’re talking to Kyle about whatever and you haven't actually been acting strange at all. In fact, it’s like you’ve bounced back completely, if not just with probably a few more sore muscles because of those crappy cell beds.
“Like a boomerang, aye? I thought she’d be at least a bit more shaken up after everything that happened..” Johnny murmurs to him as they sit opposite you, thankfully with enough space that you wouldnt hear them.
“Yeah..” Ghost nods in agreement, eyes flicking over to you occasionally. “Still, we’ll have to deal with that second lieutenant accordingly.”
You laugh at something and they both snap back to the conversation, intrigued to know what had gotten both of you so giggly. Everything was going perfectly fine since you were announced innocent by the 141.. until it just wasn't.
——
It all started the day after, when you returned to training with your group.
“Oh, you’re joining us today? Sergeant Mactavish said you might take a break.”
“They tried to make me but I knew i’d be bored out my mind. It’s okay, I want to train.” You give a forced smile as if your cheeks will hide the eyebags before starting your warmups like everyone else. One of them claps you on the back, giving you a grin and mentioning how they missed you for the time you had been gone.
Even training goes well too, like you never left. At one point you had almost frozen up when you were beaten by your opponent, but your instinct kicked in immediately and you scrambled backwards. The Second Lieutenant loved to see you writhing.
Whatever the circumstances, you swore you’d act like everything was okay. The last thing you wanted was to cause any more trouble for the 141.
“Good round, kid.” Your teammate helps you up, grasping your hand to pull you to your feet. “You lost a bit of weight on that course..” He raises a brow at you and then awkwardly pats your shoulder. “Anyway, you did good, and you look stronger too!”
Stronger? Is that what the torture of that course had really done to you?
“Hey— you okay? You look like you’ve seen a gh—“
“Forgot I had to run an errand straight after training. I need to go.” You pull out of his worried grip, his hand left awkwardly in the air as you grab your bag hastily and leave the room with the door thudding shut.
Your chest is tight, like you’re feeling the result of six weeks of abuse all in one moment because of one stupid comment. How did it make you better? It was hell, it was unfair, everyone there turned against you and—and—
“Mactavish— have you done the work I asked you to do?”
There’s about three seconds before you get caught and you dash into the electrical closet, holding the handle so abnormally tight that the red marks start to bloom across your palm.
Dont come in here, dont come near here. Please dont see me— please dont—
You only let out a sigh of relief when they finally turn down the corridor, chest heaving as you struggle to come to terms with it all.
————-
It’s been a day or so since that.. happened. But still lunchtimes were always more dreadful. Especially since you still aren't let out of that forsaken team who really doesn't want you around. To be fair, they’ve been less vocal about their opinions on you recently, or maybe it’s because you just let any fight you had left die out altogether.
“Wow.. you actually lost a few kilos? I never thought I'd see the day.” One of them mutters, but only a few snickers pass around compared to the usual. It wouldn't typically bother you, and you didn't explicitly react anyway. Yet something in you just stilled for a moment, bile churning in your stomach at the thought.
This is what you had wanted—to be approved by them.
So why did it feel so wretched?
You know why— deep down you do. It’s because the Second Lieutenant is the reason for this. Because he picked on you and ostracised you, kept your portion sizes one fit for weak prey and not predators like everyone else is supposed to be. He forced this on you.
How could you even complain? Not when they’re smiling in your face, praising the change about you, the obedience in your actions, the quick reactions.
Even if you’re unworthy, even if you were just forced to adopt all of those traits because that's only what the situation allowed for. Would they shame you if they knew the truth? Would they call you weak for thinking you’re the victim?
You swallow down the bite harshly, so much so you can feel the edges cut against your throat as you force it down. “I didn't do it on purpose.” is all you can say, a weak defence. Then you stand, dumping the scraps and leaving the mess hall.
——
The gym is thankfully empty and you’ve been waiting all week for it to be. It reminds you of all the nights you stayed up, trying to perfect your technique, trying to be accepted for once.
No matter how hard you push your limits, your muscles still cry out in pain, just as your head is consumed by flashbacks of those weeks. Still, you keep pushing to just fight back even a little, to prove you’re enough despite it all. That you’re not weak, and you can handle it, certification or not.
“Drink a little, catch ye breath before the next set.” Soap stands before you as you come up from a curl up, shocking you so much that you fall back against the mat. “Oops— didn't mean to scare ye.” He reaches down quickly to pull you back to sitting up before sitting on the bench nearby.
“S-sorry, I was thinking and you just.. caught me off guard.” Before you can ramble on any longer, you chug down half your water bottle instantly, making him raise a brow.
“Dont worry about it, bon. Just making sure you keep yourself healthy.” He flashes a grin at you, and you nod quietly to his words. Healthy. Not strong.. not thin or in good shape— Healthy.
You part your lips, wondering if you can really ask for this, if he’ll laugh in your face and say he’d beat you in seconds. What if he’s busy too?
“Y’need something?”
“N-no, it’s alright. Was just hoping you hadnt caught me doing too easy of a set, it’s only warmups i promise.” You joke and he laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t know what yer talking about; this is the hardest part of my workout.” He gives you one last chuckle before leaving you to it again, a wave of relief settling over you.
——————
“Are you holding up okay? You’ve been pretty.. quiet, all week now.”
Now you’re here, Simon staring at you as you unravel your boots. You don't know what had even happened in the past week—everything had been one massive blur.
The nights started being more sleepless, always rolling around and waking up with a tight chest. The comments made by people didn't help either, even if they weren't intended to be rude.
Time started to blend into each other, your mornings started to feel like a schedule and every conversation wasnt worth remembering. You were living like autopilot, and you couldnt really even care.
“I’m just trying to get back into routine…” You mumble out and he wants to call you out on your lying but he really can't this time. He’s been barely around, only giving you a few minutes of his time because he really cant afford anything with this current Shepherd situation. Still, he doesnt like not talking to you like this— hell, he feels like there’s a shift between you two and he hates it.
“Seems to be more than that.” He mutters, letting out a soft sigh as he stands from your bed. Slowly he makes his way to your drawers, pulling out a fresh shirt and joggers for you to wear to bed. “You sleeping in mine or am i coming to yours?”
“It’s Thursday..”
Your eyes do seem to widen a little bit, excited at the prospect even if it’s a weekday and out of his rules. But it’s still much duller than the reaction he was hoping for.
“I want to. When i come out, you better have made your mind up” He doesnt wait for your answer, tossing his mask on his bed as he heads into the bathroom.
—
“Thought you liked my bed better..” He mumbles as he finds you sat on your own, following close behind. He watches as you quietly slide beneath the covers, slipping behind instantly after you settle. “We wrapped up everything concerning the Second Lieutenant. He won't bother you again.”
He lays on his back beside you, an arm laid out which you tuck yourself beneath. His hand curls in your hair, gently scratching at your scalp before tugging you closer until you’re forced to roll over, face pressing against his bicep. “So you’ll be back earlier now?”
“Yeah, no more disappearing. For a good while at least.”
You nod quietly, letting an arm fall across his chest, gently gripping the thin shirt he’s wearing. He continues to move his fingers across your head, stroking gently as your eyes fall shut. Something isnt right with you, but he doesn't know how to point it out after all this time. Especially after everything that happened to you. He can't exactly nose into all your business.
“How about I help you with some training tomorrow?”
At that you stiffen, and he’s suddenly afraid he had said the wrong thing entirely. Instead you look up at him, slightly propping yourself up on your elbows. “Really? You’ll train me?”
“Yeah? Why not? Good for both of us, I reckon. I want to see how much you learned at that course too.”
———————————
“Lieutenant– you’re here already?” You tilt your head as you exit to see him there standing outside the room you just had scheduled training in and he nods, beckoning you to follow which you instantly do.
“Course I did. Promised, I'd help you today, wouldn't I?" You nod eagerly at his words, following him outside so you don't have to push through the bustle of soldiers just to get there. There’s a few teams out on the track, a grouped session it seems, and you’re naturally drawn to the noise.
“Ye got a minute Lt?” Johnny approaches up ahead, making you immediately nod, letting him delay your workout for a second. When he doesn't start immediately talking you get the hint, sheepishly smiling and heading over to a small bench to wait.
“It’s about the recent stuff with the Second Lieutenant..” He sighs and Simon raises a brow, assuming the past few nights he spent figuring it out with the Captain was more than enough. Had something changed? “Price wouldn’t let me look, it’s her medical exam.”
“Thanks Johnny, i’ll read it when I can.” He pats him on the shoulder after taking the files from his hands, ignoring the concern rising. You’ve been doing okay, if he presses further you might get annoyed with him.
“Private, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get out– now!”
Both of them turn their heads, not towards the Sergeant yelling across the field, but to your harsh flinch in their peripheral view. Your body had frozen up but you had reacted harsh enough that it was impossible to ignore.
“They’ve done that a few times, Simon..” Johnny sighs, having heard your CO mention it but he wasnt sure if he should report it not. You got startled sometimes– but this was totally different.
“I’ll.. look into it properly.” He stares down at the file as you take a deep breath to steady yourself, seemingly just noticing how you reacted. “Thanks again.”
He can't stop repeating the image in his head as you walk beside him, tapping away at something on your phone. You never even did anything wrong, clean as a slate compared the crimes of the taskforce. Even this medical file has him dreading everything; what would he find in there?
“Alright, come on.” He stills the anger thumping through him, concentrating on you as you stand before him on this mat, the room mostly empty. “Show me what you’ve got.”
———
His hand catches yours and you tense, already expecting the throw down. That wasnt just the Second Lieutenant who did that, your old teammates always finished a spar the same too.
After all, a real fist fight wouldnt end after you surrender.
His do.
“Mmm, definitely a lot faster than the last time we did this. You really did a lot of work didn't you?” He doesnt let go of your hand, gently guiding it where he wants to demonstrate. “Try hit here next time, same move, just aim for this area, okay?”
You nod, trying not think too hard about the fact you can feel his pulse beating beneath your hand, or the slight rub of his thumb on your skin as he helps you. So, you start from the beginning, the same move, aiming there. He staggers back this time and your eyes widen in relief, before immediately panicking once you realise what you did.
“S-sorry should i have not gone that hard?! I didn't mean to—“
“Relax, I wouldnt be SAS if i couldnt handle a good hit or two every now and then.” He chuckles, patting your shoulder and finding his footing again. So you go again, and again, and each and every time he adjusts you correctly, even when your body braces for a blow it hardly ever comes.
It feels.. wrong.
“You’re going easy on me.” You’re chugging water again, like it’ll inject energy directly into your veins, but it’s the closest thing you have right now.
“I’m not gonna punch your teeth in, am I?” He rolls his eyes at your complaints, offering you a snack bar.. annoyingly it is your favourite.
It’d be more concerning if you declined it though, so you reluctantly take it, ignoring the way your mouth waters at the thought of the dark chocolate drizzle on it. It’s been a while since you’ve had sugar, surprisingly.
“You think im weak.” You huff in return, chewing down the first bite whilst feeling yourself start to thrum with life at something entering your system for the first time in hours.
“No one in your team is strong enough to go up against any SAS soldier.” He hums, poking your cheek just to rile you up until you're glaring at him. “And i dont think you’re weak. Don’t fancy dealing with an incident report today.”
“What would you do if i was a real traitor huh? You’d underestimate me, and then before you know if i’d kill you” With your hands planted on your hips, you challenge him, narrowing your eyes.
Unlucky for you, he just chuckles, shaking his head despite your faux serious demeanor. “I’d like you see you try. Now, come on, we’ve got half and hour until dinner.”
——————
You’re in the shower, scrubbing the grime of the day away and he collapses into his desk chair, rolling backwards from the force of it. Something was definitely wrong— there was no doubt about that, but he couldnt just say it outright. You had been a lot more happier today than the last two weeks.
His gaze drifts down to the files Johnny had handed him, and he glances one more time towards the bathroom door before opening it. The card rustles as he undoes the cover, revealing the medical reports beneath, just as he was told. The blood tests show your vitals were lower than usual, along with your measured weight— he’d consider that almost a dangerous low.
To be honest, he had noticed the change himself, but you’d been dressing yourself in a way where it didn't seem this bad. He flicks to the next page, the documentation of injuries whilst out on the trip, delivered by a nurse who had been working there.
You had broken your nose within the first week.
The report states that it was an accident, but after hearing how your teammates confessed to Kyle about what happened, he knows it’s a severe understatement. With each page he turns, he only sees more and more injuries, small and big, but too many regardless.
A loose sheet falls out when he reaches the end, already sick to the stomach, and he recognises it as the information Kyle collected from your teammates. Their witness statements.
—————
The bathroom door clicks open and you stretch your arms above your head, wondering if you should dry your wet hair since it’s already nearing ten pm now. Though when you look up to see him sitting on your bed, his gaze set on you, you pause.
“C’mere, we need to talk.”
The words are heavy, but not harsh, and somehow that scares you a little more. In a way he feels like the Captain did in that interrogation room— what if the accusations were back again? Your heart thumps erratically in your ears as you step forward, your clothes sticking to your damp body like a rope around your limbs. “Lieutenant, I—“
“You never call me by my name anymore.” He suddenly says, and you stand before him— this time you’re the one looking down at him.
“I.. in the interrogation room it felt like i’d get in trouble if i did. I just.. i didn't want it to make it worse than it was.” You stammer out, already well aware that you hadnt addressed any of them by anything other than their rank for weeks now. It felt wrong to pretend you were actually on their level.
He reaches out, hand wrapping around your wrist in a way that has your eyes locked onto him, fighting to not brace for impact like you usually would. Instead he pulls you forward, a small tug that you easily follow, until you’re standing between his knees, his eyes staring up at you. There’s silence for a few moments, and he takes advantage of it to slowly move your sleeve upwards.
