Anarchy (Spec Ops Guy(s) x Reader)

Chapter 6

You're jolted back into alertness by the slamming of a door right next to your head.

"Shit," you hear whispered from above you. 

You quickly shut your eyes again and feign sleep. Slowly recalling your situation and why you're being carried in some man's arms. Tank's arms, you remember. Tank stood completely still for a few seconds after the door slammed and you could feel him watching your face to see if he'd woken you up.

He lets out a small sigh of relief when your charade works and you have to hold back a smile at the oddly cute gesture. It's an unexpected action from the man that constantly leaves you flustered. 

His feet pad down a flight of creaky stairs and you feel him maneuvering himself so that your head doesn't hit anything, sometimes letting out whispered curses of frustration. 

You hear the creak of a door opening as he walks over to lay you gently down on a mattress so soft it envelops you like a hug. He's gentle to make sure that you're laying on your side so as to avoid any unnecessary pressure on your back. 

Once he's laid you down the room is silent for a moment as you lay there and Tank stands still. You assume he's just checking over you to make sure you're in a comfortable position, but then you hear the rustle of his movement as he moves to the end of the bed and gently removes your shoes. 

He then lays a soft blanket across your "sleeping" form and quickly exits the room, the soft click of the door shutting behind him. 

Your eyes snap open the second you know the coast is clear and you take in your surroundings.

Your first impression is that the room is quite cozy. It's somewhat small and along the walls are haphazard stacks of books. What strikes you as strange, however, is the lack of windows.

You move off the bed to walk around, noting the plush carpet covering most of the hardwood flooring. Looking at the stacks of books, you notice that most of them are philosophical texts or political commentary, with a few other genres occasionally showing up. You spend a little while perusing around the room while they think you're soundly asleep.

Once you had spent a reasonable amount of time pretending to sleep, you decided to creep out of the room to find Tank. 

Directly outside the door is a staircase leading upwards towards a dimly lit area. You slowly ascend, taking in the space as it comes into view but stop short when you hear voices coming from the area. From your position on the stairs they shouldn't be able to see you yet so you crouch and listen.

"She's downstairs sleeping. Fell asleep while I was carrying her so I just let her be," You recognize the voice of Tank saying. 

"She's gonna be fucking heartbroken when I tell her about the kid," Your heart drops. 

"What?" You ask softly, climbing the rest of the way up the stairs. You see both men's heads swivel to face you, Riot standing up quickly as if to walk towards you.

You duly note that most of their outward gear is off, leaving them in only their black base layer with a cloth mask covering the bottom half of their face. 

It was nice to actually look them in the eyes for once when you were talking, but now you could see the pain in them when they looked at you.

"What happened to the kid? What are you talking about?" you ask carefully. Riot moves towards you but you step back and he stops. 

"It's not your fault," he says, making your heart beat faster for fear of his next words. 

"We got to the hospital you told us about, but there were police and national guard swarming everywhere, there were too many and I couldn't risk just making a break for the entrance," he says and dread fills your stomach as you come to the realization of what you forgot to do.

"I forgot to call," you said numbly. What should have been an easy fix for doctors had cost this young boy his life and it was all your fault because you'd let sleep get the best of you. 

"He's not dead," Riot rushes out quickly, sensing your impending emotional devastation. Your head snaps up, "What do you mean? Why am I going to be heartbroken then?" You ask.

"He's okay," he says, "but a squad of policemen snuck up behind us so I had to run to the entrance of the hospital, but the police wouldn't let me through unless I turned him over into police custody. I thought he would be fine because most people I know that were arrested protesting were let out the next day, but I hadn't seen the news," his vice quiets out towards the end, as if reluctant to continue.

"What news?" you ask, sorting through memories of any significant stories you had seen over the past few days, but coming up empty.

"Trump is arresting anyone suspected of being ANTIFA because he declared them to be a terrorist organization, which includes anybody fighting against fascism," you stare dumbfounded by the monumental stupidity of this decision as Riot continues, "which means that the FBI can take anyone they suspect into custody and if they say anything they can be accused of terrorism," he finishes. 

"But everyone should be against fascism, that's the most controlling form of government there is, aren't republicans against fascism?" You ask, unable to comprehend how completely idiotic the President and his supporters are. 

"Yes, but they don't care," he says. Of course they don't because they blindly follow this man like he's a religious leader, you think to yourself. 

"Well shit," You say, still trying to understand how some people could be so unironically moronic.

"My thoughts exactly," he replies. 

"This is all my fault, fuck," you say, your head falling into your hands as your head pounds with the gravity of the situation and your eyes let silent tears slip down your cheeks. 

"No, hey, look at me, look at me, this isn't your fault okay?" Riot grips your wrists to try and pry your hands from your face as you turn your head away indignantly. If you had just remembered to call, this all could have been prevented.

He finally manages to get a look at your face and you weakly resist when he pulls you into his chest. His arms are so tight it's almost like you're being smothered but at the same time the feeling snaps something inside of you that you hadn't realized was there, and all of a sudden you're body is wracked with small sobs that had probably been repressed for longer than you knew.

You press into the hard line of his chest and let your tears fall onto his shirt, wrapping your arms lightly around his waist in return, thankful for the intimate gesture.

You can't remember the last time somebody had really hugged you like they cared. You'd exchanged short companionate hugs with friends when greeting them or saying goodbye, but they were always a short display of friendship rather than a true moment of vulnerability.

It was nice to know that in times of crisis you had somebody to lean on for support.

You hear Tank walk up behind you and wrap his towering body around the back of your small frame, trapping you in a sandwich of sturdy men. You felt safe for the first time in a while. 

--

don't forget that it's okay to feel sad or need emotional support during this time and if you feel up to it reach out to your friends and family to make sure they're doing okay. be kind to yourself and know that any emotions you are feeling are completely valid and ily❤️

register to vote if you are of age and you haven't already! it's so important and every vote makes a difference truly! take some time to educate yourself on the candidates you're voting for and make sure they support your beliefs on political and social issues.

this generation is so strong and powerful and we are going to be the one to make a change, i believe in us! you are never too young to educate yourself and stand up for your beliefs and the rights of others❤️