Dust to Dust

Shutting down - 2 / 3

Not even three pairs of strong arms were enough to keep Ghost back as the caving building swallowed up the rest of the hallway separating him from you.

"Come on LT."

Soap's Scottish drawl filled his ears, accompanying the ringing - and yet he found no comfort in his friend's voice, the overwhelming panic, something Simon rarely experienced.

Price was already barking down the radio for an evac, leaving the restraining to both Gaz and Soap, all adrenaline running high as both men fought against their Lieutenant, voices falling on deaf ears.

A thumb pressed into one of his fingers, an empty space where the gold band would be in just two months, yanking himself from his teammates grip as he stormed in the opposite direction, blocked hallways be damned.

He'd get to you.

He'd always made sure to keep you safe, this was no different.

Powerful legs carried him out of the building, barely hearing the voices calling after him, nor the creak and groan as part of the walls began to collapse, dust and ash springing into the air.

One hand clasped over his rifle, pushing through the other end of the building - a gloved hand lifting to shield his eyes from the smoke beginning to plume and fill the hallways.

Fire licked at his uniform and legs as he crashed down the hallways, a strained breath pairing with the concern in his voice as he called for you down the radio.

Ghost couldn't even feel the singeing of his skin, the mental image of your smile lighting up the corners of his mind was the only thing keeping his legs moving as eerie static filled his senses.

And then your voice.

Sweet, gentle harmony, even though the broken receiver.

His name. You're alive.

"It's me, sweetheart."

His own voice was choked, gulping thick air in through the mask as he pushed on, shoving rubble aside - tearing at broken walls and doors.

A rushed inhale, and the desperate tone of a man about to fall apart -

"Y/N, I'm coming. Hold on for me."

A grunt escaped as the heat of the building started to sink into him, all encompassing inferno beginning to consume the way he'd came from.

That crackle had began again in his ear, the hollowing absence of your voice earned sharp, dangerous focus, breaking into a heavy run toward the end of the hallway.

You had to be okay. Why weren't you responding?

His path to you was engulfed in a roaring blaze, but neither that nor the sudden sight through gap in the fire of your slouched form against the wall at the back of the room stopped him, a gloved hand using the doorframe to propel himself forward.

The blood.

God— he could smell the iron in the air along with the smoke, dropping to his knees beside your form, one gloved hand cupping and turning your paling face towards his instead of the sky.

"No.. I need you to look at me, baby."

Ghost was never usually one for pet names, but desperation had taken over as the colour continued to drain from your face, and the wheezing in your breaths were getting worse as you gazed up at him.

Air stilled mid inhale, face twitching beneath the mask as the extent of your injuries settled in - quickly meeting your own stained hands with one of his own to help.

He couldn't even move you. It would just—

"Simon.. please."

And his heart was shattering all over again, the weakness in your voice as both your eyes and tone pleaded. He knew what you needed, hand withdrawing briefly from your face to pull the balaclava from his features.

Large fingertips went back to working the loose strands from your face, stubbled jaw tense to keep his bottom lip from trembling, leaning closer to press his warm forehead against yours as you struggled to breathe.

"Don't."

One word, pleading, grip slipping into your hairline as his eyes remained locked with yours, thumb gently swiping the tears that trailed down your cheek, choking on the very air between you while he watched your lips pull up into a pained smile.

"I love you."

His face turned upwards as your whisper filled his ears, drawing your face gently against his chest as his features twisted with his own agony, a tight inhale accompanying an anguished glare at the sky - silently cursing a God that wasn't listening.

This wasn't fair. Not you. Not you.

A slight shift and your body was in his lap, nestled against his chest, one strong arm tight around your back and cupping your side, the other continuing to gently caress your cheek as his gaze turned back down to yours, tears spilling down his own face.

"Please. I can't.. I don't want to do this without you."

Ghost begged, rough voice cracking as he leaned down once more, capturing your soft lips in a brief kiss, moving to your forehead to inhale your scent, pressing another kiss there and leaning back to look into your eyes, feeling the warmth from your body seeping into his.

"Take me home, Simon. I want to be buried, properly. Please."

He nodded as your lips fumbled around the request, gloved fingers releasing your cheek to curl gently around your hand as you lifted your tags up towards him, barely able to see through the watery barrier glossing his vision.

"Of course, love. We'll go home."

Each slow, waning beat of your heart made your vision focus and unfocus in a repetitive rhythm as you stared up at his face, shuddering breaths burning in your lungs, loose grip beginning to falter on his hand, cheek pressing into his chest.

He could feel it too.

A sob rose from his throat as your body stilled in his arms, drawing you in tighter, both arms enveloping you. Unable to watch the sparkle fade in your eyes, he buried his face into your hair instead, muttering softly into your ear as he cradled the back of your head, rocking back and forth.