“You lost a lot of weight..” He wants to say more, you can tell, but the feeling that’s been attacking you all week suddenly comes back full force, making you swallow. You should’ve known he’d prefer it too. “Y-yeah.. everyone keeps saying that.”
“They’re worried about you too..”
You pause for way too long, and he notices, propping himself up so he can look over at you. “Y’alright? You dont feel ill or somethin’, do you?”
“No- no, it’s just.. a lot of people were glad that’s all. Happy I lost weight.”
“What?” His tone is sharper than usual, and he suddenly turns you around to face him, his eyes narrowed and almost pissed. “I’ll support whatever you want, but this isn't healthy to lose weight this fast. Why would they even say that?”
“Simon..” You begin, his sudden words throwing you off guard. Where everyone else had praised the lasting effects of the abuse, he had validated your feelings— but now it just feels wrong.
He just shakes his head, the rise and fall of his chest too heavy for you to challenge. Now he sees it right before him; the marks where the stitches would’ve been, the fresh pink scars, and the faintest remains of the extensive bruising that was pictured in your files.
“Turn around.” He murmurs and you do, letting him lift you to sit atop his knees and you feel the cool air hit your back as he witnesses the marks back there even worse than the others. Even with the week passed, he can tell— he knows what was here before.
The shirt falls again, arms now snaking to your middle as he pulls your back flush against his chest. “Why didn't you tell any of us?”
“It’s part of the job. You all get scraped up too.” You mumble, tensing when he lets out a heavy exhale, only for him to shake his head against your hair.
“No. This is not part of the job, sweetheart. This is not right—” His words are angry in your ear, fingers grasping the fabric of your shirt as his arms tighten.
“I-it’s bad luck. He just didn't like me— it happens to everyone.”
That’s what they all told you— he was a nepo baby, you just have to deal with it. It’s his way of discipline. There isnt any such thing as unfair or unjust— fairness doesnt exist on a battlefield.
“And who the fuck told you that, huh?” He turns you around in his grip, forcing you to look at him and his narrowed brows. He’s pissed, and you know it’s not aimed at you and yet still it makes you freeze up. “That’s bullshit. No one in authority should ever be sending a soldier to bed looking like this— even if they’re a right twat. You hear me?”
“Simon— we were training, it’s my own fault for not dodging effectively. If I had been just a bit better—“
“Dont say that.”
You pause, looking up to see his eyes shut, one hand pinching his brow as he grimaces. “Training is called that for a reason. You learn the moves, and you practice them. Your instructor doesnt let you feel the effects of a true fight until he knows you can. He abused you, and no one fucking stood up for you.”
You knew that. Of course you fucking knew that.
This entire time you’ve been well aware of what he did to you, how cruel it was. You feel the pain every morning when you wake up, every time you hear a voice rise too high or even worse a hand coming too close. You knew but everyone else refused to.
“I’m not weak.”
“I didn't say—“
“I’m not!” You pull away as he tries to pull you closer, standing before him again. The beat of your heart is pumping hard and you wish your arms could wrap around yourself to contain it tight.
“I- i worked hard the entire time! W-when he cut me off from the s-showers i went down to the lake, when he wouldn't let me eat i rationed- it’s— it’s not— i cooperated for the e-entire interrogation a-and—“
You choke on your own words, feeling that sickness rise in your throat, the guilt and shame swelling it shut. It’s all too much— the throbbing where the bruises once were, the cold bed of the cell, the growl of your stomach. Your palms push hard at your eyes, rubbing the skin raw and red as you force any sense of wetness down— down back into your body. Soldiers don't feel like this— they don't complain and they listen to orders exactly as told. They don't question the system.
“I got through it..I did everything like I was told.”
You mumble through hiccups, making your throat jump as your eyes squeeze shut. “Why is that not enough? Why won't you all just let it go already?” The dam breaks, sobs leaking onto your palms despite your best efforts.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that— none of this is because of you.” He stands, reaching a hand out hesitantly but deciding against it as you continue to sob, sleeves already way past damp.
“It’s been a whole week and i’m still in pain— i’m still acting like this. I- i didn't even get the certification Simon!” This time you turn away, cheeks glistening in the lamplight as you hiccup, too embarrassed of yourself to face him. “It has to be my fault.. you never even responded to my messages once.”
This time, he truly has no answer for. He was planning to tell you why, he really was. But then he got so angry seeing that they took advantage of your proximity to the team and used you as leverage like that. The General of all people stooped that low.
When he just sighs, sitting back down on your bed, you finally take a glance at him, having managed to settle the tears for a few seconds. He looked exhausted and entirely done with all of this. You couldnt help but feel the guilt weigh heavy on your chest.
Every single time he’s forced to comfort you. Rumours, illness, menstrual pain, anxieties and even your own pitiful insecurities. You should’ve known from the first day you showed up here that you’d be your own demise, stuttering like a child as you stood outside his room. What good have you done since that day? Apart from grabbing him a meal or the odd task, you were useless to him. Maybe he was right, you didn't deserve any of this because you werent even someone that useful anyway. Why they’d choose to frame you of all people if beyond you.
For a moment you just stare at him, the muscles in your face tightening and your breaths only getting more frantic. What have you done? You ruined it— he gave you, so, so many chances. And you blew it? Should you beg for forgiveness? For him to hold you one more time? It’s been so long, months since he’s had you properly. One step, you could move forward and maybe he’d give you mercy.
You can barely make a strangled noise before you’re suddenly turning, grabbing your keys, wallet, phone and your jacket, zipping it up high. You don't know where to go, but you can't let him babysit you much longer.
———————————
Maybe you’ll sleep out here tonight, with the quiet ripples of the lake, just like every night you did for two weeks of that course.
It feels stupid to have run away like you did now, but somehow crawling back seems even worse. Not for your dignity, you gave up on that long ago, but because of the fear he might actually be relieved you’re gone.
“Don’t do anything stupid; it’s not worth it.”
You scramble to your feet insantly, spinning on your heel to see the Captain there, his signature jacket wrapped over a warm sweater beneath. His eyes are just as tired as Simon’s have been, but still somehow his authority is strong over you, arms crossed over his chest.
“I- i wasnt going to..” You mumble, slowly shuffling away from where your legs dangled off the edge to stand up properly.
“You’re standing by the lake at midnight, kid. Come here, now.”
He gestures to you to come over, and you instinctively glance at the time on your phone as you slip your shoes on. It was past midnight, almost halfway now— how did time go by that fast? You come to stand before him, hands flat at your side and throat tight as you keep your gaze ahead— like a loyal soldier.
“You’re going to get sick.” He pulls the hat off his head, placing it on yours and making sure it covers you properly. Maybe to hide away a bit of your red rimmed eyes too. “Inside, now.”
——-
His office is warm, but you dont get the honour of sitting on the small couch this time, forced to sit right opposite his desk.
“You can start by explaining why you were out there, on your own, at midnight, looking like this.”
“The Lieutenant was concerned about me and i.. ran away. It was my fault.” You say, voice quiet but clear now that he’s the one asking. It’s been a week since you spoke to him last, when the interrogation was all over and you were free. “He wasn't happy with the results of my medical exam..how i was treated on the course and i.. i..”
You can’t finish your words because you dont know how to describe your response. A disagreement? An argument? A breakdown? It was too embarrassing, but here you are now, your eyes boring holes at your lap.
“I’m guessing you wanted to just move past everything that happened. Pretend it strengthened you, instead of the impact it actually had.” He crosses his arms as he sits down, eyes set straight on you and not moving for a second.
You stare down at your body, the way your limbs feel heavier than usual, the familiar ache in your stomach you learned to ignore. You quietly nod, in hopes that’ll make it somewhat better. “Yes sir.”
“Simon’s right; You didn't deserve any of that, nor me yelling at you in that interrogation room.” He begins, and you listen, not daring to argue for even a second. “If anything, the blame is completely on the 141 this time.”
“Sir—“
“That Second Lieutenant is the son of a General we’ve had.. problems with. I cant disclose it, you understand, but there’s no doubt this was a direct effort to get back at us. That was a cruel attempt to cause distrust between us as soldiers, and weaken us.”
Wait what? You were targeted and this wasnt just because of a stuck up son whose got daddy’s money. “So.. he didn't hate me, he was just listening to his orders?”
“Exactly that, kid. Simon was the one to realise the true nature of this, and the sergeants worked very hard to get testimonies from your teammates on the course. It seems even they had been forced to play along with the lies too.” He rummages around in his drawer for a moment, and pulls out a report of some kind, sliding it across to you.
Slowly you read through it, reading the list of the new orders for the Second Lieutenant or rather his ‘punishments’. The eight month long deployment was in one of the worst places you’ve heard only in rumours, but alas, it was either that or have a case against him for abuse of power. “This is only what’s on paper, you can rest assured that he’ll recieve worse things coming for him.”
“Thank you..” You’re grateful, really, and maybe a but of you is curious as to what that last thing he said means.. then again, Price almost looks proud of himself when you look at him. Did you even want to know what they plan to do to him?
“It’s the least we could’ve done.” He shakes his head at your gratitude, sliding the report back into his drawer again and locking it. “It’s happened now, no changing that. Trying to move forward is the smartest thing to do, but right now you’re only pushing yourself into the ground, kid. And I think you know why.”
You did, you really did. Somewhere deep down, probably subconsciously. You knew that you used the tactics you hated so much on yourself— because if you did it to yourself, then none of it ever happened. It wasn't as bad as you think it was.
“Captain,” You begin, hands grasping the fabric of your trousers, only realising how cold you really are now. He gives you a nod in response, leaning slightly back as he keeps his gaze on you. Your own head lifts, swallowing harshly as you try and look at him without crumbling.
“..I dont want to do this anymore.”
“You want to quit?” He raises a brow, but something in him stills just a little. It’s not often a soldier this far in will end up leaving— he’s only see a few do it, usually due to family problems or other issues that take precedence. Or they always had planned to leave at this point. Did he really drive you to this point? Where you thought you had no other option?
“No, just.. I know i selected that course when i was applying but..” You chew at your lip, and let out a long sigh. Thankfully your tears have all but run dry, so even if you feel like you could bawl your eyes out, you wont. “The whole physical field doesn't.. suit me. I thought i’d be stronger if i did it— like all of you. Everyone my rank chooses it, only a few select the others..”
“So you want to specialise in a different field? I’ll admit, i didn't expect you to want to do a close combat role anyway.” When he doesnt immediately dismiss your thoughts, you perk up a little, looking up at him.
“I- i’m not making the wrong decision, am I? The other ones are still good pathways?” Your eyes glimmer in his overhead light, the red rims of your eyelids practically shining despite everything that’s happened tonight. He hadn't expected the sudden relief when you denied wanting to quit. After all, it was their teams fault that you got in all that mess.
He chuckles, shaking his head at your nervous words— you really were a rookie still.
“Only cocky privates think close combat is the only redeemable job. If it werent for the specialists, the 141 wouldnt get any of our jobs done— that includes Sergeant Mactavish’s knowledge in demolitions.”
You swallow sharply, nodding to his words and taking them in. All this time you’d been so afraid that this was akin to giving up, admitting you’re weak and not cut out for this work. Little had you known that this whole time, the answer had been waiting for you. “Will I still be able to stay here?”
“Depends on what you choose. Might have to take a year out to move to a different unit.” You blink, suddenly terrified by that notion. It’s been a year and a half of living beside Simon, every single day without fail.What would you do without him?
“Relax, kid. You dont have to choose right now.” He stands, coming around the desk and pats your shoulder. “If you dont want to do close combat, you dont have to. But, I should still give you this.”
You hadnt seen him grab the envelope when he came over, clean white and you take it from his hands carefully. It seems a bit smaller than a4, and you carefully rip the edges before pulling out the sheet inside.
Certificate of Completion awarded to..
“This is mine..?”
“The other instructor signed it for you, as well as the General himself. For all the trouble his son caused to you.” Your thumb follows the curve of the signatures, before nodding quietly to his words. He didn't stop you from wanting to do another course even though he knew you achieved this one, with a high score too. “Do you still want to transfer?”
“..Yeah. I do.”
A part of you knew that you always wanted something else but you were too afraid to admit it, fearful of what the others thought. But after everything you’ve experienced in these past months.. maybe it was a sign.
“Good. Then we will talk about it tomorrow after we grab breakfast.” He ushers you up and you follow him towards the door, rubbing your eyes without a second thought. You really were quite tired now, and the time blinks closer to one am. “You’re lucky you didn't want to actually quit.”
“Why?”
“Wouldnt let ya. My lieutenant relies too much on you.”
Your cheeks burn at his words, and you shake your head, hands flailing about. “Sir, that’s not true— he probably hates me now anyway.. I totally freaked out on him..” You cant believe you’re telling a Captain about this of all people, but it comes out before you can stop it, shoulders slumping like a petulant teenager. “Sorry for disturbing you so late at night, sir.”
“I’m the one who caught you, to be fair.” He huffs chuckles, leading you out his office and walking beside you down the empty corridors. “You need to give yourself more credit— you had to navigate an extremely hard situation on your own, kid. It’s not easy having no one to back you. I’m sure Simon, of all people, understands your frustration.”
“You really think so?”
“Swear by it.” He stops outside the room, and knocks before you can, taking the pressure off. You stand there nervously but Simon soon opens the door, eyes softening immediately when he sees you and then moving to Price who had brought you here.
“Borrowed her for a bit” Price teases, a smile peeking through before he nudges you to move forward and you do, your throat bobbing nervously. “Come to my office tomorrow, kid, alright?”
