Ghost x Reader
You had been shot, the bullet lodging itself in your hip, just barely nicking your artery. You were headed back to the extraction point, mission completed, when something rammed into your left hip, sending you stumbling back. The white-hot pain came a second later.
Ghost dragged you to cover, cursing your stupidity the whole way. He tore your shirt off, using one hand to stem the bleeding while the other fumbled with the med kit. Now, you were propped up against a wall, pale and shaking as Ghost labored in vain to stop the bleeding, pressing gauze into the wound, then replacing it ten seconds later in a never-ending cycle.
"I don't think gauze is going to stop the bleeding." You wheeze, breath ragged. Your eyes flick to the growing pile of red-soaked cloth, then to your blood-slicked skin, then to Ghost's masked face.
"No... No, it won't. But it buys us time." Ghost murmurs as he applies more pressure. One hand comes up to his shoulder and he clicks the radio.
"We need a medevac to our location. ASAP." You shake your head, knowing that they won't get to you before you bleed out. Your eyes flick down to your belt, where a lighter sits, and you get a terrible, horrible, possibly-only-option idea.
"I have...a lighter..." You rasp out before you can change your mind.
"You want to cauterize it?!" Ghost asks you incredulously. "You're fuckin' insane."
"It's better...than bleeding...to death" You gasp, eyes fluttering.
Ghost hesitates, the thought of causing you such intense pain making him wince. "You're right... but, bloody hell...I can't do it. I can't hurt you."
"Do...you want...me to die?" You wheeze, smiling weakly at him.
"No... No, I..." Ghost bites his lip and closes his eyes, visibly trying to find the strength to do this. He gently pulls your jacket off, folding and tying it around your mouth, shoving the cloth in between your teeth so you don't bite your tongue off.
He hesitantly pulls the lighter from your pocket, flicking it on. He straddles you, holding you in place with his thighs as he brings the flame to your wound.
"You ready?" he asks softly. You nod shakily, and Ghost hesitantly lights the flame. As he brings the lighter closer, the heat sears your skin. You scream against the gag and try to escape the source of pain, body involuntary jerking away from it. Your skin and blood bubbles, quickly sealing the wound shut.
Your body seizes, your screams muffled by the gag. Ghost lets go of the lighter, certain that the bleeding has stopped, but he doesn't get off of you. He holds you in place as your body jerks involuntarily, wiping tears from your cheeks.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." Ghost winces and places his hands over the burn, trying to apply pressure and dull the pain as much as he can. He brushes your hair from your face, frowning at how clammy and pale your skin is. He places his fingers against your neck, feeling for your pulse. Your breath comes in ragged, rapid gasps, and your pulse is quick and thready.
He finally gets off, his hands deftly tape gauze over the burn, protecting it from the elements.
You let out a ragged sob, curling up around your injury, pain radiating through your body. A weight is placed over your body and distantly you recognize that Ghost put his jacket over you. You float away, the only tether to your body being his hand on your shoulder. I don't think seeing my own body is a good thing you think, but it's a passing thought, not concerning you. From above, you watch him tap your cheek, trying to get you to wake up. But you just stare at him with unfocused eyes, trembling.
