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

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

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

"Shit," she gasped, the world tilting.

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

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

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

"I’m—" She tried to speak, but it felt like someone had ripped her insides out. Her mouth tasted like copper.

Ghost ripped her 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.

She let out a half-laugh, half-sob, the sound weak even to her 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. She'd never heard him like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You idiot," she 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," she muttered, coughing. "Love you too, dumbass."

His head dropped against hers, and for a second, the battle didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, 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?"

She nodded weakly, not trusting her 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 her, one arm sliding under her shoulders. She bit back a groan as he hefted her up, his strength almost enough to make her cry with relief.

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

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

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

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

Because Simon Riley loved her.

And she loved him right back.