#imagining the ghosts as found family is simultaneously self care and self destruction

[callofdooty]

A Place To Get Away From All The Cold

A prompt fill I actually completed for Whumpuary 2023 - I did have a few others, but chances are I won't get them out by the end of the month. It's a miracle this one even got finished in time HAHA

For Whumpuary Prompts Hypothermia and "Stay with me"

Fandom: Call of Duty (Call of Duty: Ghosts)

Summary: Keegan ends up hypothermic and he goes through the five stages of grief from being cared for.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences (Lots of cursing)

Relationships: Keegan P. Russ & Everyone, Implied Keegan/Ajax (Can be read as platonic or romantic)

Warnings/labels: Fluff & Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Ghosts as Found Family, Self-Hatred, Inaccuracies in most fields, Hypothermia Whump,

Can also be read on ao3 here!

The point is, Keegan liked to at least believe he was pretty durable, as Elias once said. Operation Sand Viper taught him many things, and that just so happened to be one of them. Sure, he came out of it feeling like he was made of glass - weathered down, one wrong move away from shattering irreversibly - but looking back it’s… a reassurance. A sign that he could get through anything. They survived. Fifteen against hundreds.

Keegan has been through a lot of shit throughout his life. That’s no secret; not to anyone that spends 5 minutes within his presence and especially not to the people that have known him for much more than 5 minutes. He’s “impossibly tough” (thanks Rorke) and “disturbingly durable” (thanks Elias) both of which are products of him going through the various personal layers of Hell a little too early in his life. 

Keegan was a survivor, a hardened soldier. He'd looked death in the face and he'd won.

Which is why it’s nothing short of mortifying to be in this situation. Hazy, confused and fucking cold. His shivers were bordering on violent, it’s a miracle his chattering teeth hadn’t bitten through his tongue yet. Simple things felt far too difficult; his usually sharp mind was well and truly dulled by the biting chill creeping through him. Of all the things, how the fuck was this the thing that overwhelmed him? Had him struggling to comprehend anything beyond the tremors barrelling through his body?

And the worst part? Rorke is the one bearing witness to his most pathetic display yet. He would’ve preferred anyone else, in all honesty. Even Merrick. Even Elias. Because while Merrick probably would’ve poked fun at his expense, and Elias would have  - no doubt - gone into full “fatherly” mode, they wouldn’t really judge him for it. Or at least, Keegan didn’t think they would.

But Rorke? He’s... Well. Keegan wasn’t exactly sure what to make of him. The man was his captain; impressive, reliable but also downright terrifying. Keegan didn’t want to say he was a hardass per se, especially considering some of the other superior officers he’d met in his lifetime; but he definitely didn’t have the same tact that Elias did. 

Rorke took shit very seriously, he expected the best - and only the best - out of them at all times. So him seeing Keegan at his worst? Seeing Keegan crumble over some chilly temperatures? Yeah, not exactly what Keegan would call ideal.  

This was so stupid. So fucking embarrassing. Why did Rorke have to be the one to get a front row seat to this shit? If the abyss looked him dead in the eyes and threatened to banish him to an eternity of nothing right now, he would take it up on the offer in a heartbeat. 

Actually, with the way he felt, the abyss might actually be here to do just that. 

Fuck he was tired. 

What was he thinking about again…?

There’s a light pressure on his wrist, right on his pulse point and then a faint muttering of expletives.

“Christ kid, you’re freezing.”

He sure is. 

His eyes flutter open just barely, it almost surprises him how heavy his eyelids feel. Should they feel this heavy? He doesn’t think they should. Was opening his eyes always this hard? 

“Y’seein’ me, Keegan?” Technically, yes he was. It's a little hard to focus but he can identify him well enough. He can’t even nod his head in reply, but the slight tilt must’ve been good enough. “Good. Stay with me, now.” the pressure on his wrist stays for a bit, until finally the captain moves to help him sit up.

There’s something almost funny about the way Rorke handles him. Almost like he’s trying to be gentle, though Keegan’s not sure he’d ever quite attribute such a word to Rorke of all people. It’s made quickly unfunny, however, when Rorke's jacket is gingerly shoved onto him, as well as the hat he was wearing. He was wearing his captain's jacket and beanie. Because he was beaten out by the weather.

