lifeline

7.

The next morning, Florence stood staring blankly at her toaster as she waited for it to pop. She felt as though she'd vacated her body slightly. Her arms felt too heavy at her sides and her feet seemed to be made of lead; they were too heavy to lift. She wasn't thinking about anything in particular, in fact, she wasn't thinking about anything at all.

The pop of the toaster startled her slightly as she was violently snapped back into reality. She picked the toast up, ignoring how it burned the tips of her fingers very slightly, and with a tut of her tongue, threw it against her plate. It was burnt. She stood for a minute, debating if she should pick it up and eat it or not before abandoning it and traipsing back to her bedroom.

She sighed a little as she looked at herself in the full length mirror. She wasn't ugly but she didn't help her appearance by dressing in old, run down clothes. Florence tilted her head a little as she inspected every part of her appearance, scrutinising every atom and picking out flaws no one else would see.

A rap at the door snapped her out of her trance. She pulled one last face at herself in the mirror before making her way over to whoever was trying to come in. She hesitated a little, wondering if she could really be bothered to deal with people, before swinging the door open.

Her phone clattered to the floor.

She took two steps back, bumping into the wall as she stared at the sight before her. Her heart pounded as her adrenaline levels increased.

"Hey Flo."

-

Ghost sat on the armchair like a throne. His head supported by his hand which was balled into a fist. He ignored how is knuckles dug into his chin, how his wrist felt as though it might snap.

Florence Armstrong had been plaguing his mind for days. Like a virus, she pulsated through his blood, infecting every atom of his being with thoughts of her. He pushed himself up from his chair, his fists balled together as he stormed from the house.

Soap stared at Gaz, pure shock on his face. It'd been a while since he'd seen Ghost so frustrated with a case and he was getting worried. He knew if Ghost couldn't keep his cool and trust them that Florence was innocent he'd blow their entire cover. They'd spent weeks now planting the seeds of trust within the community and now they had to lie low; they had to wait for the seeds to blossom.

He leant back in his chair, pushing the air out of his lungs. His left knee cap bounced into his right a little as he swung his leg. The ticking of the clock was infuriatingly loud as he thought about the situation. They'd been ironing out the details for days upon days and there was no way Florence was involved. Involved in anyway she knew about anyway.

His nails rapped against the shredded leather of the armchair, sending small particles of fabric flying. Soap couldn't think of a day so far this week where he hadn't had a headache. With a sigh, he whipped out his phone and sent Florence a message.

Soap: Hey Florence, you around?

He felt a twang of guild deep down in his stomach. He truly did feel terrible about faking a friendship with her but they needed to gain her trust besides, the rest of the group was doing the same.

He stared blankly at the wall, waiting her response. None came.

-

"What are you doing here?" Her voice trembled a little as she made a discreet sweeping glance of the room, trying to look for anything she could use as a weapon.

"Calm down would ya? I'm just here to talk." He stood squinting at her, his arms hanging loosely and his hands balled into fists. He noticed her staring at his fists and quickly relaxed them. "Look Flo, i'm not gonna hurt ya just let me in."

She didn't say anything, just nodded her head and allowed him to step into the house, he slammed the door behind him.

-

Ghosts attention was drawn at the slam of a door. His eyes glanced to Florence's far too familiar house. He really didn't want to see her today but not matter how much he hated her... he'd have to check up on her. He couldn't let her die with all the information she was hiding.

With a groan of frustration, he reluctantly walked over to the door, his feet practically dragging behind him. He knew the door was open so rather than faffing around with knocking he threw it open himself.

"Florence?" His voice called out.

A muffled argument bounced off the walls and reverberated in Ghosts ears. His heart sped up as he reached for the handle of the living room door. He quickly opened it, his eyes widening in a mix of shock and horror at the sight.

Florence sat in a chair, staring meekly at the ground before a man who seemed hellbent on screaming at her. Her eyes mimicked those of Ghost as she spied the him.

"What the fu-" He started to say, startling the other man who turned around. This horrified him more. His eyes flicked between Florence and the new man. Same hair, same eye shape, same nose, same mouth. Siblings.

"Florence what's going on-?" Ghost asked, crossing his arms as he glared at the man. He studied him. Although it was clear to him how that they were related, it didn't mean he could or should be trusted.

She cleared her throat a little, "Ghost, this is my brother Arthur. Arthur this is Ghost." She gestured between the two of them. Arthur glared back at Ghost.

"What the fucks up with the balaclava?" He scowled.

Ghost let out a little scoff, "Fashion." He shot back sarcastically as he refrained himself from rolling his eyes. Every muscle in his body was tense.

"No seriously dude, what the fuck is up with that? What, you ugly or something?" Arthur chuckled to himself.

"Oh yes, hideous really." His head tipped the side a little as he adjusted the balaclava around his neck. It was clear to all but Arthur that Ghost was enjoying this little game.

Florence picked the skin around her fingers, she hated Ghost but she hated Arthur more. He may be her brother by genetics but she never viewed him as such. As a child was a spiteful, vengeful boy who would stop at nothing to get his way and, it seemed, that his hatred had only grown with age.

"Who is this bellend anyway?" Arthur scoffed, taking a step towards Florence.

She tensed up, "He's... a friend." Florence was lying. Ghost knew plain and simple that she did not like him but who was he to question her? She had her motives to lie and he wouldn't compromise her in any way.

-

The pair watched as Arthur finally got up to go to the bathroom. They waited for the door to shut before-

"Florence?" Ghost asked as he stared at her. He didn't need to carve a question out. Her name said it all. She turned her gaze away from him, red creeping up her neck.

"I'm sorry... I just- you don't know him Ghost. I need him to think i'm not entirely alone so he'll go away."

Ghost watched her body language. Her entire body was tense as though every muscle had seized. "Fine. I won't tell him you lied and in exchange, you're going to tell me and Price everything."

Realistically, he wouldn't have told Arthur about such a small lie anyway but the man raised warning bells in Ghost's head. Warning bells that hadn't signalled in a long time.