Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|

Against the Tide

As (Y/n) and Ghost lingered in that tender moment, the weight of unspoken words hung in the air. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bound by a connection that transcended the chaos of their mission.

Ghost pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fixed on the woman before him. Her smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but be captivated by her.

Finally, (Y/n) broke the silence, her voice a gentle whisper. "We should go, before they send a search party for us."

Ghost nodded, a reluctant agreement in his eyes. They both knew that duty called, and they couldn't afford to lose track of time. With a final, lingering touch, they pulled away from each other.

"You're real pretty, you know that," he said, his voice soft, as he gently caressed her face.

"Oh yeah, Lieuten-" (y/n)'s words were abruptly cut off by a burst of radio static.

"Ghost, Specter. How copy?" Gaz's voice crackled through the radio.

"This is Ghost."

"We found the missiles, we're leaving in 30," Gaz's voice relayed the urgency of the situation before the radio fell silent.

"Duty calls," (y/n) remarked, stretching slightly. Simon smiled and leaned in, placing a quick peck on her forehead before pulling his mask over his head.

"Go gear up, I'll meet you at the airfield," Ghost instructed, his tone determined. With a final, lingering touch, they pulled away from each other.

"See you there Simon," (y/n) responded with a smile, then sprinted off towards the barracks.

She couldn't help but giggle to herself as she made her way down, wincing slightly at the discomfort from her wounds. Bursting into her room, she quickly scanned for her gear, only to find it conspicuously absent.

"What the hell?" A frustrated expletive escaped (y/n)'s lips as she entered her room, only to find it devoid of her essential gear. Then, like a sudden spark of realization, it dawned on her – her equipment was still back in Urzikstan.

She shook her head at her own oversight, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. This was a situation she had certainly not anticipated.

Taking a deep breath, (y/n) pushed aside any lingering frustration. She was resourceful and adaptable; she'd have to make do with what was available. She swiftly grabbed a spare sidearm and checked it over, ensuring it was in perfect working order. It might not be her usual loadout, but it was better than going in unarmed.

As she made her way back to the airfield, (y/n) mentally cataloged the items she'd need to requisition upon their return to base.

She quickened her pace towards the airfield, hoping someone had thought to grab her gear. The sight that met her eyes was one of controlled chaos, everyone scurrying about, ensuring they were properly equipped.

"Commander! Wait, no. Lieuten-"

"It's fine, Caleb." (Y/n) cut in, her laughter warm and infectious. She wrapped her old apprentice in a tight hug, a mix of pride and camaraderie washing over her.

"Price has some gear for you," Caleb pointed out, his eyes gleaming with respect. (Y/n) nodded her thanks before making her way towards Price.

"Ah, Lieutenant Colonel," Price greeted her with a wry smile, holding out a uniform, "how'd it go?" His raised eyebrow hinted at a curiosity that matched the gravity of the situation.

"It went... better than I expected," (y/n) replied, her tone a blend of contentment and determination. She quickly changed into the uniform, a sense of purpose settling over her. This mission was critical, and she was ready to give it everything she had.

Price watched her with a knowing glint in his eyes. He could sense the shift in (y/n), a newfound resolve that spoke volumes about the events that had transpired. He knew that whatever had transpired between her and Ghost, it had left an indelible mark.

As (y/n) finished suiting up, she turned to Price. "Thanks for this. I'll make sure to bring it back in one piece," she assured him, a steely determination in her gaze.

Price's smile held a hint of pride. "I have no doubt about that, Lieutenant Colonel. Now, let's get this done."

With a shared nod of understanding, they both turned towards the awaiting helicopter, the roar of its engines a call to action. The mission awaited, and (y/n) was ready to face it head-on, with a renewed sense of purpose and a heart unburdened by the past.

Ghost strode by and handed (Y/n) a pair of knives and one of his guns. The action drew the attention of those around them. Gaz and Soap exchanged smirks, while Price's smile widened with satisfaction. (Y/n) offered a soft thanks before deftly strapping the knives to her boots.

Meanwhile, Phillip walked past the group, his eyes fixed on (Y/n). Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Caleb by the arm, pulling him aside. The abruptness of the motion caught everyone's attention, and a ripple of concern passed through the group. Ghost and (Y/n) exchanged a quick, worried glance. Gaz and Soap shifted uneasily, ready to step in if needed.

Caleb's voice, though too low to be heard clearly, carried a tone of urgency. Whatever was being said between him and Phillip was intense and significant. The atmosphere grew charged with tension.

She watched, tension coiling in her muscles, as Philip seemed to scold Caleb with a stern intensity.

"What's going on?" Soap approached (Y/n), his own expression reflecting her concern. He wanted to offer support, sensing that something significant was unfolding.

"Philip and Caleb... they've never seen eye to eye," (Y/n) explained, her frown deepening as she recalled past encounters, "They clashed from the moment they met. Different philosophies, different approaches to missions. It was bound to happen."

Soap nodded, absorbing this information. He could understand how conflicting perspectives could lead to friction within a team, especially one as tightly-knit as theirs. "And it's never really improved?"

(Y/n) shook her head. "It's only gotten worse over time. I've tried to mediate, but it's like oil and water. They just don't mix."

Soap acknowledged (Y/n)'s words with a solemn nod. "Caleb played a crucial role in locating you. Without him, it might have taken much longer." His voice held a note of gratitude for Caleb's unexpected act of defiance.

(Y/n) rose from her makeshift seat, fixing her gaze on Caleb with a mix of curiosity and intrigue.

"Is that so?" she inquired, genuinely curious about what had motivated Caleb to go against the grain. It was unlike him to disobey direct orders, and (Y/n) couldn't help but wonder what had driven him to take such a risk. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for insight into Caleb's motivations.

Price interrupted the conversation between (Y/n) and Soap with a decisive announcement.

"Alright team, Shadow Company will meet us there. The missiles are on an oil rig. We'll fly to the beach and make the rest of our way by boat."

(Y/n) couldn't help but let out an audible groan at the mention of boats, her displeasure evident in the sound she made.

The team swiftly went into action, mobilizing for their mission. (Y/n) couldn't shake off her discomfort at the thought of boats. She'd had her fair share of rough experiences with them.

Nevertheless, she knew this mission was too critical to let personal discomfort get in the way.

As they gathered at the airfield, preparing to board the aircraft, Ghost shot (Y/n) a reassuring look. It was as if he sensed her apprehension. She managed a small smile in return, grateful for the unspoken support.

The flight was tense but efficient. They touched down on the beach and quickly organized themselves for the boat ride. The adrenaline was pumping, and the team was focused, but (Y/n) couldn't shake off the niggling feeling of unease.