You nod again, and Simon looks between you two before turning back to Price.
“Thank you.”
“Sort yourselves out and sleep. You both look like your soul’s been sucked straight out of you.”
—————————-
“I’m sorry I never responded to your messages.” He says it as soon as he clicks the door shut, as if he cant hold it in any longer. The sheets on his bed are tousled, like he had tossed and turned until you arrived just now. “I read and listened to them— at least the ones before you deleted it.”
“It’s alright, i didn't mean to throw that back on you before, I know you were busy—“
“I wasn't busy.” He lets his chest sink, and you fall quiet, confused to what he’s getting at here. “On a mission, months ago, we had an ally turn against us. He had information he should’ve never had about us— naturally we assumed someone must’ve leaked it. He looked directly at me, and told me to look into the people i know.”
For a moment you pause, unbelieving he had surrendered information that easily. Sure, it was vague, but still more than he’d ever tell.
“Price explained it to me, about the General that’s causing you problems. I.. understand.” You say with a soft sigh, feeling guilty for freaking out on him but he adamantly shakes his head, not taking your words.
“No—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid of me to be suspicious of you and i knew it, i did so i dont know why i was.”
He falls silent, throat clogged, because of course he knows why he did it. He doesnt even trust himself, let alone others. You wormed your way in so quickly, he had jumped to the idea that you must be a traitor because there’s no way he could ever act like this. Actually be close to someone. Good things never last with him, and he was sure this must be the catch he was always waiting for.
“When I saw you getting interrogated, I knew deep down it would never have been you. The sergeants helped me realise it. I’m.. really sorry. I should’ve defended you sooner— I should’ve checked on you the night you returned and the entire past week.”
It hurts that he didn't trust you initially, but even a seed of doubt in this line of work is something you must listen to. Besides, he may have not communicated it to you the best, but it’s clear he worked very hard to get you out of the situation when he could’ve just let them ‘handle’ it. And you’re incredibly grateful for that.
“Let me fix it, okay? You can ask anything of me— absolutely anything.” He wants to reach out, it’s obvious by how his fingers twitch but still dont move forward, hesitant.
So instead, you take the leap. It’s like the block between you vanishes, and immediately you wrap your arms around him tightly, squashing your cheek against his chest, right to his heart. The feeling is so foreign and so familiar it has you letting out a deep sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “Just.. hold me, please.”
One hand rests on your back carefully, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear into thin air. Slowly his other hand joins it too, until he’s holding you too. His nose presses against your hair, breathing you in as much as he can. “Y’can sleep in my bed the whole week, hell the month. I’ll do all your shopping, and whatever you need i’ll buy.” The promises are mumbled against the crown of your head as his arms lower, landing on your legs as he hoists you up easily and carries you over to his bed.
Gently, he lays you down, and only now do you see the ointments he has arranged on his bedside table. “What’s this..?” You raise a brow but he sits down next to you, the mattress sinking before he starts to open one of the tins.
“For your bruises, it’ll help. Roll up your sleeve, okay?”
Your mind eases as he spends the next few minutes rubbing soothing ointments to the aches in your joints, before pulling the covers high and sliding in beside you. The lamp flicks off and he wraps his arms around you, easily dragging you with how your limbs have become dead weight.
With you settled atop of him, looking content and not as miserable as before, he can finally let the anger leave him, chest sinking against your head. Sleep hasn't weighed so heavy on you in weeks, laying like a thick blanket over your mind now that you know you’re finally free from this torment.
“Y’asleep?” His voice is quiet, probably expecting you to not answer at all. You were seconds away from drifting off aswell, but something in you forces you to let your eyes open, glancing up at him.
You give a lazy noise in return, and he chuckles, hand grazing your neck. “Just glad you forgave me. Don't know what i would’ve done, might’ve got on my knees and begged.”
“Still got time.” You mumble and he laughs, nose burying into your hair as he squeezes you tight.
“In the morning, you need some good sleep for once.” He breathes out another sigh, letting silence fill the air once more, and the weight of you on him settles deep into his bones. He made the right choice, even if it was terrifying. He refuses to ever regret meeting you. “Don’t think i didn't hear your stomach rumble earlier— i’m gonna get you eating normally, y’hear me?”
Fuck— you were praying he didn't actually hear that on the way back from the mess— right after you had literally eaten dinner. It just had to go and start making noises, didn't it?!
“I am eating normally.” You grumble, weakly pushing away from him in a weak attempt to express feigned annoyance at his insistence. Not that he lets you, easily pulling you flush against him again.
“I’ll just tell the chefs to pile it higher on your plate, they aint gonna say no.” He chuckles at his own admission of abusing his rank’s power, and you attempt to hit him with your elbow, failing easily.
“But if i use your rank to get a better dessert that's somehow a crime.”
“Dont make me bring up your dentist reports.” His hand rubs up and down your side, letting the warmth of his hand ease you. “I’ll get you some bloody good dessert for the whole month, you’ll pray the mess hall even gets close to it one day. Now, sleep, before I put you out myself.”
“And they say chivalry is dead.” He lets out a snort at that, only to hear your breathing finally even out against him, chest sinking.
Still, he just quietly watches your body relax, how you completely let yourself be at peace. He wants to engrave it in his mind, because only now he’s realised how easily he can lose you. This time his hands splay across you too, gently grasping your shirt like you’ve done to him many times too. He understands it now— he’s always the one leaving you behind— he knows what it’s like to miss you like this.
His grip is probably selfish, something Johnny would poke fun at him for and Kyle would say he’s ‘actin’ a little desperate there?’ whilst Price would nod along ‘like he’s starved’. But he lets himself have it this time, eyes slipping close as he lets himself sink the same way you did. If he didn't, then one day he’d regret it a million times over. Luckily that day wasn't today.
So instead he lets the breath that’s been keeping him stiff go, breathing in the scent of you that melts his mind into jelly. “Night, love.” He murmurs, his breaths finally evening out to match your pace even in his sleep.
—————————
buy me a coffee! Rookie masterlist
sleeping so hard tonight im exhausted and the first examdidnt go well, also fr going on a break now i need it thanks for the support hope you guys like this :)
part one here rookie masterlist
roommate!rookie!reader x lt ghost (a lot of price this chapter), hurt/comfort, implied intentional starving (to themself), mentions of physical abuse , happy ending
————————————-
You seem fine, he thinks. It’s breakfast and you’re talking to Kyle about whatever and you haven't actually been acting strange at all. In fact, it’s like you’ve bounced back completely, if not just with probably a few more sore muscles because of those crappy cell beds.
“Like a boomerang, aye? I thought she’d be at least a bit more shaken up after everything that happened..” Johnny murmurs to him as they sit opposite you, thankfully with enough space that you wouldnt hear them.
“Yeah..” Ghost nods in agreement, eyes flicking over to you occasionally. “Still, we’ll have to deal with that second lieutenant accordingly.”
You laugh at something and they both snap back to the conversation, intrigued to know what had gotten both of you so giggly. Everything was going perfectly fine since you were announced innocent by the 141.. until it just wasn't.
——
It all started the day after, when you returned to training with your group.
“Oh, you’re joining us today? Sergeant Mactavish said you might take a break.”
“They tried to make me but I knew i’d be bored out my mind. It’s okay, I want to train.” You give a forced smile as if your cheeks will hide the eyebags before starting your warmups like everyone else. One of them claps you on the back, giving you a grin and mentioning how they missed you for the time you had been gone.
Even training goes well too, like you never left. At one point you had almost frozen up when you were beaten by your opponent, but your instinct kicked in immediately and you scrambled backwards. The Second Lieutenant loved to see you writhing.
Whatever the circumstances, you swore you’d act like everything was okay. The last thing you wanted was to cause any more trouble for the 141.
“Good round, kid.” Your teammate helps you up, grasping your hand to pull you to your feet. “You lost a bit of weight on that course..” He raises a brow at you and then awkwardly pats your shoulder. “Anyway, you did good, and you look stronger too!”
Stronger? Is that what the torture of that course had really done to you?
“Hey— you okay? You look like you’ve seen a gh—“
“Forgot I had to run an errand straight after training. I need to go.” You pull out of his worried grip, his hand left awkwardly in the air as you grab your bag hastily and leave the room with the door thudding shut.
Your chest is tight, like you’re feeling the result of six weeks of abuse all in one moment because of one stupid comment. How did it make you better? It was hell, it was unfair, everyone there turned against you and—and—
“Mactavish— have you done the work I asked you to do?”
There’s about three seconds before you get caught and you dash into the electrical closet, holding the handle so abnormally tight that the red marks start to bloom across your palm.
Dont come in here, dont come near here. Please dont see me— please dont—
You only let out a sigh of relief when they finally turn down the corridor, chest heaving as you struggle to come to terms with it all.
————-
It’s been a day or so since that.. happened. But still lunchtimes were always more dreadful. Especially since you still aren't let out of that forsaken team who really doesn't want you around. To be fair, they’ve been less vocal about their opinions on you recently, or maybe it’s because you just let any fight you had left die out altogether.
“Wow.. you actually lost a few kilos? I never thought I'd see the day.” One of them mutters, but only a few snickers pass around compared to the usual. It wouldn't typically bother you, and you didn't explicitly react anyway. Yet something in you just stilled for a moment, bile churning in your stomach at the thought.
This is what you had wanted—to be approved by them.
So why did it feel so wretched?
You know why— deep down you do. It’s because the Second Lieutenant is the reason for this. Because he picked on you and ostracised you, kept your portion sizes one fit for weak prey and not predators like everyone else is supposed to be. He forced this on you.
How could you even complain? Not when they’re smiling in your face, praising the change about you, the obedience in your actions, the quick reactions.
Even if you’re unworthy, even if you were just forced to adopt all of those traits because that's only what the situation allowed for. Would they shame you if they knew the truth? Would they call you weak for thinking you’re the victim?
You swallow down the bite harshly, so much so you can feel the edges cut against your throat as you force it down. “I didn't do it on purpose.” is all you can say, a weak defence. Then you stand, dumping the scraps and leaving the mess hall.
——
The gym is thankfully empty and you’ve been waiting all week for it to be. It reminds you of all the nights you stayed up, trying to perfect your technique, trying to be accepted for once.
No matter how hard you push your limits, your muscles still cry out in pain, just as your head is consumed by flashbacks of those weeks. Still, you keep pushing to just fight back even a little, to prove you’re enough despite it all. That you’re not weak, and you can handle it, certification or not.
“Drink a little, catch ye breath before the next set.” Soap stands before you as you come up from a curl up, shocking you so much that you fall back against the mat. “Oops— didn't mean to scare ye.” He reaches down quickly to pull you back to sitting up before sitting on the bench nearby.
“S-sorry, I was thinking and you just.. caught me off guard.” Before you can ramble on any longer, you chug down half your water bottle instantly, making him raise a brow.
“Dont worry about it, bon. Just making sure you keep yourself healthy.” He flashes a grin at you, and you nod quietly to his words. Healthy. Not strong.. not thin or in good shape— Healthy.
You part your lips, wondering if you can really ask for this, if he’ll laugh in your face and say he’d beat you in seconds. What if he’s busy too?
“Y’need something?”
“N-no, it’s alright. Was just hoping you hadnt caught me doing too easy of a set, it’s only warmups i promise.” You joke and he laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t know what yer talking about; this is the hardest part of my workout.” He gives you one last chuckle before leaving you to it again, a wave of relief settling over you.
——————
“Are you holding up okay? You’ve been pretty.. quiet, all week now.”
Now you’re here, Simon staring at you as you unravel your boots. You don't know what had even happened in the past week—everything had been one massive blur.
The nights started being more sleepless, always rolling around and waking up with a tight chest. The comments made by people didn't help either, even if they weren't intended to be rude.
Time started to blend into each other, your mornings started to feel like a schedule and every conversation wasnt worth remembering. You were living like autopilot, and you couldnt really even care.
“I’m just trying to get back into routine…” You mumble out and he wants to call you out on your lying but he really can't this time. He’s been barely around, only giving you a few minutes of his time because he really cant afford anything with this current Shepherd situation. Still, he doesnt like not talking to you like this— hell, he feels like there’s a shift between you two and he hates it.
“Seems to be more than that.” He mutters, letting out a soft sigh as he stands from your bed. Slowly he makes his way to your drawers, pulling out a fresh shirt and joggers for you to wear to bed. “You sleeping in mine or am i coming to yours?”
“It’s Thursday..”
Your eyes do seem to widen a little bit, excited at the prospect even if it’s a weekday and out of his rules. But it’s still much duller than the reaction he was hoping for.
“I want to. When i come out, you better have made your mind up” He doesnt wait for your answer, tossing his mask on his bed as he heads into the bathroom.
—
“Thought you liked my bed better..” He mumbles as he finds you sat on your own, following close behind. He watches as you quietly slide beneath the covers, slipping behind instantly after you settle. “We wrapped up everything concerning the Second Lieutenant. He won't bother you again.”
He lays on his back beside you, an arm laid out which you tuck yourself beneath. His hand curls in your hair, gently scratching at your scalp before tugging you closer until you’re forced to roll over, face pressing against his bicep. “So you’ll be back earlier now?”
“Yeah, no more disappearing. For a good while at least.”
You nod quietly, letting an arm fall across his chest, gently gripping the thin shirt he’s wearing. He continues to move his fingers across your head, stroking gently as your eyes fall shut. Something isnt right with you, but he doesn't know how to point it out after all this time. Especially after everything that happened to you. He can't exactly nose into all your business.
“How about I help you with some training tomorrow?”
