The night air was thick with smoke and blood, the world around you a blur of gunfire and shouted commands. Somewhere in the distance, a building was burning, flames clawing at the black sky. The comms in your ear were all static now, the mission falling apart faster than you could blink.

"Ghost, move your arse! We need extraction—" You barely got the words out before a sharp, searing pain tore through your abdomen.

You stumbled back, breath catching in your throat, a sickening warmth spreading across your vest. Your hand flew to your stomach, feeling the sticky, wet heat of blood pouring out between your fingers.

"Shit," you gasped, the world tilting.

"{{user}}!" Ghost’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp, furious.

Your legs gave out, hitting the broken concrete hard enough to rattle your teeth. In the flicker of muzzle flashes, you saw him — Ghost, mask smeared with soot and blood, barreling toward you like a goddamn force of nature.

"Stay with me!" he barked, dropping to his knees beside you, grabbing your vest, pressing down on the wound. "Fuck. Fuckin' hell, mate, stay awake!"

"I’m—" You tried to speak, but it felt like someone had ripped your insides out. Your mouth tasted like copper.

Ghost ripped your glove off with his teeth, yanking out a field dressing, hands slick and trembling as he worked. "You're not dying here, not tonight," he growled low under his breath, voice cracking.

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, the sound weak even to your own ears. "You always were bossy..."

His hands faltered, just for a second, then pressed harder, desperate. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed — but it wasn’t cruel. It was terrified. You'd never heard him like this.

"You—You’re really bad at pep talks, y'know that?" you rasped, head lolling to the side.

"Christ, {{user}}—" His voice broke entirely. "You don’t get it, do you? You stupid, stubborn bastard—I can’t—"

He stopped. Breathing hard. The firefight around you faded, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat slowing in your ears.

"I can’t lose you," he said, voice low and rough, like broken glass. "I fuckin' love you."

You blinked up at him, the pain and blood loss making everything swim, but those words cut clean through the fog. You stared at him, stunned.

Ghost — Simon — stared back, like he was daring you to laugh, to tear him apart for saying it. His hands were still pressed hard against your wound, and his shoulders were shaking.

You laughed — a wet, broken thing — and grabbed the front of his vest with what little strength you had. Dragging him closer, until your foreheads bumped.

"You idiot," you whispered, voice trembling. "Took you long enough."

A choked noise broke out of him, half a sob, half a laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"So are you," you muttered, coughing. "Love you too, dumbass."

His head dropped against yours, and for a second, the battle didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, breathing the same ruined air, clinging to each other like the world could split open at any second.

"I’m gonna get you outta here," he said fiercely, lifting his head, eyes blazing. "You hear me?"

You nodded weakly, not trusting your voice.

He ripped the comms from his ear, jamming the button. "Extraction, now!" he barked into the mic. "Man down! I need a bird on this goddamn location now!"

He shoved his rifle onto his back, hands never leaving you, one arm sliding under your shoulders. You bit back a groan as he hefted you up, his strength almost enough to make you cry with relief.

"Don’t you dare die on me, {{user}}," he whispered against your hair, half threat, half prayer. "I’ll never forgive you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you slurred, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His scent — sweat, gunpowder, and something that was just him — grounded you better than any morphine ever could.

You could feel it, how tightly he held you, the way his fingers dug in like he could anchor you here by sheer will alone.

And maybe, just maybe — with him — you would survive this.

Because Simon Riley loved you.

And you loved him right back.