what's left / simon "ghost" riley
part two
zombie-apocalypse!au / pairing simon "ghost riley x female reader / wc 2186 / warnings brief gore, illusions to violence, typical end of the world angst, swearing.
summery ghost is tasked with escorting y/n to edinburgh to help with creating the cure for the zombie outbreak. it wasn't in the plan for him to fall along.
note y'all liked my post about writing something for this, so hopefully you'll enjoy this story. um, not actually heavy in terms of zombie appearances, but i have plans for another part to this story if ya'll end up enjoying this.
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Ghost stayed seated, back flat against the wall as he watched Y/N sleep and breathe slowly, her chest rising and falling steadily. He couldn’t imagine that the small cot was comfortable, or even very warm, but she seemed to be at peace. The only look of relief he’d seen on her face since their first unfortunate meeting. The painful memory of sirens blaring, people screaming in confusion, and the gut-wrenching, squelching noise of rotting flesh moving through the compound.
A shiver ran down Ghost’s back at the memory, he stiffened, hardening his clutch around his gun, but the night stayed enjoyably silent. It was quiet in a way he didn’t know, lacking the noise cities and towns used to have, the area around him was drenched in an inky black, and the only light provided was from the moon and stars above that cut through the cracks in the window.
She shifts in her sleep next to him, twitching involuntarily, a bad dream he supposed. Without a thought, Ghost reached down with a gloved hand, brushing it against her cheek, down her neck. The touch stills her, Y/N’s body easing again from the gesture.
“Fucking hell.” He quietly mutters to himself, in the dim light, he moves the blanket to check the wound on her leg. His fingers graze the stained gauze bandaging, wincing knowing how much worse it could’ve been. How much worse Ghost had seen.
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“We’ve got reports of outbreaks in all major cities across the United Kingdom and the world.” The news was completely ignored as the military compound was in disarray, chaos sweeping through as soldiers moved out. Everything was pure chaos, the streets were filled with blood and bones, corpses piling up as the flesh-craving, rabid creatures spread like wildfire. The consequence of biological warfare and the weapons it made. Man had played god and met its destruction when they decided to use their own as a tool.
Ghost’s body was tired, threatening to give out under him as he gunned down more of the creatures. Maggots was the name Soap had decided to call them as they fought back, killing those who’d once been fellow soldiers. But if he stopped now, he’d be swarmed by the infected, and if not ripped apart limb-by-limb, he’d receive a fate worse than death.
“We’ve got medical personnel barricaded in the infirmary, we need to get them out of there and moved to the QZ.” Price barked at Ghost over the comms, he was closet to the infirmary, near the outer hall that led to the medical wing. He groaned loudly, fearing what would happen if he tried to move, but the orders stood firm, and while the government was falling apart, he still acted as a soldier for his country.
“Moving there now.”
It was in that dark infirmary, where he could hear the Maggots beating against the outside walls that he first saw her. Gun clutched in her hands, blood splattered across her clothes and skin, and a grave of personnel who’d been turned in the infirmary as he dragged her out of the closet. Y/N kicked and screamed, scarred that he was dragging her to her death, but she went limp once he’d thrown her over his shoulder, his arm securing her in place as he moved her to the cleared tarmac. Past the growing swarms of flies that flocked to dead humans and Maggots alike.
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“Ghost?” Her quiet voice echoed through the dark room, he gazed at her bruised face. Frowning, Simon wiped some of the grime from the journey off.
“Right here, Y/N.” Ghost sighed, she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. “How do you feel?”
“Probably just as bad as you.” Y/N brought her leg up, closing it to her chest so she could tug at the bandaging. “Need to change to gauze.”
“Let me do that, Y/N. No need to stress yourself, you need to rest.” He tells her, reaching over to her backpack, reaching inside, and finding her small kit of supplies. The container was beginning to run low, he didn’t like to think about what would happen if they didn’t get to Edinburgh soon. What had been planned, had gone astray.
“Ghost, you need to rest too. I’m not going to be falling back asleep.” She forces the gauze and antiseptic wipes out of his hands and into hers. “You need to rest, otherwise you’ll just be a bag of bones.”
Wiping his face with his hand and letting out a low groan, Ghost knew she was right. He’d had little rest the past few days and knew how it would delay his reaction time and ability to keep her safe. “Are you sure? I don’t want you-”
“I’ll be fine, and if I have even the slightest suspicion that something is wrong, I’ll wake you up. I promise.” Y/N assures him. Ghost reluctantly agrees, his body grateful at the idea of rest, even if it was for just a brief moment.
“Swear it.”
“I swear I’ll wake you up. Please, sleep.” She promises, shifting into a seating position. Ghost stayed seated, but let his head rest against the walls and allowed his eyes to droop. Exhaustion won the battle against his willpower as he drifted off.
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“We need to get her to Edinburgh, they have the tools, the chance to get a cure made. And she’s got the knowledge they need.” Price more often than not, was raising his voice at people. Even with the QZ safely established, and the initial surge dying down, there was too much uncertainty and too much loss for him to act rationally. Ghost knew this, he acted the same, snapping too quickly nowadays at already terrified soldiers under him. Sometimes he felt as mindless and flesh-eating as the Maggots, sniffing out fear like the infected sniffed out their next victim.
It seemed selfish to fight against the order he’d be given, foolish and self-centered. But what real chance did they have at creating a cure to stop the virus and its continued spread? Rumors had circulated that the Americans had been in the early stages of developing a counteract to the outbreak, but England had lost contact with all allies months ago. They could only rely on themselves, and even that seemed a stretch.