At that you stiffen, and he’s suddenly afraid he had said the wrong thing entirely. Instead you look up at him, slightly propping yourself up on your elbows. “Really? You’ll train me?”
“Yeah? Why not? Good for both of us, I reckon. I want to see how much you learned at that course too.”
———————————
“Lieutenant– you’re here already?” You tilt your head as you exit to see him there standing outside the room you just had scheduled training in and he nods, beckoning you to follow which you instantly do.
“Course I did. Promised, I'd help you today, wouldn't I?" You nod eagerly at his words, following him outside so you don't have to push through the bustle of soldiers just to get there. There’s a few teams out on the track, a grouped session it seems, and you’re naturally drawn to the noise.
“Ye got a minute Lt?” Johnny approaches up ahead, making you immediately nod, letting him delay your workout for a second. When he doesn't start immediately talking you get the hint, sheepishly smiling and heading over to a small bench to wait.
“It’s about the recent stuff with the Second Lieutenant..” He sighs and Simon raises a brow, assuming the past few nights he spent figuring it out with the Captain was more than enough. Had something changed? “Price wouldn’t let me look, it’s her medical exam.”
“Thanks Johnny, i’ll read it when I can.” He pats him on the shoulder after taking the files from his hands, ignoring the concern rising. You’ve been doing okay, if he presses further you might get annoyed with him.
“Private, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get out– now!”
Both of them turn their heads, not towards the Sergeant yelling across the field, but to your harsh flinch in their peripheral view. Your body had frozen up but you had reacted harsh enough that it was impossible to ignore.
“They’ve done that a few times, Simon..” Johnny sighs, having heard your CO mention it but he wasnt sure if he should report it not. You got startled sometimes– but this was totally different.
“I’ll.. look into it properly.” He stares down at the file as you take a deep breath to steady yourself, seemingly just noticing how you reacted. “Thanks again.”
He can't stop repeating the image in his head as you walk beside him, tapping away at something on your phone. You never even did anything wrong, clean as a slate compared the crimes of the taskforce. Even this medical file has him dreading everything; what would he find in there?
“Alright, come on.” He stills the anger thumping through him, concentrating on you as you stand before him on this mat, the room mostly empty. “Show me what you’ve got.”
———
His hand catches yours and you tense, already expecting the throw down. That wasnt just the Second Lieutenant who did that, your old teammates always finished a spar the same too.
After all, a real fist fight wouldnt end after you surrender.
His do.
“Mmm, definitely a lot faster than the last time we did this. You really did a lot of work didn't you?” He doesnt let go of your hand, gently guiding it where he wants to demonstrate. “Try hit here next time, same move, just aim for this area, okay?”
You nod, trying not think too hard about the fact you can feel his pulse beating beneath your hand, or the slight rub of his thumb on your skin as he helps you. So, you start from the beginning, the same move, aiming there. He staggers back this time and your eyes widen in relief, before immediately panicking once you realise what you did.
“S-sorry should i have not gone that hard?! I didn't mean to—“
“Relax, I wouldnt be SAS if i couldnt handle a good hit or two every now and then.” He chuckles, patting your shoulder and finding his footing again. So you go again, and again, and each and every time he adjusts you correctly, even when your body braces for a blow it hardly ever comes.
It feels.. wrong.
“You’re going easy on me.” You’re chugging water again, like it’ll inject energy directly into your veins, but it’s the closest thing you have right now.
“I’m not gonna punch your teeth in, am I?” He rolls his eyes at your complaints, offering you a snack bar.. annoyingly it is your favourite.
It’d be more concerning if you declined it though, so you reluctantly take it, ignoring the way your mouth waters at the thought of the dark chocolate drizzle on it. It’s been a while since you’ve had sugar, surprisingly.
“You think im weak.” You huff in return, chewing down the first bite whilst feeling yourself start to thrum with life at something entering your system for the first time in hours.
“No one in your team is strong enough to go up against any SAS soldier.” He hums, poking your cheek just to rile you up until you're glaring at him. “And i dont think you’re weak. Don’t fancy dealing with an incident report today.”
“What would you do if i was a real traitor huh? You’d underestimate me, and then before you know if i’d kill you” With your hands planted on your hips, you challenge him, narrowing your eyes.
Unlucky for you, he just chuckles, shaking his head despite your faux serious demeanor. “I’d like you see you try. Now, come on, we’ve got half and hour until dinner.”
——————
You’re in the shower, scrubbing the grime of the day away and he collapses into his desk chair, rolling backwards from the force of it. Something was definitely wrong— there was no doubt about that, but he couldnt just say it outright. You had been a lot more happier today than the last two weeks.
His gaze drifts down to the files Johnny had handed him, and he glances one more time towards the bathroom door before opening it. The card rustles as he undoes the cover, revealing the medical reports beneath, just as he was told. The blood tests show your vitals were lower than usual, along with your measured weight— he’d consider that almost a dangerous low.
To be honest, he had noticed the change himself, but you’d been dressing yourself in a way where it didn't seem this bad. He flicks to the next page, the documentation of injuries whilst out on the trip, delivered by a nurse who had been working there.
You had broken your nose within the first week.
The report states that it was an accident, but after hearing how your teammates confessed to Kyle about what happened, he knows it’s a severe understatement. With each page he turns, he only sees more and more injuries, small and big, but too many regardless.
A loose sheet falls out when he reaches the end, already sick to the stomach, and he recognises it as the information Kyle collected from your teammates. Their witness statements.
—————
The bathroom door clicks open and you stretch your arms above your head, wondering if you should dry your wet hair since it’s already nearing ten pm now. Though when you look up to see him sitting on your bed, his gaze set on you, you pause.
“C’mere, we need to talk.”
The words are heavy, but not harsh, and somehow that scares you a little more. In a way he feels like the Captain did in that interrogation room— what if the accusations were back again? Your heart thumps erratically in your ears as you step forward, your clothes sticking to your damp body like a rope around your limbs. “Lieutenant, I—“
“You never call me by my name anymore.” He suddenly says, and you stand before him— this time you’re the one looking down at him.
“I.. in the interrogation room it felt like i’d get in trouble if i did. I just.. i didn't want it to make it worse than it was.” You stammer out, already well aware that you hadnt addressed any of them by anything other than their rank for weeks now. It felt wrong to pretend you were actually on their level.
He reaches out, hand wrapping around your wrist in a way that has your eyes locked onto him, fighting to not brace for impact like you usually would. Instead he pulls you forward, a small tug that you easily follow, until you’re standing between his knees, his eyes staring up at you. There’s silence for a few moments, and he takes advantage of it to slowly move your sleeve upwards.
“You lost a lot of weight..” He wants to say more, you can tell, but the feeling that’s been attacking you all week suddenly comes back full force, making you swallow. You should’ve known he’d prefer it too. “Y-yeah.. everyone keeps saying that.”
“They’re worried about you too..”
You pause for way too long, and he notices, propping himself up so he can look over at you. “Y’alright? You dont feel ill or somethin’, do you?”
“No- no, it’s just.. a lot of people were glad that’s all. Happy I lost weight.”
“What?” His tone is sharper than usual, and he suddenly turns you around to face him, his eyes narrowed and almost pissed. “I’ll support whatever you want, but this isn't healthy to lose weight this fast. Why would they even say that?”
“Simon..” You begin, his sudden words throwing you off guard. Where everyone else had praised the lasting effects of the abuse, he had validated your feelings— but now it just feels wrong.
He just shakes his head, the rise and fall of his chest too heavy for you to challenge. Now he sees it right before him; the marks where the stitches would’ve been, the fresh pink scars, and the faintest remains of the extensive bruising that was pictured in your files.
“Turn around.” He murmurs and you do, letting him lift you to sit atop his knees and you feel the cool air hit your back as he witnesses the marks back there even worse than the others. Even with the week passed, he can tell— he knows what was here before.
The shirt falls again, arms now snaking to your middle as he pulls your back flush against his chest. “Why didn't you tell any of us?”
“It’s part of the job. You all get scraped up too.” You mumble, tensing when he lets out a heavy exhale, only for him to shake his head against your hair.
“No. This is not part of the job, sweetheart. This is not right—” His words are angry in your ear, fingers grasping the fabric of your shirt as his arms tighten.
“I-it’s bad luck. He just didn't like me— it happens to everyone.”
That’s what they all told you— he was a nepo baby, you just have to deal with it. It’s his way of discipline. There isnt any such thing as unfair or unjust— fairness doesnt exist on a battlefield.
“And who the fuck told you that, huh?” He turns you around in his grip, forcing you to look at him and his narrowed brows. He’s pissed, and you know it’s not aimed at you and yet still it makes you freeze up. “That’s bullshit. No one in authority should ever be sending a soldier to bed looking like this— even if they’re a right twat. You hear me?”
“Simon— we were training, it’s my own fault for not dodging effectively. If I had been just a bit better—“
“Dont say that.”
You pause, looking up to see his eyes shut, one hand pinching his brow as he grimaces. “Training is called that for a reason. You learn the moves, and you practice them. Your instructor doesnt let you feel the effects of a true fight until he knows you can. He abused you, and no one fucking stood up for you.”
You knew that. Of course you fucking knew that.
This entire time you’ve been well aware of what he did to you, how cruel it was. You feel the pain every morning when you wake up, every time you hear a voice rise too high or even worse a hand coming too close. You knew but everyone else refused to.
“I’m not weak.”
“I didn't say—“
“I’m not!” You pull away as he tries to pull you closer, standing before him again. The beat of your heart is pumping hard and you wish your arms could wrap around yourself to contain it tight.
“I- i worked hard the entire time! W-when he cut me off from the s-showers i went down to the lake, when he wouldn't let me eat i rationed- it’s— it’s not— i cooperated for the e-entire interrogation a-and—“
You choke on your own words, feeling that sickness rise in your throat, the guilt and shame swelling it shut. It’s all too much— the throbbing where the bruises once were, the cold bed of the cell, the growl of your stomach. Your palms push hard at your eyes, rubbing the skin raw and red as you force any sense of wetness down— down back into your body. Soldiers don't feel like this— they don't complain and they listen to orders exactly as told. They don't question the system.
“I got through it..I did everything like I was told.”
You mumble through hiccups, making your throat jump as your eyes squeeze shut. “Why is that not enough? Why won't you all just let it go already?” The dam breaks, sobs leaking onto your palms despite your best efforts.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that— none of this is because of you.” He stands, reaching a hand out hesitantly but deciding against it as you continue to sob, sleeves already way past damp.
“It’s been a whole week and i’m still in pain— i’m still acting like this. I- i didn't even get the certification Simon!” This time you turn away, cheeks glistening in the lamplight as you hiccup, too embarrassed of yourself to face him. “It has to be my fault.. you never even responded to my messages once.”
This time, he truly has no answer for. He was planning to tell you why, he really was. But then he got so angry seeing that they took advantage of your proximity to the team and used you as leverage like that. The General of all people stooped that low.
When he just sighs, sitting back down on your bed, you finally take a glance at him, having managed to settle the tears for a few seconds. He looked exhausted and entirely done with all of this. You couldnt help but feel the guilt weigh heavy on your chest.
Every single time he’s forced to comfort you. Rumours, illness, menstrual pain, anxieties and even your own pitiful insecurities. You should’ve known from the first day you showed up here that you’d be your own demise, stuttering like a child as you stood outside his room. What good have you done since that day? Apart from grabbing him a meal or the odd task, you were useless to him. Maybe he was right, you didn't deserve any of this because you werent even someone that useful anyway. Why they’d choose to frame you of all people if beyond you.
For a moment you just stare at him, the muscles in your face tightening and your breaths only getting more frantic. What have you done? You ruined it— he gave you, so, so many chances. And you blew it? Should you beg for forgiveness? For him to hold you one more time? It’s been so long, months since he’s had you properly. One step, you could move forward and maybe he’d give you mercy.
You can barely make a strangled noise before you’re suddenly turning, grabbing your keys, wallet, phone and your jacket, zipping it up high. You don't know where to go, but you can't let him babysit you much longer.
———————————
Maybe you’ll sleep out here tonight, with the quiet ripples of the lake, just like every night you did for two weeks of that course.
It feels stupid to have run away like you did now, but somehow crawling back seems even worse. Not for your dignity, you gave up on that long ago, but because of the fear he might actually be relieved you’re gone.
“Don’t do anything stupid; it’s not worth it.”
You scramble to your feet insantly, spinning on your heel to see the Captain there, his signature jacket wrapped over a warm sweater beneath. His eyes are just as tired as Simon’s have been, but still somehow his authority is strong over you, arms crossed over his chest.
“I- i wasnt going to..” You mumble, slowly shuffling away from where your legs dangled off the edge to stand up properly.
“You’re standing by the lake at midnight, kid. Come here, now.”
He gestures to you to come over, and you instinctively glance at the time on your phone as you slip your shoes on. It was past midnight, almost halfway now— how did time go by that fast? You come to stand before him, hands flat at your side and throat tight as you keep your gaze ahead— like a loyal soldier.
“You’re going to get sick.” He pulls the hat off his head, placing it on yours and making sure it covers you properly. Maybe to hide away a bit of your red rimmed eyes too. “Inside, now.”
——-
His office is warm, but you dont get the honour of sitting on the small couch this time, forced to sit right opposite his desk.
“You can start by explaining why you were out there, on your own, at midnight, looking like this.”
“The Lieutenant was concerned about me and i.. ran away. It was my fault.” You say, voice quiet but clear now that he’s the one asking. It’s been a week since you spoke to him last, when the interrogation was all over and you were free. “He wasn't happy with the results of my medical exam..how i was treated on the course and i.. i..”
You can’t finish your words because you dont know how to describe your response. A disagreement? An argument? A breakdown? It was too embarrassing, but here you are now, your eyes boring holes at your lap.
