#cod 22

[sirbonesly]

icl, the ftm x simon fic hit almost too close to home. it’s insane how my exact thoughts and feelings can be put into words by someone else, thank you. i think i’ve understood myself more thru that fic too

oh, I've been noticed. Uhm, yeah, that fic was probably my favourite thing I've written in a while, and I put a lot of my own experiences into Reader. So, have some epilogue! I'd say it's probably set a few months after the events of the first one.

Things didn't rush into place like you thought they might. Maybe you expected those nasty thoughts about your body to leave, or that you'd have some greater outlook on life. But everything settles back down into normalcy.

Simon doesn't change much, but his team notices he stops talking about his 'bird' or his 'girl'. Price assumes that you two broke up, Gaz assumes the same but is a bit more saddened for his Leftenant. Johnny doesn't believe it for a minute, would be able to tell if Simon broke up with you. He wouldn't have that dopey smile on his face after his lunch breaks, and he wouldn't be so adamant about leaving the office he's been assigned at a reasonable time.

It comes to a head, a few months later, when Simon invites his mates along to the pub. You haven't changed much, neither you or Simon make enough to afford any surgeries so soon. But you've put on some muscle, you keep your hair shaved, got better at cutting it yourself with Simon's help. And you've let yourself actually explore a sense of style you like, stealing quite a bit of inspiration from Gaz. The man dressed nice, you can't be blamed.

Johnny, Price, and Gaz all arrive at the set time, and each of them notice the new look you have. Johnny is particularly smug, grinning ear from ear as he picks up what you've gone through immediately.

"Told ya Lt didn't break up with the lad!"

It sets the tone for the night, and it's surprisingly easy for you to fall into being 'one of the boys'. Price slips a few times, but no one makes a deal of it when he apologises each time. Gaz acts like nothing has changed, like you've always gone by a different name and looked like this. Soap acts like you're the internet, shooting off question after question. Simon is quick to shut the man down, but you pipe up with a few of the sites you used for research and that seems to quell the barrage of questions.

By the time you and Simon get back to your flat (you finally decided to move in, now you just have to wait for the lease to end) you're both tired and happy. Showering together is nice, the defined muscles of your body have helped quite a bit with what you've identified as body dysphoria, and Simon praises each part of your body, teasing and laughing.

"Got a real strong man here, eh? Gonna start carrying me when I'm tired, luvie?"

When you do finally settle into bed that night, curled up together in just boxers, your hand finds Simon's cheek. He leans into the touch, kisses your palm, his hand rubbing your back as he curls further into you. It's a good night, spent laughing with Simon's mates, listening to him complain about being on desk duty now, laughing at Johnny's stories. You almost don't hear it, almost miss the quiet and whispered question, ask Simon to repeat himself. His shoulders are tense, eyes won't meet yours.

"Asked if ya'd marry me. Want ya to be my husband. Won't repeat myself a third time, ya deaf twat."

You laugh, the tension breaks, and you say yes. 'Mister Riley' sounds like a great name for you.

[sirbonesly]

In another world, Roach finally finds his Ghost

This is dedicated to @briarscreek who I promised some Roach rambles but instead somehow broke my writers block. It got a little out of hand, and I'm not used to writing for CoD yet, so I apologise if anyone feels out of character or if it has any mistakes.

TW: Mentions of child abuse, mentions of burns/fires, I think that's about it.

Second lieutenant Gary Sanderson climbed out of the back of the truck, adjusting the straps on his vest before helping unload the truck of equipment. Bee pushes the crate towards the edge of the truck, and Gary grabs the handle to help carry it off. They drop the crate by the others, nodding to a dark skinned soldier with a clipboard and a baseball cap. He goes to turn, wanting to help unload the last two crates, but the man grabs his shoulder with a polite smile.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick. Captain Price wanted me to introduce you all to the base before the briefing.”

Gary stares at the man for a moment, eyes flitting over his face from behind his goggles. He knows he should be speaking right now, that his mouth should be moving behind his mask and words floating through the air. But it takes longer than is considered polite.

“Second lieutenant Gary Sanderson. Call me Roach.”

Kyle either doesn’t notice the prolonged silence or doesn’t mention it, which Gary is thankful for. They nod to each other, Kyle not bothering to salute and Gary honestly not caring. His captain, Spencer Anderson, had warned him that the 141 played fast and loose with regulations and rules. Not that he cared much for them himself, but he was glad for the warning anyways.

