killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 30 •

Ghost occupied himself by keeping to the promise he made for Rora Wells.

One day after killing Hassan Zyani and stopping a missile, he contacted Laswell, requesting another mission, preferably something that had any relation to their previous one. Laswell asked for a few days to collect intel, trying her best to do it as soon as possible, knowing how hard it was for him to stay put.

In those few days, he felt like it took years. The squad, especially Soap tried to keep an eye on him discreetly, but they only managed to piss him off more. He hated seeing the sorry looks and solemn expressions like he was some teenage boy burying his childhood pet.

But the hole that Rora left inside his chest was nothing he could compare the feeling to. His mind wandered towards her the more free time he had, and until Laswell's order, he had nothing else but time. Their temporary base in Chicago was cold and unfamiliar, filled with soldiers who acted like they knew what he was going through. But the only thing they saw was the cold exterior of Ghost, going about his day like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, deep inside of him, Simon missed the woman's smirk and glint of her eyes.

For four days, Rora Wells' condition was critical. The doctors tried their best to keep her alive, dealing with a heavy concussion, a punctured lung, and a shattered collarbone caused by the bullet Ghost killed Hassan with. In the first two days, doctors told Price to not get his hopes up, because she had slim chances of making it through the night. But the fighter she was, she pulled through, gradually increasing her chances of survival.

Price visited her whenever he could, bringing in things the boys had sent. A little dog plushie from Gaz, some flowers from Soap, and a card all of them signed excluding Ghost, wishing her the best and a fast recovery. Even Alejandro and his Vaqueros sent a card with some flowers. The boys ignored the chances of her never waking up. The doctors have said that talking to her may fasten her process of waking up from the coma, so Price bought her favorite book, Romeo and Juliet, and read it out loud to her. He never read it and didn't fancy reading in general, but he would read an entire library's worth of books for her.

In the very early hours of her fifth day in the hospital, Price did the same ritual he had for five days now. He went to grab a cup of coffee from the vending machine, waved hello to the blond lady at the reception desk, and made his way to room 313 where Rora rested. He took his hat off with a heavy sigh, running his hand through his short hair. Seeing her body so broken, so lifeless was taking a toll on him, and he understood why the others couldn't come by more often.

It broke Soap the most. He blamed himself for most things. The guilt of not being able to hold his promise of keeping her safe slowed his own recovery down, sending him in temporary depression. But it was Simon who caused him the most distress besides Rora.

He knew Simon for long years now, and he knew his coping mechanisms by now. It wasn't that rare to lose some teammates, they had dangerous missions. It was usually he who collected the dog tags of the fallen soldiers, treating them with respect, but not sparing them another glance. He treated death causally, seemingly not really affected by the things he saw. But Price watched what seemed to be Rora's final moments in the arms of Simon, and what he saw broke his heart.

Simon treated her case colder than ever. He detached completely, not willing to visit her once. Price reckoned it was because of the guilt of shooting her, adding to the list of her injuries. And Ghost never missed. It was just poor luck, but he blamed himself. So casually, Ghost went headfirst into another mission.

„Just visit her before you go," Price pleaded, standing at the door of Simon's temporary room. He was in the middle of packing his stuff for a mission Laswell found him, located in London. They didn't tell him specifics. „Only for 5 minutes."