“I’m guessing you wanted to just move past everything that happened. Pretend it strengthened you, instead of the impact it actually had.” He crosses his arms as he sits down, eyes set straight on you and not moving for a second.
You stare down at your body, the way your limbs feel heavier than usual, the familiar ache in your stomach you learned to ignore. You quietly nod, in hopes that’ll make it somewhat better. “Yes sir.”
“Simon’s right; You didn't deserve any of that, nor me yelling at you in that interrogation room.” He begins, and you listen, not daring to argue for even a second. “If anything, the blame is completely on the 141 this time.”
“Sir—“
“That Second Lieutenant is the son of a General we’ve had.. problems with. I cant disclose it, you understand, but there’s no doubt this was a direct effort to get back at us. That was a cruel attempt to cause distrust between us as soldiers, and weaken us.”
Wait what? You were targeted and this wasnt just because of a stuck up son whose got daddy’s money. “So.. he didn't hate me, he was just listening to his orders?”
“Exactly that, kid. Simon was the one to realise the true nature of this, and the sergeants worked very hard to get testimonies from your teammates on the course. It seems even they had been forced to play along with the lies too.” He rummages around in his drawer for a moment, and pulls out a report of some kind, sliding it across to you.
Slowly you read through it, reading the list of the new orders for the Second Lieutenant or rather his ‘punishments’. The eight month long deployment was in one of the worst places you’ve heard only in rumours, but alas, it was either that or have a case against him for abuse of power. “This is only what’s on paper, you can rest assured that he’ll recieve worse things coming for him.”
“Thank you..” You’re grateful, really, and maybe a but of you is curious as to what that last thing he said means.. then again, Price almost looks proud of himself when you look at him. Did you even want to know what they plan to do to him?
“It’s the least we could’ve done.” He shakes his head at your gratitude, sliding the report back into his drawer again and locking it. “It’s happened now, no changing that. Trying to move forward is the smartest thing to do, but right now you’re only pushing yourself into the ground, kid. And I think you know why.”
You did, you really did. Somewhere deep down, probably subconsciously. You knew that you used the tactics you hated so much on yourself— because if you did it to yourself, then none of it ever happened. It wasn't as bad as you think it was.
“Captain,” You begin, hands grasping the fabric of your trousers, only realising how cold you really are now. He gives you a nod in response, leaning slightly back as he keeps his gaze on you. Your own head lifts, swallowing harshly as you try and look at him without crumbling.
“..I dont want to do this anymore.”
“You want to quit?” He raises a brow, but something in him stills just a little. It’s not often a soldier this far in will end up leaving— he’s only see a few do it, usually due to family problems or other issues that take precedence. Or they always had planned to leave at this point. Did he really drive you to this point? Where you thought you had no other option?
“No, just.. I know i selected that course when i was applying but..” You chew at your lip, and let out a long sigh. Thankfully your tears have all but run dry, so even if you feel like you could bawl your eyes out, you wont. “The whole physical field doesn't.. suit me. I thought i’d be stronger if i did it— like all of you. Everyone my rank chooses it, only a few select the others..”
“So you want to specialise in a different field? I’ll admit, i didn't expect you to want to do a close combat role anyway.” When he doesnt immediately dismiss your thoughts, you perk up a little, looking up at him.
“I- i’m not making the wrong decision, am I? The other ones are still good pathways?” Your eyes glimmer in his overhead light, the red rims of your eyelids practically shining despite everything that’s happened tonight. He hadn't expected the sudden relief when you denied wanting to quit. After all, it was their teams fault that you got in all that mess.
He chuckles, shaking his head at your nervous words— you really were a rookie still.
“Only cocky privates think close combat is the only redeemable job. If it werent for the specialists, the 141 wouldnt get any of our jobs done— that includes Sergeant Mactavish’s knowledge in demolitions.”
You swallow sharply, nodding to his words and taking them in. All this time you’d been so afraid that this was akin to giving up, admitting you’re weak and not cut out for this work. Little had you known that this whole time, the answer had been waiting for you. “Will I still be able to stay here?”
“Depends on what you choose. Might have to take a year out to move to a different unit.” You blink, suddenly terrified by that notion. It’s been a year and a half of living beside Simon, every single day without fail.What would you do without him?
“Relax, kid. You dont have to choose right now.” He stands, coming around the desk and pats your shoulder. “If you dont want to do close combat, you dont have to. But, I should still give you this.”
You hadnt seen him grab the envelope when he came over, clean white and you take it from his hands carefully. It seems a bit smaller than a4, and you carefully rip the edges before pulling out the sheet inside.
Certificate of Completion awarded to..
“This is mine..?”
“The other instructor signed it for you, as well as the General himself. For all the trouble his son caused to you.” Your thumb follows the curve of the signatures, before nodding quietly to his words. He didn't stop you from wanting to do another course even though he knew you achieved this one, with a high score too. “Do you still want to transfer?”
“..Yeah. I do.”
A part of you knew that you always wanted something else but you were too afraid to admit it, fearful of what the others thought. But after everything you’ve experienced in these past months.. maybe it was a sign.
“Good. Then we will talk about it tomorrow after we grab breakfast.” He ushers you up and you follow him towards the door, rubbing your eyes without a second thought. You really were quite tired now, and the time blinks closer to one am. “You’re lucky you didn't want to actually quit.”
“Why?”
“Wouldnt let ya. My lieutenant relies too much on you.”
Your cheeks burn at his words, and you shake your head, hands flailing about. “Sir, that’s not true— he probably hates me now anyway.. I totally freaked out on him..” You cant believe you’re telling a Captain about this of all people, but it comes out before you can stop it, shoulders slumping like a petulant teenager. “Sorry for disturbing you so late at night, sir.”
“I’m the one who caught you, to be fair.” He huffs chuckles, leading you out his office and walking beside you down the empty corridors. “You need to give yourself more credit— you had to navigate an extremely hard situation on your own, kid. It’s not easy having no one to back you. I’m sure Simon, of all people, understands your frustration.”
“You really think so?”
“Swear by it.” He stops outside the room, and knocks before you can, taking the pressure off. You stand there nervously but Simon soon opens the door, eyes softening immediately when he sees you and then moving to Price who had brought you here.
“Borrowed her for a bit” Price teases, a smile peeking through before he nudges you to move forward and you do, your throat bobbing nervously. “Come to my office tomorrow, kid, alright?”
You nod again, and Simon looks between you two before turning back to Price.
“Thank you.”
“Sort yourselves out and sleep. You both look like your soul’s been sucked straight out of you.”
—————————-
“I’m sorry I never responded to your messages.” He says it as soon as he clicks the door shut, as if he cant hold it in any longer. The sheets on his bed are tousled, like he had tossed and turned until you arrived just now. “I read and listened to them— at least the ones before you deleted it.”
“It’s alright, i didn't mean to throw that back on you before, I know you were busy—“
“I wasn't busy.” He lets his chest sink, and you fall quiet, confused to what he’s getting at here. “On a mission, months ago, we had an ally turn against us. He had information he should’ve never had about us— naturally we assumed someone must’ve leaked it. He looked directly at me, and told me to look into the people i know.”
For a moment you pause, unbelieving he had surrendered information that easily. Sure, it was vague, but still more than he’d ever tell.
“Price explained it to me, about the General that’s causing you problems. I.. understand.” You say with a soft sigh, feeling guilty for freaking out on him but he adamantly shakes his head, not taking your words.
“No—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid of me to be suspicious of you and i knew it, i did so i dont know why i was.”
He falls silent, throat clogged, because of course he knows why he did it. He doesnt even trust himself, let alone others. You wormed your way in so quickly, he had jumped to the idea that you must be a traitor because there’s no way he could ever act like this. Actually be close to someone. Good things never last with him, and he was sure this must be the catch he was always waiting for.
“When I saw you getting interrogated, I knew deep down it would never have been you. The sergeants helped me realise it. I’m.. really sorry. I should’ve defended you sooner— I should’ve checked on you the night you returned and the entire past week.”
It hurts that he didn't trust you initially, but even a seed of doubt in this line of work is something you must listen to. Besides, he may have not communicated it to you the best, but it’s clear he worked very hard to get you out of the situation when he could’ve just let them ‘handle’ it. And you’re incredibly grateful for that.
“Let me fix it, okay? You can ask anything of me— absolutely anything.” He wants to reach out, it’s obvious by how his fingers twitch but still dont move forward, hesitant.
So instead, you take the leap. It’s like the block between you vanishes, and immediately you wrap your arms around him tightly, squashing your cheek against his chest, right to his heart. The feeling is so foreign and so familiar it has you letting out a deep sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “Just.. hold me, please.”
One hand rests on your back carefully, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear into thin air. Slowly his other hand joins it too, until he’s holding you too. His nose presses against your hair, breathing you in as much as he can. “Y’can sleep in my bed the whole week, hell the month. I’ll do all your shopping, and whatever you need i’ll buy.” The promises are mumbled against the crown of your head as his arms lower, landing on your legs as he hoists you up easily and carries you over to his bed.
Gently, he lays you down, and only now do you see the ointments he has arranged on his bedside table. “What’s this..?” You raise a brow but he sits down next to you, the mattress sinking before he starts to open one of the tins.
“For your bruises, it’ll help. Roll up your sleeve, okay?”
Your mind eases as he spends the next few minutes rubbing soothing ointments to the aches in your joints, before pulling the covers high and sliding in beside you. The lamp flicks off and he wraps his arms around you, easily dragging you with how your limbs have become dead weight.
With you settled atop of him, looking content and not as miserable as before, he can finally let the anger leave him, chest sinking against your head. Sleep hasn't weighed so heavy on you in weeks, laying like a thick blanket over your mind now that you know you’re finally free from this torment.
“Y’asleep?” His voice is quiet, probably expecting you to not answer at all. You were seconds away from drifting off aswell, but something in you forces you to let your eyes open, glancing up at him.
You give a lazy noise in return, and he chuckles, hand grazing your neck. “Just glad you forgave me. Don't know what i would’ve done, might’ve got on my knees and begged.”
“Still got time.” You mumble and he laughs, nose burying into your hair as he squeezes you tight.
“In the morning, you need some good sleep for once.” He breathes out another sigh, letting silence fill the air once more, and the weight of you on him settles deep into his bones. He made the right choice, even if it was terrifying. He refuses to ever regret meeting you. “Don’t think i didn't hear your stomach rumble earlier— i’m gonna get you eating normally, y’hear me?”
Fuck— you were praying he didn't actually hear that on the way back from the mess— right after you had literally eaten dinner. It just had to go and start making noises, didn't it?!
“I am eating normally.” You grumble, weakly pushing away from him in a weak attempt to express feigned annoyance at his insistence. Not that he lets you, easily pulling you flush against him again.
“I’ll just tell the chefs to pile it higher on your plate, they aint gonna say no.” He chuckles at his own admission of abusing his rank’s power, and you attempt to hit him with your elbow, failing easily.
“But if i use your rank to get a better dessert that's somehow a crime.”
“Dont make me bring up your dentist reports.” His hand rubs up and down your side, letting the warmth of his hand ease you. “I’ll get you some bloody good dessert for the whole month, you’ll pray the mess hall even gets close to it one day. Now, sleep, before I put you out myself.”
“And they say chivalry is dead.” He lets out a snort at that, only to hear your breathing finally even out against him, chest sinking.
Still, he just quietly watches your body relax, how you completely let yourself be at peace. He wants to engrave it in his mind, because only now he’s realised how easily he can lose you. This time his hands splay across you too, gently grasping your shirt like you’ve done to him many times too. He understands it now— he’s always the one leaving you behind— he knows what it’s like to miss you like this.
His grip is probably selfish, something Johnny would poke fun at him for and Kyle would say he’s ‘actin’ a little desperate there?’ whilst Price would nod along ‘like he’s starved’. But he lets himself have it this time, eyes slipping close as he lets himself sink the same way you did. If he didn't, then one day he’d regret it a million times over. Luckily that day wasn't today.
So instead he lets the breath that’s been keeping him stiff go, breathing in the scent of you that melts his mind into jelly. “Night, love.” He murmurs, his breaths finally evening out to match your pace even in his sleep.
—————————
buy me a coffee!
Rookie masterlist
sleeping so hard tonight im exhausted and the examdidnt go well
part one here rookie masterlist
roommate!rookie!reader x lt ghost (a lot of price this chapter), hurt/comfort, implied intentional starving (to themself), mentions of physical abuse , happy ending
————————————-
You seem fine, he thinks. It’s breakfast and you’re talking to Kyle about whatever and you haven't actually been acting strange at all. In fact, it’s like you’ve bounced back completely, if not just with probably a few more sore muscles because of those crappy cell beds.
“Like a boomerang, aye? I thought she’d be at least a bit more shaken up after everything that happened..” Johnny murmurs to him as they sit opposite you, thankfully with enough space that you wouldnt hear them.
“Yeah..” Ghost nods in agreement, eyes flicking over to you occasionally. “Still, we’ll have to deal with that second lieutenant accordingly.”
You laugh at something and they both snap back to the conversation, intrigued to know what had gotten both of you so giggly. Everything was going perfectly fine since you were announced innocent by the 141.. until it just wasn't.
——
It all started the day after, when you returned to training with your group.
“Oh, you’re joining us today? Sergeant Mactavish said you might take a break.”
“They tried to make me but I knew i’d be bored out my mind. It’s okay, I want to train.” You give a forced smile as if your cheeks will hide the eyebags before starting your warmups like everyone else. One of them claps you on the back, giving you a grin and mentioning how they missed you for the time you had been gone.
