Seven

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The sound of gunfire erupts through my mind making it hard for me to breathe. A hazy image of my mother appears in front of my eyes. She's smiling at me. She opens her arms, wanting a hug from me. As I walk towards her, she disappears into the air. The sound of her screams echoes within my mind.

I wake up sweating. My chest heaved intensely as I suddenly realized I was dreaming again. Dreaming of her again.

"Are you alright?" Soap stands on the ladder peering over at me. He walks closer to me, looking at me with tense eyes.

I tear my eyes away from his, "I'm fine," I say shortly.

"You don't look it," Soap says.

"Soap, please," I argue, trying to steady my breathing.

"Alright, I'm just checking," He walks to the corner, grabbing his rifle.

I grab my boots next to my bed and quickly put them on. I ascend the ladder before Soap does and see Ghost in the corner, shoving different things into his rucksack. He doesn't acknowledge me. I turn to the lockers and grab the gear I left last night from inside them. I place my ballistic vest over my body and strap it in place. The weight of it eases me as I feel safer with it on. As I continue to get my equipment together, Soap starts speaking.

"Now that you are awake, we've got to leave." He grabs his rucksack from beside the ladder before walking to the truck and throwing it inside.

Ghost places his bag in the truck and turns to Soap, "Price sent word that one of the shelter's thermal detectors has been triggered. That should be our first stop."

"When?" I ask, walking over to them.

He turns his attention to me, "About twelve minutes ago."

"Then we better get this truck working before they get too far," I say as I place my hand on the truck.

"Sounds like a plan," Soap smiles at me for a moment before getting behind the wheel.

"Ghost, get back there and start pushing. I'll steer."

"Who says you can give me commands," Ghost says sarcastically while walking behind the truck.

Soap laughs lightly, "Because you're stronger than I am."

A smile reached Ghost's eyes as he placed both hands on the tailgate. I walked over to help, and the expression faded. He slid over some to make room for me as we began pushing when Soap approved.

It was easier to push it than I thought it would be. Ghost's head fell below his shoulders as he griped the tailgate, pushing significantly more than I was. I still gave it all I got. The safehouse stood over a small hill that faced the opposite direction than when we came. When we reached the top, we gave a final push, and the rest was in Soap's hands as he had done this before.

As he ascended the hill, all I could do his hope that this would work. I could tell Ghost did, too. He didn't breathe when he stood next to me as if he were a statue.

Suddenly, I hear the engine start as he rolls down the hill. When the truck makes a stop without cutting the engine, Soap gets out of the truck.

"It worked, haha!" He yells at us enthusiastically, and I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

Ghost and I walk down to where Soap is. The purring of the engine grows louder as we reach him.

"I didn't doubt you one bit," I say.

Soap walks over to me, "You definitely did a little bit," he jokes.

"Well, we'll see if it'll run now," I mock him slightly. I can tell he enjoys the playfulness as he tries to continue before Ghost cuts him off.

His Muse ( Simon Riley x Soap MacTavish x Reader )Where stories live. Discover now