Ghosts of the Past (A Call Of Duty: Ghosts Fanfiction)

Chapter Sixteen

When I came to, I felt stronger and more alive than before. There were sounds of monitors and machines which told me I was in medical facilities. A slow opening of my eyes revealed a dimly lit room mirroring one from a hospital; I knew I was at the Ghosts' base.

    "Welcome back." 

    The voice startled me and my shoulders bobbed to the unexpected guest. I found Kick, sitting with his arms crossed on a padded bench built into the wall to my right. His amber eyes were watching me, softer than I'd ever seen them. 

    "H-How long have I been out?" I rubbed my temple, feeling the tenderness of a healing bruise. 

    "About four days; they were trying to keep an eye on your head," Kick's deep voice was soothing as he stood and closed the distance to my bedside. "You suffered a concussion, quite a bit of bruising, a broken wrist, and some decent damage to your ankle." 

    I sucked in a breath, looking at my covered legs. "Where are the others?" 

    "They've been laying low, all of us have. We have been waiting for you to wake up." 

    "Well I'm awake and ready to go—"

    Kick gently rested a hand on my shoulder, keeping me back against the bed. "Not yet. You are in no condition." 

    "We don't have time. Rorke has plans for the war and I'm afraid he is closer than we think to making everything worse." 

    "It can wait Ashlyn."

    One look into those deep amber eyes had my jaw clamping shut. Kick was someone who was already quickly getting to me. I didn't want to listen, yet I felt incapable of rebelling against him. His hand slowly released my shoulder and traveled down my right arm to my good hand. It was there he gave a supportive squeeze. 

    He didn't have to say anything more. I could tell he held a lot of regret, guilt even. Here I was, just a mere recruit who'd been thrown into the middle of everything the Ghosts had been fighting against. Needless to say, I was younger and more inexperienced than all of them: late twenties versus thirties and beyond. There weren't a lot of soldiers, especially women, who'd still be around to continue. 

    The frightening part was that I didn't feel fear like I suppose I should've. 

    "I'd say get rest but you've been out for a while," Kick forced a smile, his hand still not moving. "You hungry?" 

    "Quite a bit actually." 

    Kick opened his mouth to respond when the tinted door swung open; he released my hand before the newcomer could catch it. Hesh and Riley appeared, the human holding a brown sack and the canine tilting his head. 

    "You're awake! I bought Kick and I food, but you can have mine. I hope you like cheeseburgers." 

    I managed a small smile that reveal teeth. " I'd appreciate that." 

    Riley whimpered, raising his nose on the edge of the bed and looking into my eyes with the most concern I'd ever seen a dog have. I reached over, letting him sniff at my cast surrounding most of my left hand and forearm. He whimpered again. 

    "Up boy." 

    Riley listened to Hesh and, in an instant, carefully leapt up the bed by my side. He was careful in his movements as he plopped down on the wide medical-based bed. He sniffed at my cast once more, lowering his ears as I reached to rub the top of his head. The comfort of his soft fur was enough to make me continue to fondle. 

    Hesh moved his gaze from his smart partner to me. "How are you?" 

    "Impatient," Kick answered for me.