Even training goes well too, like you never left. At one point you had almost frozen up when you were beaten by your opponent, but your instinct kicked in immediately and you scrambled backwards. The Second Lieutenant loved to see you writhing.
Whatever the circumstances, you swore you’d act like everything was okay. The last thing you wanted was to cause any more trouble for the 141.
“Good round, kid.” Your teammate helps you up, grasping your hand to pull you to your feet. “You lost a bit of weight on that course..” He raises a brow at you and then awkwardly pats your shoulder. “Anyway, you did good, and you look stronger too!”
Stronger? Is that what the torture of that course had really done to you?
“Hey— you okay? You look like you’ve seen a gh—“
“Forgot I had to run an errand straight after training. I need to go.” You pull out of his worried grip, his hand left awkwardly in the air as you grab your bag hastily and leave the room with the door thudding shut.
Your chest is tight, like you’re feeling the result of six weeks of abuse all in one moment because of one stupid comment. How did it make you better? It was hell, it was unfair, everyone there turned against you and—and—
“Mactavish— have you done the work I asked you to do?”
There’s about three seconds before you get caught and you dash into the electrical closet, holding the handle so abnormally tight that the red marks start to bloom across your palm.
Dont come in here, dont come near here. Please dont see me— please dont—
You only let out a sigh of relief when they finally turn down the corridor, chest heaving as you struggle to come to terms with it all.
————-
It’s been a day or so since that.. happened. But still lunchtimes were always more dreadful. Especially since you still aren't let out of that forsaken team who really doesn't want you around. To be fair, they’ve been less vocal about their opinions on you recently, or maybe it’s because you just let any fight you had left die out altogether.
“Wow.. you actually lost a few kilos? I never thought I'd see the day.” One of them mutters, but only a few snickers pass around compared to the usual. It wouldn't typically bother you, and you didn't explicitly react anyway. Yet something in you just stilled for a moment, bile churning in your stomach at the thought.
This is what you had wanted—to be approved by them.
So why did it feel so wretched?
You know why— deep down you do. It’s because the Second Lieutenant is the reason for this. Because he picked on you and ostracised you, kept your portion sizes one fit for weak prey and not predators like everyone else is supposed to be. He forced this on you.
How could you even complain? Not when they’re smiling in your face, praising the change about you, the obedience in your actions, the quick reactions.
Even if you’re unworthy, even if you were just forced to adopt all of those traits because that's only what the situation allowed for. Would they shame you if they knew the truth? Would they call you weak for thinking you’re the victim?
You swallow down the bite harshly, so much so you can feel the edges cut against your throat as you force it down. “I didn't do it on purpose.” is all you can say, a weak defence. Then you stand, dumping the scraps and leaving the mess hall.
——
The gym is thankfully empty and you’ve been waiting all week for it to be. It reminds you of all the nights you stayed up, trying to perfect your technique, trying to be accepted for once.
No matter how hard you push your limits, your muscles still cry out in pain, just as your head is consumed by flashbacks of those weeks. Still, you keep pushing to just fight back even a little, to prove you’re enough despite it all. That you’re not weak, and you can handle it, certification or not.
“Drink a little, catch ye breath before the next set.” Soap stands before you as you come up from a curl up, shocking you so much that you fall back against the mat. “Oops— didn't mean to scare ye.” He reaches down quickly to pull you back to sitting up before sitting on the bench nearby.
“S-sorry, I was thinking and you just.. caught me off guard.” Before you can ramble on any longer, you chug down half your water bottle instantly, making him raise a brow.
“Dont worry about it, bon. Just making sure you keep yourself healthy.” He flashes a grin at you, and you nod quietly to his words. Healthy. Not strong.. not thin or in good shape— Healthy.
You part your lips, wondering if you can really ask for this, if he’ll laugh in your face and say he’d beat you in seconds. What if he’s busy too?
“Y’need something?”
“N-no, it’s alright. Was just hoping you hadnt caught me doing too easy of a set, it’s only warmups i promise.” You joke and he laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t know what yer talking about; this is the hardest part of my workout.” He gives you one last chuckle before leaving you to it again, a wave of relief settling over you.
——————
“Are you holding up okay? You’ve been pretty.. quiet, all week now.”
Now you’re here, Simon staring at you as you unravel your boots. You don't know what had even happened in the past week—everything had been one massive blur.
The nights started being more sleepless, always rolling around and waking up with a tight chest. The comments made by people didn't help either, even if they weren't intended to be rude.
Time started to blend into each other, your mornings started to feel like a schedule and every conversation wasnt worth remembering. You were living like autopilot, and you couldnt really even care.
“I’m just trying to get back into routine…” You mumble out and he wants to call you out on your lying but he really can't this time. He’s been barely around, only giving you a few minutes of his time because he really cant afford anything with this current Shepherd situation. Still, he doesnt like not talking to you like this— hell, he feels like there’s a shift between you two and he hates it.
“Seems to be more than that.” He mutters, letting out a soft sigh as he stands from your bed. Slowly he makes his way to your drawers, pulling out a fresh shirt and joggers for you to wear to bed. “You sleeping in mine or am i coming to yours?”
“It’s Thursday..”
Your eyes do seem to widen a little bit, excited at the prospect even if it’s a weekday and out of his rules. But it’s still much duller than the reaction he was hoping for.
“I want to. When i come out, you better have made your mind up” He doesnt wait for your answer, tossing his mask on his bed as he heads into the bathroom.
—
“Thought you liked my bed better..” He mumbles as he finds you sat on your own, following close behind. He watches as you quietly slide beneath the covers, slipping behind instantly after you settle. “We wrapped up everything concerning the Second Lieutenant. He won't bother you again.”
He lays on his back beside you, an arm laid out which you tuck yourself beneath. His hand curls in your hair, gently scratching at your scalp before tugging you closer until you’re forced to roll over, face pressing against his bicep. “So you’ll be back earlier now?”
“Yeah, no more disappearing. For a good while at least.”
You nod quietly, letting an arm fall across his chest, gently gripping the thin shirt he’s wearing. He continues to move his fingers across your head, stroking gently as your eyes fall shut. Something isnt right with you, but he doesn't know how to point it out after all this time. Especially after everything that happened to you. He can't exactly nose into all your business.
“How about I help you with some training tomorrow?”
At that you stiffen, and he’s suddenly afraid he had said the wrong thing entirely. Instead you look up at him, slightly propping yourself up on your elbows. “Really? You’ll train me?”
“Yeah? Why not? Good for both of us, I reckon. I want to see how much you learned at that course too.”
———————————
“Lieutenant– you’re here already?” You tilt your head as you exit to see him there standing outside the room you just had scheduled training in and he nods, beckoning you to follow which you instantly do.
“Course I did. Promised, I'd help you today, wouldn't I?" You nod eagerly at his words, following him outside so you don't have to push through the bustle of soldiers just to get there. There’s a few teams out on the track, a grouped session it seems, and you’re naturally drawn to the noise.
“Ye got a minute Lt?” Johnny approaches up ahead, making you immediately nod, letting him delay your workout for a second. When he doesn't start immediately talking you get the hint, sheepishly smiling and heading over to a small bench to wait.
“It’s about the recent stuff with the Second Lieutenant..” He sighs and Simon raises a brow, assuming the past few nights he spent figuring it out with the Captain was more than enough. Had something changed? “Price wouldn’t let me look, it’s her medical exam.”
“Thanks Johnny, i’ll read it when I can.” He pats him on the shoulder after taking the files from his hands, ignoring the concern rising. You’ve been doing okay, if he presses further you might get annoyed with him.
“Private, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get out– now!”
Both of them turn their heads, not towards the Sergeant yelling across the field, but to your harsh flinch in their peripheral view. Your body had frozen up but you had reacted harsh enough that it was impossible to ignore.
“They’ve done that a few times, Simon..” Johnny sighs, having heard your CO mention it but he wasnt sure if he should report it not. You got startled sometimes– but this was totally different.
“I’ll.. look into it properly.” He stares down at the file as you take a deep breath to steady yourself, seemingly just noticing how you reacted. “Thanks again.”
He can't stop repeating the image in his head as you walk beside him, tapping away at something on your phone. You never even did anything wrong, clean as a slate compared the crimes of the taskforce. Even this medical file has him dreading everything; what would he find in there?
“Alright, come on.” He stills the anger thumping through him, concentrating on you as you stand before him on this mat, the room mostly empty. “Show me what you’ve got.”
———
His hand catches yours and you tense, already expecting the throw down. That wasnt just the Second Lieutenant who did that, your old teammates always finished a spar the same too.
After all, a real fist fight wouldnt end after you surrender.
His do.
“Mmm, definitely a lot faster than the last time we did this. You really did a lot of work didn't you?” He doesnt let go of your hand, gently guiding it where he wants to demonstrate. “Try hit here next time, same move, just aim for this area, okay?”
You nod, trying not think too hard about the fact you can feel his pulse beating beneath your hand, or the slight rub of his thumb on your skin as he helps you. So, you start from the beginning, the same move, aiming there. He staggers back this time and your eyes widen in relief, before immediately panicking once you realise what you did.
“S-sorry should i have not gone that hard?! I didn't mean to—“
“Relax, I wouldnt be SAS if i couldnt handle a good hit or two every now and then.” He chuckles, patting your shoulder and finding his footing again. So you go again, and again, and each and every time he adjusts you correctly, even when your body braces for a blow it hardly ever comes.
It feels.. wrong.
“You’re going easy on me.” You’re chugging water again, like it’ll inject energy directly into your veins, but it’s the closest thing you have right now.
“I’m not gonna punch your teeth in, am I?” He rolls his eyes at your complaints, offering you a snack bar.. annoyingly it is your favourite.
It’d be more concerning if you declined it though, so you reluctantly take it, ignoring the way your mouth waters at the thought of the dark chocolate drizzle on it. It’s been a while since you’ve had sugar, surprisingly.
“You think im weak.” You huff in return, chewing down the first bite whilst feeling yourself start to thrum with life at something entering your system for the first time in hours.
“No one in your team is strong enough to go up against any SAS soldier.” He hums, poking your cheek just to rile you up until you're glaring at him. “And i dont think you’re weak. Don’t fancy dealing with an incident report today.”
“What would you do if i was a real traitor huh? You’d underestimate me, and then before you know if i’d kill you” With your hands planted on your hips, you challenge him, narrowing your eyes.
Unlucky for you, he just chuckles, shaking his head despite your faux serious demeanor. “I’d like you see you try. Now, come on, we’ve got half and hour until dinner.”
——————
You’re in the shower, scrubbing the grime of the day away and he collapses into his desk chair, rolling backwards from the force of it. Something was definitely wrong— there was no doubt about that, but he couldnt just say it outright. You had been a lot more happier today than the last two weeks.
His gaze drifts down to the files Johnny had handed him, and he glances one more time towards the bathroom door before opening it. The card rustles as he undoes the cover, revealing the medical reports beneath, just as he was told. The blood tests show your vitals were lower than usual, along with your measured weight— he’d consider that almost a dangerous low.
To be honest, he had noticed the change himself, but you’d been dressing yourself in a way where it didn't seem this bad. He flicks to the next page, the documentation of injuries whilst out on the trip, delivered by a nurse who had been working there.
You had broken your nose within the first week.
The report states that it was an accident, but after hearing how your teammates confessed to Kyle about what happened, he knows it’s a severe understatement. With each page he turns, he only sees more and more injuries, small and big, but too many regardless.
A loose sheet falls out when he reaches the end, already sick to the stomach, and he recognises it as the information Kyle collected from your teammates. Their witness statements.
—————
The bathroom door clicks open and you stretch your arms above your head, wondering if you should dry your wet hair since it’s already nearing ten pm now. Though when you look up to see him sitting on your bed, his gaze set on you, you pause.
“C’mere, we need to talk.”
The words are heavy, but not harsh, and somehow that scares you a little more. In a way he feels like the Captain did in that interrogation room— what if the accusations were back again? Your heart thumps erratically in your ears as you step forward, your clothes sticking to your damp body like a rope around your limbs. “Lieutenant, I—“
“You never call me by my name anymore.” He suddenly says, and you stand before him— this time you’re the one looking down at him.
“I.. in the interrogation room it felt like i’d get in trouble if i did. I just.. i didn't want it to make it worse than it was.” You stammer out, already well aware that you hadnt addressed any of them by anything other than their rank for weeks now. It felt wrong to pretend you were actually on their level.
He reaches out, hand wrapping around your wrist in a way that has your eyes locked onto him, fighting to not brace for impact like you usually would. Instead he pulls you forward, a small tug that you easily follow, until you’re standing between his knees, his eyes staring up at you. There’s silence for a few moments, and he takes advantage of it to slowly move your sleeve upwards.
“You lost a lot of weight..” He wants to say more, you can tell, but the feeling that’s been attacking you all week suddenly comes back full force, making you swallow. You should’ve known he’d prefer it too. “Y-yeah.. everyone keeps saying that.”
“They’re worried about you too..”
You pause for way too long, and he notices, propping himself up so he can look over at you. “Y’alright? You dont feel ill or somethin’, do you?”
“No- no, it’s just.. a lot of people were glad that’s all. Happy I lost weight.”
“What?” His tone is sharper than usual, and he suddenly turns you around to face him, his eyes narrowed and almost pissed. “I’ll support whatever you want, but this isn't healthy to lose weight this fast. Why would they even say that?”
“Simon..” You begin, his sudden words throwing you off guard. Where everyone else had praised the lasting effects of the abuse, he had validated your feelings— but now it just feels wrong.
He just shakes his head, the rise and fall of his chest too heavy for you to challenge. Now he sees it right before him; the marks where the stitches would’ve been, the fresh pink scars, and the faintest remains of the extensive bruising that was pictured in your files.