“Why don’t you get someone else?” Someone disposable, Ghost thought, as he knew the chances of successfully getting someone across the wasteland of England up to Edinburgh were almost impossible. Vehicles, cars, or helis were out of the question, fuel was strictly saved for powering and keeping the QZ warm. Which left him with no other option but to walk, for three weeks through towns, cities, and country filled with Maggots. A certain death.
“Because you’re the only one I trust to get her there.”
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The sun poured into the room, Ghost’s eyes flickered open before he jolted himself fully awake. His heart slammed in his chest, panic seeping through his veins. How long had he been asleep? Next to him, Y/N lay turned into his side, pressed into the side of his ribs. Ghost found the gun still propped against the wall next to him, he brought it back into his grip and surveyed the room around. All was quiet, all was at ease. Almost as if the outbreak hadn’t happened, destroying mankind in its wake.
Ghost wished Y/N had woken him up the moment she’d grown tired, but he didn’t have it in himself to be mad. For a high-achieving doctor, who always strove to be efficient, Ghost was a bit annoyed by her lack of responsibility. But she looked so beautiful in the early morning light, under the layer of dirt and grime that clung to her skin, Ghost’s eyes lingered on her rosy cheeks and soft lips.
He hated to break the silence or drag her awake, but they needed to move. Their location would only stay safe for so long. “Y/N. We need to get going.”
The woman grumbled at his words, trying to bury herself closer to Ghost’s side. He smirks at her action, prying her hands off of his body. His fingers grazed the veins and took comfort in the steady flow of blood in her body.
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Dry grass crunched under his feet as he carried her to the abandoned farmhouse. Set away from the road and society, no Rotten would wander this far from a horde. They’d be safe, safer than they’d been in the town where they’d been attacked by raiders. Y/N let out a whimper as he set her down on the ground, needing his hands to pry open the heavy wooden door. Her hand moved down to the poorly bandaged leg, where the large gash lay from where she’d been struck during the attack.
The hinges of the door creak as it opens, Ghost steps in, pistol raised and ready to survey the room. The farm, much like everything else around them, was abandoned. He didn’t care to think what had happened to those who’d lived there before, death had lost its sting for Ghost long ago.
Pulling Y/N back into his arms, Ghost moved back into the house, setting her down on the sagging settee in the living room. He moved down to the wounded leg, and as he began to unwrap the gauze, she winced, cringing as the cold, stale air greeted her wound. Y/N’s body shook uneasily, and her breathing was swallowed.
“Sorry.” Ghost apologizes, pulling open her medical kit. But his stomach churned uncomfortably at the wound, it was still oozing.
“S’gonna need stitches.” Y/N groans, dropping her head back down against the arm of the settee after evaluating the wound and its condition. “I can do it myself, but I’ll need you to find needle and thread.”
“I’ll find it, and I’ll do it myself. You’re in no condition to attempt to stitch yourself up.” He grunts, standing back up and beginning to search the room they were in for the needed materials.
“But-”
“No buts, Y/N. I’ve done this before, I can do it again.” Ghost states, opening a closet that was still stocked with sewing supplies. Plenty of needles, and a variety of colorful threads. He chose the one that was closest to medical thread, placing it and the small plastic container of needles down on the coffee table.
As he began to sew the wound closed, Y/N’s eyes began to water, and she gripped the fabric of the settee grinding her teeth. Ghost felt the need to keep apologizing to her, over and over again until he’d tightly secured the stitching with a knot. She let out a strained sob as he wiped the skin clean of dried blood with a cloth and some water from his canteen.
“I’m sorry, it’s done now.” He promised her, yanking his dirty gloves off and dropping them on the coffee table next to his discarded backpack and the harder outer layer of his mask. “You’re okay, I promise.” Ghost assures her, taking Y/N’s face in his calloused hands. She nods, her lips still trembling.
There wasn’t a thought in his mind as he pressed a kiss on the side of her cheek. He brought her body close to his, breathing in the smell of her skin, the blood, sweat, and tears. They stayed like that for a while, he allowed her to cry into his neck, his hands running through her knotted hair.
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His gaze falls on her as she fights the knots out of her hair, trying to manage just a bit before they set out again. While Ghost wouldn’t admit it, his body was painfully numb from all the walking they’d done the past weeks, wishing they’d made it to Edinburgh already. But he feared what would happen when they did arrive. The quiet moments he’d come to enjoy with Y/N would disappear. She’d return to her duty, struggling to make a cure. And what purpose would he have? The idea of attempting to return to London alone was a dangerous one. He assumed the military up there would put him to work. But would he ever get to spend any more cold nights, keeping her warm?
“I’m ready.” Y/N finally announces to him, pulling her backpack over her shoulders.
“‘Bout damn time.” Ghost huffs, offering her his hand to steady herself with. She wobbles a bit, unsure of how much weight she can put on her leg without it giving out underneath her. “Alright?”
“Yeah.” She nods but Ghost drops his arm down around her waist, adding extra support. “Ghost-”
“Let me help you.” He asks, leaning down and kissing her face. The rough material of the mask brushed against her raw skin. Y/N grasps at the mask, trying to remove the barrier between them. With reluctance, he breaks away from her lips, knowing his action is dangerous with consequences that could hurt. “Another time, Y/N. Need to save our breath.”
note so, i'll admit, i left the worst of the angst out of this. but- i may decide to deliver the rest if ya'll are curious about how gut-wrenching my writing can actually get.
