Touch in the Dark- König x fem! Reader

24- Facts

I gulped, picking the note off the ground. It was officially signed and wax-sealed. Shit. I nervously sat it on my counter, realizing if he's been genuinely keeping eyes on me, I was fucked. I paced the house, cussing myself out, feeling a firepit burn in my throat. I knew I couldn't avoid it forever. He'd send someone to hunt me down if needed. I sighed, setting aside my pride and ripping open the envelope.

Dear Y/n,
I assume things seem to be going explicitly well. You've been in and out an awful lot for someone supposed to be hiding. Adapting to civilian life well? We won't speak of certain activities.
As to the actual reason I'm mailing you: we've got trouble. Makarov was K.I.A. (Supposedly; however, you and I know something isn't right.) after you were thrown. However, there's still some pretty active behavior lingering on the Russian border. I know your stance on returning to the field; however, everyone presumes you're dead. I need you, kid. Mail me immediately when you receive this.

Sincerely, Papa John Price.

I felt my stomach drop. He knew this whole damn time but never tried to stop me? Jeez, feels like I've got a ghost stalking me. Thankfully no one was over at the time as I scrambled for a piece of paper and pen. I knew what Price was planning and it counted on me. I know they can do it without me, but civilian life was just too boring. I'd help out. One last mission. Then I'd transfer units. New name, new place, new start.

The airplane roughly landed as hail and rain pelted is from the sky above. Typical for my luck, but nevertheless, I was finally back on base grounds. I secretly met up with Price, sneaking into his office through a window.

I sat patiently, nervously waiting for him to show up. Hopefully no one else would walk in. Time slowly ticked by as I finally heard the contact of boots with the floor. The door swung open shortly after, revealing the bearded man, a cigar loosely hanging from his lips.

"Welcome back, kid. Rough ride?" He questioned, setting some papers aside before throwing himself into his cozy office chair.

"Aren't they always," I joked, feeling tension rise in the air. I knew he knew what I was up to. I wasn't proud of it, but it made some of the pain slip away. Silence filled the room as Price took a hit from his cigar, slowly blowing it my way.

"How... How are the others?" I pried, briefly making eye contact before looking back away. I could see surprise spread across his face for a split moment until he resumed his normal resting face.

"Distraught. Your 'death' didn't swing over any of them well. I can't even get them in a meeting room without someone having to excuse themselves," He sighed, shaking his head. This situation was awkward for sure, yet something in him wishes to resolve it.

"Ah," I muttered, fidgeting with my fingers, picking at dead and loose skin. "Do you think I could ever...?" I stopped myself, knowing the answer was probably a stern 'No'. Price huffed, taking an excruciatingly long breath of his cigar before sighing it out in my direction. He always did that when he was frustrated or didn't know what to say. It was really more of a intimidation tactic than anything else.

"You expect to be able to just run away and then magically rise back from the dead to visit them?" He snarled, rubbing his temples.
"I guess that was an idiotic question." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, knowing I was threading the line. I sighed, wishing there was so much I could change.

"Nevertheless, we're going to have to change your appearance, rookie." Price mentioned, reminding me my rank meant nothing anymore. If I was coming back, I'd have to be someone new. Someone... different.

"Yes, sir." I replied, standing up and saluting him. I could see him relax as a small smirk played on his lips.
"That's the spirit," He laughed, snuffing out his cigar before standing up. "Before you begin to blend in again, you need to change your appearance. I'll send someone in here in a minute to help with that."

After an hour of undergoing changes, I glanced in the mirror, unsure of who was staring back at me.
"Woah." I turned my body, messing with my hair, looking at the contacts and makeup applied to alter my features. I couldn't recognize myself.

Afterwards, I was placed a bunk full of rookies as if I had just began. I was going to have to blend in again if I wanted even a chance to see my old pals. Sure, I was conflicted, I was pissed, but deep down a void stayed open the longer I was unable to be in their presence. My humor dulled as I begin smiling less. Things were less vibrant. But for now, I'd need to focus on climbing the ranks again. Need to earn my ticket to Russia. Makarov wasn't dead, he never truly seemed to die. I sighed, looking in the mirror once more, alone in my bunker.

"I'm coming for you, Makarov." I whispered, my eyebrows furrowing.