“Turn around.” He murmurs and you do, letting him lift you to sit atop his knees and you feel the cool air hit your back as he witnesses the marks back there even worse than the others. Even with the week passed, he can tell— he knows what was here before.
The shirt falls again, arms now snaking to your middle as he pulls your back flush against his chest. “Why didn't you tell any of us?”
“It’s part of the job. You all get scraped up too.” You mumble, tensing when he lets out a heavy exhale, only for him to shake his head against your hair.
“No. This is not part of the job, sweetheart. This is not right—” His words are angry in your ear, fingers grasping the fabric of your shirt as his arms tighten.
“I-it’s bad luck. He just didn't like me— it happens to everyone.”
That’s what they all told you— he was a nepo baby, you just have to deal with it. It’s his way of discipline. There isnt any such thing as unfair or unjust— fairness doesnt exist on a battlefield.
“And who the fuck told you that, huh?” He turns you around in his grip, forcing you to look at him and his narrowed brows. He’s pissed, and you know it’s not aimed at you and yet still it makes you freeze up. “That’s bullshit. No one in authority should ever be sending a soldier to bed looking like this— even if they’re a right twat. You hear me?”
“Simon— we were training, it’s my own fault for not dodging effectively. If I had been just a bit better—“
“Dont say that.”
You pause, looking up to see his eyes shut, one hand pinching his brow as he grimaces. “Training is called that for a reason. You learn the moves, and you practice them. Your instructor doesnt let you feel the effects of a true fight until he knows you can. He abused you, and no one fucking stood up for you.”
You knew that. Of course you fucking knew that.
This entire time you’ve been well aware of what he did to you, how cruel it was. You feel the pain every morning when you wake up, every time you hear a voice rise too high or even worse a hand coming too close. You knew but everyone else refused to.
“I’m not weak.”
“I didn't say—“
“I’m not!” You pull away as he tries to pull you closer, standing before him again. The beat of your heart is pumping hard and you wish your arms could wrap around yourself to contain it tight.
“I- i worked hard the entire time! W-when he cut me off from the s-showers i went down to the lake, when he wouldn't let me eat i rationed- it’s— it’s not— i cooperated for the e-entire interrogation a-and—“
You choke on your own words, feeling that sickness rise in your throat, the guilt and shame swelling it shut. It’s all too much— the throbbing where the bruises once were, the cold bed of the cell, the growl of your stomach. Your palms push hard at your eyes, rubbing the skin raw and red as you force any sense of wetness down— down back into your body. Soldiers don't feel like this— they don't complain and they listen to orders exactly as told. They don't question the system.
“I got through it..I did everything like I was told.”
You mumble through hiccups, making your throat jump as your eyes squeeze shut. “Why is that not enough? Why won't you all just let it go already?” The dam breaks, sobs leaking onto your palms despite your best efforts.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that— none of this is because of you.” He stands, reaching a hand out hesitantly but deciding against it as you continue to sob, sleeves already way past damp.
“It’s been a whole week and i’m still in pain— i’m still acting like this. I- i didn't even get the certification Simon!” This time you turn away, cheeks glistening in the lamplight as you hiccup, too embarrassed of yourself to face him. “It has to be my fault.. you never even responded to my messages once.”
This time, he truly has no answer for. He was planning to tell you why, he really was. But then he got so angry seeing that they took advantage of your proximity to the team and used you as leverage like that. The General of all people stooped that low.
When he just sighs, sitting back down on your bed, you finally take a glance at him, having managed to settle the tears for a few seconds. He looked exhausted and entirely done with all of this. You couldnt help but feel the guilt weigh heavy on your chest.
Every single time he’s forced to comfort you. Rumours, illness, menstrual pain, anxieties and even your own pitiful insecurities. You should’ve known from the first day you showed up here that you’d be your own demise, stuttering like a child as you stood outside his room. What good have you done since that day? Apart from grabbing him a meal or the odd task, you were useless to him. Maybe he was right, you didn't deserve any of this because you werent even someone that useful anyway. Why they’d choose to frame you of all people if beyond you.
For a moment you just stare at him, the muscles in your face tightening and your breaths only getting more frantic. What have you done? You ruined it— he gave you, so, so many chances. And you blew it? Should you beg for forgiveness? For him to hold you one more time? It’s been so long, months since he’s had you properly. One step, you could move forward and maybe he’d give you mercy.
You can barely make a strangled noise before you’re suddenly turning, grabbing your keys, wallet, phone and your jacket, zipping it up high. You don't know where to go, but you can't let him babysit you much longer.
———————————
Maybe you’ll sleep out here tonight, with the quiet ripples of the lake, just like every night you did for two weeks of that course.
It feels stupid to have run away like you did now, but somehow crawling back seems even worse. Not for your dignity, you gave up on that long ago, but because of the fear he might actually be relieved you’re gone.
“Don’t do anything stupid; it’s not worth it.”
You scramble to your feet insantly, spinning on your heel to see the Captain there, his signature jacket wrapped over a warm sweater beneath. His eyes are just as tired as Simon’s have been, but still somehow his authority is strong over you, arms crossed over his chest.
“I- i wasnt going to..” You mumble, slowly shuffling away from where your legs dangled off the edge to stand up properly.
“You’re standing by the lake at midnight, kid. Come here, now.”
He gestures to you to come over, and you instinctively glance at the time on your phone as you slip your shoes on. It was past midnight, almost halfway now— how did time go by that fast? You come to stand before him, hands flat at your side and throat tight as you keep your gaze ahead— like a loyal soldier.
“You’re going to get sick.” He pulls the hat off his head, placing it on yours and making sure it covers you properly. Maybe to hide away a bit of your red rimmed eyes too. “Inside, now.”
——-
His office is warm, but you dont get the honour of sitting on the small couch this time, forced to sit right opposite his desk.
“You can start by explaining why you were out there, on your own, at midnight, looking like this.”
“The Lieutenant was concerned about me and i.. ran away. It was my fault.” You say, voice quiet but clear now that he’s the one asking. It’s been a week since you spoke to him last, when the interrogation was all over and you were free. “He wasn't happy with the results of my medical exam..how i was treated on the course and i.. i..”
You can’t finish your words because you dont know how to describe your response. A disagreement? An argument? A breakdown? It was too embarrassing, but here you are now, your eyes boring holes at your lap.
“I’m guessing you wanted to just move past everything that happened. Pretend it strengthened you, instead of the impact it actually had.” He crosses his arms as he sits down, eyes set straight on you and not moving for a second.
You stare down at your body, the way your limbs feel heavier than usual, the familiar ache in your stomach you learned to ignore. You quietly nod, in hopes that’ll make it somewhat better. “Yes sir.”
“Simon’s right; You didn't deserve any of that, nor me yelling at you in that interrogation room.” He begins, and you listen, not daring to argue for even a second. “If anything, the blame is completely on the 141 this time.”
“Sir—“
“That Second Lieutenant is the son of a General we’ve had.. problems with. I cant disclose it, you understand, but there’s no doubt this was a direct effort to get back at us. That was a cruel attempt to cause distrust between us as soldiers, and weaken us.”
Wait what? You were targeted and this wasnt just because of a stuck up son whose got daddy’s money. “So.. he didn't hate me, he was just listening to his orders?”
“Exactly that, kid. Simon was the one to realise the true nature of this, and the sergeants worked very hard to get testimonies from your teammates on the course. It seems even they had been forced to play along with the lies too.” He rummages around in his drawer for a moment, and pulls out a report of some kind, sliding it across to you.
Slowly you read through it, reading the list of the new orders for the Second Lieutenant or rather his ‘punishments’. The eight month long deployment was in one of the worst places you’ve heard only in rumours, but alas, it was either that or have a case against him for abuse of power. “This is only what’s on paper, you can rest assured that he’ll recieve worse things coming for him.”
“Thank you..” You’re grateful, really, and maybe a but of you is curious as to what that last thing he said means.. then again, Price almost looks proud of himself when you look at him. Did you even want to know what they plan to do to him?
“It’s the least we could’ve done.” He shakes his head at your gratitude, sliding the report back into his drawer again and locking it. “It’s happened now, no changing that. Trying to move forward is the smartest thing to do, but right now you’re only pushing yourself into the ground, kid. And I think you know why.”
You did, you really did. Somewhere deep down, probably subconsciously. You knew that you used the tactics you hated so much on yourself— because if you did it to yourself, then none of it ever happened. It wasn't as bad as you think it was.
“Captain,” You begin, hands grasping the fabric of your trousers, only realising how cold you really are now. He gives you a nod in response, leaning slightly back as he keeps his gaze on you. Your own head lifts, swallowing harshly as you try and look at him without crumbling.
“..I dont want to do this anymore.”
“You want to quit?” He raises a brow, but something in him stills just a little. It’s not often a soldier this far in will end up leaving— he’s only see a few do it, usually due to family problems or other issues that take precedence. Or they always had planned to leave at this point. Did he really drive you to this point? Where you thought you had no other option?
“No, just.. I know i selected that course when i was applying but..” You chew at your lip, and let out a long sigh. Thankfully your tears have all but run dry, so even if you feel like you could bawl your eyes out, you wont. “The whole physical field doesn't.. suit me. I thought i’d be stronger if i did it— like all of you. Everyone my rank chooses it, only a few select the others..”
“So you want to specialise in a different field? I’ll admit, i didn't expect you to want to do a close combat role anyway.” When he doesnt immediately dismiss your thoughts, you perk up a little, looking up at him.
“I- i’m not making the wrong decision, am I? The other ones are still good pathways?” Your eyes glimmer in his overhead light, the red rims of your eyelids practically shining despite everything that’s happened tonight. He hadn't expected the sudden relief when you denied wanting to quit. After all, it was their teams fault that you got in all that mess.
He chuckles, shaking his head at your nervous words— you really were a rookie still.
“Only cocky privates think close combat is the only redeemable job. If it werent for the specialists, the 141 wouldnt get any of our jobs done— that includes Sergeant Mactavish’s knowledge in demolitions.”
You swallow sharply, nodding to his words and taking them in. All this time you’d been so afraid that this was akin to giving up, admitting you’re weak and not cut out for this work. Little had you known that this whole time, the answer had been waiting for you. “Will I still be able to stay here?”
“Depends on what you choose. Might have to take a year out to move to a different unit.” You blink, suddenly terrified by that notion. It’s been a year and a half of living beside Simon, every single day without fail.What would you do without him?
“Relax, kid. You dont have to choose right now.” He stands, coming around the desk and pats your shoulder. “If you dont want to do close combat, you dont have to. But, I should still give you this.”
You hadnt seen him grab the envelope when he came over, clean white and you take it from his hands carefully. It seems a bit smaller than a4, and you carefully rip the edges before pulling out the sheet inside.
Certificate of Completion awarded to..
“This is mine..?”
“The other instructor signed it for you, as well as the General himself. For all the trouble his son caused to you.” Your thumb follows the curve of the signatures, before nodding quietly to his words. He didn't stop you from wanting to do another course even though he knew you achieved this one, with a high score too. “Do you still want to transfer?”
“..Yeah. I do.”
A part of you knew that you always wanted something else but you were too afraid to admit it, fearful of what the others thought. But after everything you’ve experienced in these past months.. maybe it was a sign.
“Good. Then we will talk about it tomorrow after we grab breakfast.” He ushers you up and you follow him towards the door, rubbing your eyes without a second thought. You really were quite tired now, and the time blinks closer to one am. “You’re lucky you didn't want to actually quit.”
“Why?”
“Wouldnt let ya. My lieutenant relies too much on you.”
Your cheeks burn at his words, and you shake your head, hands flailing about. “Sir, that’s not true— he probably hates me now anyway.. I totally freaked out on him..” You cant believe you’re telling a Captain about this of all people, but it comes out before you can stop it, shoulders slumping like a petulant teenager. “Sorry for disturbing you so late at night, sir.”
“I’m the one who caught you, to be fair.” He huffs chuckles, leading you out his office and walking beside you down the empty corridors. “You need to give yourself more credit— you had to navigate an extremely hard situation on your own, kid. It’s not easy having no one to back you. I’m sure Simon, of all people, understands your frustration.”
“You really think so?”
“Swear by it.” He stops outside the room, and knocks before you can, taking the pressure off. You stand there nervously but Simon soon opens the door, eyes softening immediately when he sees you and then moving to Price who had brought you here.
“Borrowed her for a bit” Price teases, a smile peeking through before he nudges you to move forward and you do, your throat bobbing nervously. “Come to my office tomorrow, kid, alright?”
You nod again, and Simon looks between you two before turning back to Price.
“Thank you.”
“Sort yourselves out and sleep. You both look like your soul’s been sucked straight out of you.”
—————————-
“I’m sorry I never responded to your messages.” He says it as soon as he clicks the door shut, as if he cant hold it in any longer. The sheets on his bed are tousled, like he had tossed and turned until you arrived just now. “I read and listened to them— at least the ones before you deleted it.”
“It’s alright, i didn't mean to throw that back on you before, I know you were busy—“
“I wasn't busy.” He lets his chest sink, and you fall quiet, confused to what he’s getting at here. “On a mission, months ago, we had an ally turn against us. He had information he should’ve never had about us— naturally we assumed someone must’ve leaked it. He looked directly at me, and told me to look into the people i know.”
For a moment you pause, unbelieving he had surrendered information that easily. Sure, it was vague, but still more than he’d ever tell.
“Price explained it to me, about the General that’s causing you problems. I.. understand.” You say with a soft sigh, feeling guilty for freaking out on him but he adamantly shakes his head, not taking your words.