At this rate he couldn't tell if the embarrassment or the bone-deep chill was more exhausting. 

"We need to get you out of here. Think y'can stand?" 

In Keegan’s defence, he did try. He tried his very fucking damndest to get his shaky legs to cooperate, but Rorke wasn’t having it, making him sit right back down after only a few seconds of watching him struggle. The apology he uttered under his breath barely caught Keegan’s notice before he was being (carefully) heaved up into Rorke’s arms.

If he didn’t wish for certain death before, he certainly did now. 

Rorke seems to understand, and rumbles an apology again. Keegan just hopes he didn't unknowingly pull a face to garner such a reaction. 

"Sorry, kid. It'll be faster this way anyway."

Perhaps luckily for him, the entire jourmey doesn’t exactly register in his memory. In fact, he’s pretty sure he ended up passing out at one point; one moment he’s staring blearily up at Rorke, and the next he’s suddenly coming-to in a helo, already curled into Ajax’s side with a comforting arm wrapped around his waist. No more biting winds to gnaw at him, but he still felt more akin to a popsicle than a person. 

There's some muttering around him that he doesn't have the energy to decipher. A hand settles on the nape of his neck, and he follows it to a sympathetic-looking Merrick. The look in his eyes is nothing short of soft, and Keegan would've bashfully ducked out of its path, had the dumb bastard not opened his mouth to ruin it all.

“Not doin’ so hot, huh?” That fucking–

“‘Sshole.” Keegan grumbles, pressing closer to Ajax. Rorke’s chortling loudly from somewhere, which only furthers his annoyance. Ajax swats Merrick's side with the same hand he had around Keegan, though he was failing to hide his amusement.

"He just came back around, man, give him a break." The chiding only gets an indignant scoff out of Merrick before he shuffles up, now pressing Keegan between them as he threw his arm around him in a mirror of Ajax's. Surprisingly, it's kind of comfortable. A steady, warm presence on either side of him, protective in a sense. He could almost fall back asleep if it wasn't for Rorke's distant order to keep him awake.

Great. 

"You okay?" Ajax asks more quietly now. There's not exactly room for a private conversation in this situation, but it's as close as they could get. Out of all the Ghosts, Ajax seemed to understand him the most; was always considerate of the fact that Keegan hated drawing attention to himself or got overwhelmed when too many people were focused on him. He'd lowered his voice, made a moment just for the two of them so he'd feel more comfortable to talk. Ajax was one of the few people to ever accomodate for him. It had his stomach flipping a little. No one had ever known him the way Ajax knew him. 

"'m tired..." he mutters lowly, burying his face further into the other's shoulder with a sigh. Ajax's thumb starts to run up and down where it rested on his waist; a small gesture but it's soothing all the same.

"We'll be back and through medical before you know it," Right. Medical. He caught his frustrated huff before it could leave, burying his face more into Ajax's shoulder. Sleep is all he wanted right now, but that's the last thing he was going to get. He's allowed to be a little miffed about it, he thinks, but there's no need to get huffy to Ajax about it. 

"Wanna play I Spy?" The sudden joking remark has Keegan grinning sleepily, unable to hold back the chuff of laughter that preceeded it.

"God no, please." He pleads in response, "Anything but that." 

"I'm sure a refined gentleman of your tastes must prefer 20 Questions," Merrick supplies, joining in on the conversation now that it wasn't hushed.

"More like the Quiet Game." The resulting snort that gets out of Ajax is every bit worth it. 

"He's saving 20 Questions for the medical team." 

"Right, right, so you just played a real long game of I Spy with Rorke, yeah?"

"Oh my god,"

"You having fun over there boys?" Elias calls softly. Their heads snap up to look at him, startled out of their joking pretty quickly. Well. The other two had quick movements. Keegan could barely lift his head, but he still managed to look at Elias. All he does is give them a fond smile. "Good to see you more alert, Keegan. Had us worried for a while there." 

Oh god, don't make him think about that. If there was one thing he was lacking, it was the mental energy he'd need to deal with everything that's happened in the past... However long. He's not exactly sure how long he was out for. Surely not more than a couple hours. 

"Thank you, sir," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Definitely... doing better now." 