Sergeant Belinda Hughes, aka Bee, called out to him from where she’s dragging a crate. Gary gives Kyle another nod before leaving to help his team unload. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach, one he hasn’t felt since his childhood, and he’s forever grateful about his mask and goggles. He’ll ignore the feeling for now, it’ll either dissipate or it’ll makes itself obvious soon enough. Either way, Gary has a briefing to go to.

~~~

Simon doesn’t like the second lieutenant. To be fair, he doesn’t like a lot of people, but the second lieutenant, Sanderson, just pokes at something in him. He’s sitting too close to Gaz, laughing too loud at Soap’s jokes, he’s too impersonal with his own soldiers. But it’s not a regular dislike. It’s like looking at a puzzle piece that almost fits, the right colour, the right shape, but just different enough to not fit.

Simon doesn’t talk to Sanderson during or after the briefing. He knows that they’ll have to interact, both of them being lieutenants, but he’s planning to keep everything short. He’ll go through the mission like every other mission, keep a closer eye on his sergeants, and then wait for the team to leave. Price told him to play nice, that this team was full of potential and had more than a few eyes on it. It wouldn’t do good to create bad blood between them.

~~~

The mission goes well, minimal injuries and a successful grab and go. Gary’s team was tasked with infiltrating the compound and grabbing several hard-drives worth of information. The 141 was on watch, being comprised of snipers. The only major injury was Gary, a shot that grazed his side, just barely missed his vest. It was a lucky shot from the guy, but one of the 141 had dispatched him barely a second later.

Bee and sergeant Antonio “Texas” Valdez need to drag Gary to the infirmary. He’s reluctant to go, not liking the idea of missing the group debrief because of a graze. But when Bee and Texas shove him towards one of the nurses, he finds that he’s not alone. Lieutenant Ghost is getting his arm stitched up, his gear gone to leave him in his jeans and shirt. Gary has to wonder how the hell Ghost beat him here, the 141 truck had pulled in behind theirs.

“Go ahead and sit down, Sanderson. One of my nurses will be by to stitch you up.”

Gary sits on the small bed across from Ghost, and he can’t help but turn over all of the information he has about the lieutenant. Ghost hadn’t given a name, just a call sign. Gary didn’t give his call sign, too busy trying to keep Bee from bullying Texas. Ghost is massive, easily one of the biggest guys he’s seen besides that one Austrian kid over at KorTac. Gary’s not small by any means, 175 centimetres and a little over 80 kilograms, he’s packing some muscle. But Ghost is nearly a head taller than him, easily twice his width, probably over 100 kilos.

They sit in silence as the nurse stitches up Ghost, another nurse coming in to start stitching up Gary. He sheds his vest and jacket, grimacing at the hole in the car-hart. The nurse guides him to lay on his side, and he ends up facing Ghost as the nurse stands behind him. He tries not to make eye contact with the lieutenant as he winces from the sharp needle. Shoot or stab him, and Gary will brush it off to get the mission done. But bring a needle to his skin and he’s practically a kid again, wincing and fidgeting and pushing down tears.

~~~

Simon had a friend when he was a kid, back before Tommy got custody of him and his parents were arrested. Living in an apartment meant Simon knew almost everyone on his floor, and that meant he was there when some short bastard moved in as his neighbour. Only a year younger than Simon, the kid latched onto him like a microfiber towel, and then grew on him like fungus.

He doesn’t remember the kid’s name, just the nickname Simon gave him. He watched the kid take a punch right to the face, watched the bully turn away laughing, and then nearly screamed when his friend jumped up with a bloody nose and a black eye like nothing happened. Simon never called him anything but “Roach” after that, liked the way he popped up to his feet no matter what.

Unless it was a needle. This kid, one who took a baseball bat to the ribs and still managed to run for gym the next day, nearly fainted when the school was doing their vaccines. 7 years old and balling his eyes out, holding Simon’s hand like it owed him money. Simon remembers telling him that needles weren’t scary, that Roach was being a wuss. But he still made Tommy take them out for ice cream after school, still gave Roach his free piece of fudge that came with the cone.

Simon looks at the second lieutenant lying on the bed, tears in the man’s eyes as the nurse stitches him up. Simon hadn’t given out his name to the visiting team, content to keep his identity a secret just for fun. He’d been the one to shoot the tango Sanderson was fighting, the one who’d been just a second too late to prevent injury. Simon had been prepared to switch his comms to their team, to the 283 frequency and let them know their second lieutenant was injured. But the man just got up, popped to his feet like it was nothing and continued with the mission.

That’s when Simon knew why he didn’t like Gary Sanderson. He was familiar. Without being able to see his face, Simon had been forced to watch mannerisms. Skittish around strangers, able to fit into a surprising amount of spaces he shouldn’t be able to fit into, and resilient as hell. He acted like a fucking roach. He acted like Simon’s best friend. The one that he watched die, missing during a fire in their apartment building, one that Simon himself barely got out of. The best friend that dropped off the face of the Earth after that, no funeral, no mention in the local paper. Just gone.

The nurse has been finished with Simon’s stitches for a long while, but the lieutenant just sits and watches this grown man cry over getting stitches, over the needle. He knows, despite his mind trying to tell him the logic, that Gary Sanderson is familiar for a reason. Tries to ignore the slim chances that Simon would get such a lucky break in his life. But it’s not him that speaks up, it was never him who made the first move during childhood.

“You gonna watch me cry, sir?”