“No—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid of me to be suspicious of you and i knew it, i did so i dont know why i was.”
He falls silent, throat clogged, because of course he knows why he did it. He doesnt even trust himself, let alone others. You wormed your way in so quickly, he had jumped to the idea that you must be a traitor because there’s no way he could ever act like this. Actually be close to someone. Good things never last with him, and he was sure this must be the catch he was always waiting for.
“When I saw you getting interrogated, I knew deep down it would never have been you. The sergeants helped me realise it. I’m.. really sorry. I should’ve defended you sooner— I should’ve checked on you the night you returned and the entire past week.”
It hurts that he didn't trust you initially, but even a seed of doubt in this line of work is something you must listen to. Besides, he may have not communicated it to you the best, but it’s clear he worked very hard to get you out of the situation when he could’ve just let them ‘handle’ it. And you’re incredibly grateful for that.
“Let me fix it, okay? You can ask anything of me— absolutely anything.” He wants to reach out, it’s obvious by how his fingers twitch but still dont move forward, hesitant.
So instead, you take the leap. It’s like the block between you vanishes, and immediately you wrap your arms around him tightly, squashing your cheek against his chest, right to his heart. The feeling is so foreign and so familiar it has you letting out a deep sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “Just.. hold me, please.”
One hand rests on your back carefully, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear into thin air. Slowly his other hand joins it too, until he’s holding you too. His nose presses against your hair, breathing you in as much as he can. “Y’can sleep in my bed the whole week, hell the month. I’ll do all your shopping, and whatever you need i’ll buy.” The promises are mumbled against the crown of your head as his arms lower, landing on your legs as he hoists you up easily and carries you over to his bed.
Gently, he lays you down, and only now do you see the ointments he has arranged on his bedside table. “What’s this..?” You raise a brow but he sits down next to you, the mattress sinking before he starts to open one of the tins.
“For your bruises, it’ll help. Roll up your sleeve, okay?”
Your mind eases as he spends the next few minutes rubbing soothing ointments to the aches in your joints, before pulling the covers high and sliding in beside you. The lamp flicks off and he wraps his arms around you, easily dragging you with how your limbs have become dead weight.
With you settled atop of him, looking content and not as miserable as before, he can finally let the anger leave him, chest sinking against your head. Sleep hasn't weighed so heavy on you in weeks, laying like a thick blanket over your mind now that you know you’re finally free from this torment.
“Y’asleep?” His voice is quiet, probably expecting you to not answer at all. You were seconds away from drifting off aswell, but something in you forces you to let your eyes open, glancing up at him.
You give a lazy noise in return, and he chuckles, hand grazing your neck. “Just glad you forgave me. Don't know what i would’ve done, might’ve got on my knees and begged.”
“Still got time.” You mumble and he laughs, nose burying into your hair as he squeezes you tight.
“In the morning, you need some good sleep for once.” He breathes out another sigh, letting silence fill the air once more, and the weight of you on him settles deep into his bones. He made the right choice, even if it was terrifying. He refuses to ever regret meeting you. “Don’t think i didn't hear your stomach rumble earlier— i’m gonna get you eating normally, y’hear me?”
Fuck— you were praying he didn't actually hear that on the way back from the mess— right after you had literally eaten dinner. It just had to go and start making noises, didn't it?!
“I am eating normally.” You grumble, weakly pushing away from him in a weak attempt to express feigned annoyance at his insistence. Not that he lets you, easily pulling you flush against him again.
“I’ll just tell the chefs to pile it higher on your plate, they aint gonna say no.” He chuckles at his own admission of abusing his rank’s power, and you attempt to hit him with your elbow, failing easily.
“But if i use your rank to get a better dessert that's somehow a crime.”
“Dont make me bring up your dentist reports.” His hand rubs up and down your side, letting the warmth of his hand ease you. “I’ll get you some bloody good dessert for the whole month, you’ll pray the mess hall even gets close to it one day. Now, sleep, before I put you out myself.”
“And they say chivalry is dead.” He lets out a snort at that, only to hear your breathing finally even out against him, chest sinking.
Still, he just quietly watches your body relax, how you completely let yourself be at peace. He wants to engrave it in his mind, because only now he’s realised how easily he can lose you. This time his hands splay across you too, gently grasping your shirt like you’ve done to him many times too. He understands it now— he’s always the one leaving you behind— he knows what it’s like to miss you like this.
His grip is probably selfish, something Johnny would poke fun at him for and Kyle would say he’s ‘actin’ a little desperate there?’ whilst Price would nod along ‘like he’s starved’. But he lets himself have it this time, eyes slipping close as he lets himself sink the same way you did. If he didn't, then one day he’d regret it a million times over. Luckily that day wasn't today.
So instead he lets the breath that’s been keeping him stiff go, breathing in the scent of you that melts his mind into jelly. “Night, love.” He murmurs, his breaths finally evening out to match your pace even in his sleep.
—————————
buy me a coffee! Rookie masterlist
sleeping so hard tonight im exhausted and the first examdidnt go well, also fr going on a break now i need it thanks for the support hope you guys like this :)
in another time, it’s 2018 and i made a gacha life music video of my weaponised series where reaper sings along to ‘born without a heart’ and everyone goes wild
'local girl realises she has free will' you're so real for that, lol
HAHAHA i genuinely got so sad because i was like DAMNIT i havent watched the movie and mid writing the tags i realised literally no one is stopping me, i’ve read dc content without touching a comic or a movie relating to the character. I am a girl who can do no wrong
It was a vulnerable thing to request, and a sharp lump sat in your throat. Your hands shook with nerves. You wanted to explain yourself, create a sort of a scientific graph with all of your emotional data and present it to Ryland like you’re doing nothing but a simple task on the ship. But human things—messy human things—rarely made themselves easy to communicate. Least of all in a scientific way.
All you knew was that the strangled feeling stuck inside your chest were all different colours. One was coloured grief, the other anger, and another as guilt. You’re still trying to recall the memories that explain that one, but you’re terrified of what you might find.
You fidgeted with your hands in front of your stomach, confidence shrinking by the second.
“If it’s okay with you?” you added quietly.
Ryland’s face had morphed from confused, to concerned, to hesitant (but not unwilling). He stepped closer to bring his hands to yours, gently prying them apart and guiding them upward. You followed his silent instructions, and wrapped your arms around his neck.
You heard him expel a breath, somewhat shakily.
“This okay?” Ryland asked, and his arms folded behind you, pressing into the small of your back.
You nearly sobbed (you should be asking him that), but choked back the sound by pressing your nose into his shoulder. In many ways, Ryland continuously reminded you that regardless of the situations he found himself in, he gave up his comfort (and his physical body) to help. He was a constant string of sacrifices, an endless loop of giving.
It made an ugly feeling strike through your gut. When was the last time he asked for something in return?
Closing your eyes, you sunk deeper into Ryland’s hold and hoped to convey wordlessly that he could hold you the way he needed to. That he could hold you tight; grip you selfishly.
The seconds ticked by, and the awkward silence that had settled over the ship began to morph into something softer. You realised that Rocky was also in the room, but hadn’t made a single sound. Not even his translator echoed mechanically in the air, asking questions.
Ryland quietly cleared his throat. “Did you want to—uh, talk… about it?”
His question was followed by his thumb rubbing a small crescent into your back. You turned your head to press your cheek against Ryland’s shoulder, gaze idly running along the floor.
“No,” you murmured. “But thanks for asking.”
Ryland nodded his head, exhaling through his nose. After a short moment, you felt his cheek press against the side of your head.
You couldn’t say when the two of you began to sway, but, at some point, your heart rates had synced with one another, beating in tandem while your bodies rocked side to side. There wasn’t any music to accompany you; you weren’t sharing a romantic dance.
Your lips briefly twitched with a faint smile as you imagined Rocky asking you about it.
Why Grace and Y/N move to side on repeat. Question.
You weren’t good with numbers or molecular biology like Ryland, but you knew a lot about the human body. And you knew that people rocked themselves when they needed comfort. Maybe Eridians did something similar? You’d explain it to the overly enthusiastic alien, but the thought left you when Ryland moved his hand up your back, palm splayed against your spine.
“This is nice,” Ryland whispered.
You hummed, and tears crowded the edges of your vision.
“Same time tomorrow?”
You let out a wet giggle, muffling it into his shirt.
Ryland let out a soft huff, his smile trailing after his breath and hidden from view.
Me and my friend have been working on some oc content, not cod unfortunately, we have our own little story and all and its so silly i love it cant wait to show you guys too when its done
how do you go about writing? Like do you write in complete silence or do you have something on in the background? idk i’m just curious. i’m lowkey new to writing so i gotta know what’s the norm here…
i like to have rain noises or classical music but sometimes i need dead silence so i can focus loll
(also what app do you write in….?)
bro my whole reply i had here got deleted bcus i accidentally swiped off the tab 😞
ANYWAY I use google docs cause i like the multiple tabs feature in one document, the simple layout. I know a lot of people prefer Ellipsus because of their anti-ai stance and i feel i may move there soon. I also regularly backup my work just incase!
for writing, these days i sit on my phone for an hour and a half before bed and write. That’s the longest time i have, but other than that i also write throughout the day. Usually at breakfast i’ll write a little, at lunch i’ll do it and basically any free moment i get.
when i write on my phone its in complete silence, it helps me concentrate better and also i cba to get headphones. If i want a reallt focused writing session (my weaponised series or a serious fic) i go on my laptop and listen to slower songs, beabadobee, of monsters and men, and also a lot of video game themes. I do try to keep away from any upbeat songs especially when writing angst cause it throws me off.
i hope this helps, my writing methods have been scattered since exams started, i just use literally any time i have available
random PSA, I know a lot of people use duckduckgo as a Google alternative search engine, but it always kind of annoyed me when I was using it because it felt like No Name Brand Google
I have switched to using Startpage.com and vastly prefer it. for one thing, instead of displaying an "AI summary" at the top of the search results (unless you turn it off, yes I know), it displays the first paragraph of the Wikipedia article, with link, whenever it finds one that's relevant.
also a waaayyyyy better sense of design than duckduckgo
also private, European based, least annoying search I've used lately (RIP old "don't be evil" Google)
i have one of those, scraped from multiple different rec posts:
Search Engines
Infinity Search is an alternative search engine with a special focus on privacy
DuckDuckGo is a popular search engine for those who value their privacy and are put off by the thought of their every query being tracked and logged. Uses bangs, ![site] for in-page search (sells your data to microsoft and draws from fucking bing)
WolframAlpha is a privately owned search engine that allows you to “compute expert-level answers using Wolfram’s breakthrough algorithms, knowledgebase, and AI technology.” A data search engine.
Boardreader is a search engine for forums and message boards. It allows you to search forums and then filter down results by date and language.
Based in France, Qwant is a privacy-based search engine that won’t record your searches or use your personal details for advertising. Uses “&” as a bang search.
Another privacy-based search engine is Search Encrypt, which uses local encryption to ensure that users’ identifiable information cannot be tracked. Metasearch across multiple engines.
Offering unbiased results from several sources, SearX is a metasearch engine that aims to present a free, decentralized view of the internet. Can be self-hosted.
Gibiru’s tagline is “Unfiltered private search” and that’s exactly what it offers. Requires AnonymoX Firefox add-on for privacy.
Disconnect allows you to conduct anonymous searches through a search engine of your choice.
Swisscows provides fully encrypted searches to protect your privacy and security. Built-in violence/porn filter cannot be overridden.
MetaGer offers “Privacy Protected Search & Find” through its anonymised search. A plugin will allow it to be made a default.
Gigablast is a private search engine that indexes millions of websites and servers real-time information without tracking your data, keeping you hidden from marketers and spammers. Variety of filtration and refinement options for searching.
Oscobo is a search engine that protects your privacy while you search the web. By not using any third-party tools or scripts, your data is protected from hacking and misuse. Has a Chrome extension to allow use in toolbar.
https://search.marginalia.nu/ an independent DIY search engine that focuses on non-commercial content, and attempts to show you sites you perhaps weren't aware of in favor of the sort of sites you probably already knew existed. Use old-school searching rather than query-based for the best results.
https://www.mojeek.com/
https://wiby.me/ - It’s goal is to index as many personalized websites as possible, and NOT commercial sites.
https://4get.ca/ it works a lot like SearX, but honestly better. It doesn’t have its own index, but pulls from many others. I think it’s the best for research, since it allows you to search for answers from different indexes, is easy to configure, add free, and avoids censorship as much as it can.
https://www.searchenginemap.com/ for more on how search engines relate to each other.
https://yep.com/ is a crawler
https://www.etools.ch/ retrieves from Google, Mojeek, Bing, and Yandex, like Searx
https://www.dogpile.com/
https://searxng.org/ (next gen Searx)
https://luxxle.com/ - possibly conservative?
https://presearch.com/ - good for academic?
https://kagi.com/smallweb - free/randomised Kagi.
Other Searchers
www.refseek.com - Academic Resource Search. More than a billion sources: encyclopedia, monographies, magazines.
www.worldcat.org - a search for the contents of 20 thousand worldwide libraries. Find out where lies the nearest rare book you need.
https://link.springer.com - access to more than 10 million scientific documents: books, articles, research protocols.
www.bioline.org.br is a library of scientific bioscience journals published in developing countries.
http://repec.org - volunteers from 102 countries have collected almost 4 million publications on economics and related science.
www.science.gov is an American state search engine on 2200+ scientific sites. More than 200 million articles are indexed.
www.base-search.net is one of the most powerful researches on academic studies texts. More than 100 million scientific documents, 70% of them are free.https://cosine.club/ is an electronic music similarity search engine