~~~

The words have more of a bite to them than is probably respectful, but Gary is feeling a bit embarrassed at the moment. The nurse is finally done stabbing him and has moved on to bandaging him. Ghost is just watching him, and Gary takes the chance to look over the man. Wearing the short sleeved shirt, Gary can see the edges of a burn scar peaking out from the sleeve, mostly covered by the sleeve tattoo. Gary’s not judging the scar, not when half of his chest is just one large burn that creeps up his neck and jaw. But there’s something familiar about it.

There’s something familiar about the honey brown eyes of Ghost. How despite the confident air around him, Gary can see the way his shoulders are tense and his eyes dart between the stitches on Gary’s side and the tear stains on Gary’s face. Can see recognition in those honey coloured eyes.

The moment the nurse leaves, with orders for Gary to take it easy and for Ghost to be careful with his arm, the air gains tension. Or maybe it was already tense, but being alone together just brought attention to it. Because Ghost stands up as Gary turns to lay on his back, the lieutenant coming to stand next to Gary’s bedside. Officially, they’re both free to go, but neither of them move to actually leave.

"You always cry from needles?”

The question is unexpected, makes Gary tense up and grimace behind the mask. But it’s the first time he’s heard Ghost speak beyond barking orders over the comms. Gary is thankful that the bullet grazed his clean side, the unburned side. Because being asked about needles is much easier than trying to explain the burns.

“Yessir. Ever since I was a kid, couldn’t stand needles. Nearly broke my friend’s hand during school vaccinations.”

And oh dear, it must’ve been the right thing to say because Ghost tenses up like a deer in headlights. He raises a slightly shaking hand to his face, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door and the blinds pulled shut, before grabbing the back of the balaclava.

Gary can feel tears pool in his eyes as he find those familiar brown eyes again, his stomach twisting with too many feelings to decipher. Relief, surprise, anger, longing. But Gary manages to lift a very shaky hand to his goggles, pulls them up to rest on his helmet, pulls down the neck gaiter he likes to wear.

“Simon.”

“Roach.”

The names are traded, a mountain of questions being placed on each. Where have you been? What happened? How are you here? Each question hangs in the air, waiting for an explanation, needing an answer. And Simon, for the first time in his life, speaks up first with Roach.

“You died. The apartments burned down, they didn’t get you out.”

“My mum threw me out a window.”

Simon makes a pained noise that almost sounds like a laugh, a bewildered look pulling at his face. It makes the scar on his lips pull up, the upper row of teeth just barely visible through the gap of muscle. His eyebrows twist upwards and his eyes widen slightly, just like they did whenever Gary said stupid shit as a kid.

“My mum, she threw me out of the window cause the door was blocked. Landed in the dumpster outside of the building, firefighter found me after most of the ambulances left.”

“Oh.”

Simon sits down in the chair next to the infirmary bed, arms crossed over his chest as he tries to wrap his mind around the explanation. He knew Gary’s mum had loved him on some level, though it never stopped her newest boyfriend from sneaking into Gary’s room some nights. So it shouldn’t be a huge surprise that she tried to save him, but it still makes Simon want to laugh.

Simon pulls his phone out, an old thing with a cracked screen that Laswell had practically forced him to get. It’s only got a few contacts on it, Farah and Alex, some of the Los Vaqueros, Laswell herself, and his team. Jonny’s at the top, a soap bar emoji in place of a name and a star marking him as a favourite. Simon makes a new contact, putting a cockroach in the name line and marking it as a favourite before handing it over to Gary.

The second lieutenant takes the phone with a confused look, understanding flashing across his face when he sees the empty contact. He punches in his number quickly, something close to excitement starting to bubble up in his chest. He knows that this isn’t how old friends are supposed to greet each other, but Simon and Gary were never normal friends.

So, he takes a blurry and picture of his face for the contact picture and hits the save button, handing the old and busted phone back to Simon. He watches as his old friend pockets the device, his mind still trying to wrap around the situation. But Gary can adapt and survive, it’s why he earned the nickname “Roach”. His face pulls into a smirk as he looks over Simon’s shoulder, seeing a frantic looking scott arguing with a nurse.

“So… what’s going on between you and MacTavish?”

“Shut the fuck up,”