"Honestly kinda scared the shit out of me when Rorke carried you in." Ajax's brow creases, "Think that goes for all of us."

"I've never seen Rorke or Elias fuss over someone like that before." Merrick mutters quietly. He can tell it's Merrick's attempt at sparing Keegan a little of embarrassment, but he still feels his figurative hackles raise about it.

Jesus fucking Christ. Can they please not destroy the last of his dignity? A shaky sigh left him, frustration building in his chest.  "Not my finest moment."

"We all have our moments Keegan." Elias placates him, voice firm and strong but in no way demeaning or condescending. It's one of the things he appreciates about him; preferring to strictly build others up, rather than burn them down and rely on the slim chance that they can find a phoenix in the ashes. "There's no shame in that." He's too tired (and too smart) to argue with that; though he still feels terrible, still sits uncomfortably with guilt and an unhealthy dash of self-hatred, there's no point to really put up a fight about it. He fucked up. It happens. And he'll just have to prove himself later.

'Turn the sting of survival into fuel for bettering yourself.' As Rorke had once told him. Fuck ups are dangerous, but getting through one intact almost always guarantees that you'll be improving. (Especially when you're on Rorke and Elias' team.)

He gives a small nod and rests himself against Ajax's shoulder again.

"Don't lose your head thinking about it now. We'll go through it once you're in the state to do so. Alright?"

"Yes, sir." Defeated. For now. He's sure this'll come back to haunt him for a while, but for now he'll try and let it rest, idly listening to the conversations that sprung up between his teamamtes, though it mostly ended up as background noise. As Ajax's head comes to rest on top of his (more comforting contact that he soaks up like a sponge) he starts going back into his own thoughts. 

...He needs to figure out the least awkward way to give the hat and jacket back.

[callofdooty]

lmao bet

Don't imagine Keegan and Merrick trying to help each other keep it together. Don't imagine Keegan stressing out, trying to find Logan and keep his eye on his team at the same time. Don't imagine Keegan being afraid to even sleep in case something bad happens.

I also forgot that Rorke could be considered the first time he felt like he'd failed a team member by not being there. So also don't imagine Keegan spiralling into thinking that all of this - everything that Rorke has done to them, every loss they've suffered, every bad happenstance - is somehow his fault. Is it realistic for him to think that? No, absolutely not. But survivor's guilt is a funny bastard, and when you already (wrongfully) blame yourself for some of the circumstances, it's easy to get lost in believing you're to blame for every circumstance.

I wonder how much Keegan blames himself for Elias's death, given that if he'd returned to the Luxor earlier he might have been able to intervene before Rorke killed him.

I can make this worse: Fanon dictates that Elias was "Team Dad" so then Keegan didn't only fail his captain, but he lost someone that was like a father to him.

And I can bet money that he'd tamp his own grief down because Elias was Logan and Davids actual dad, rather than just a father figure.

As if grief isn't something that can be shared.

[callofdooty]

Aaaaa I've got stuff to catch up on!

We'll start with Throwback Thursday, here's the first work I published for the Ghosts fandom (and COD as a whole) :)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Characters: Keegan P. Russ, Thomas A Merrick, Other Ghosts mentioned in passing

Relationship: Keegan P. Russ & Thomas A. Merrick

Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Contains Spoilers for the story of Call Of Duty: Ghosts

Summary:

'"I miss them." Keegan chokes out finally, voice fragile and breaking, barely audible. Shame stirs in his stomach, making him nauseous before working its way up, gripping his heart and then balling up to cause a lump in his throat that he tries his best to swallow around. "I miss him." The shame ignites like a gasoline trail, flaring quickly into anger (whether it's at himself or Rorke... it's hard to tell with all the smoke) that only makes him feel more sick. "God damn it, I miss that piece of shit." And Merrick understands. Because of course he does.'

[callofdooty]

My Heroes Are Dead, They Died In My Head

Fandom: Call of Duty (Call of Duty: Ghosts)

Summary: Written for Whumpuary 2023 using Prompt 4 Betrayal & Alt Prompt 10 Grief

After the events of Struck Down, Keegan is left stuck in his own head. But what else can a man think about when his former captain has crept out of the shadows and stolen from him the most important person in his life?

It's safe to say that coping has never been his strong suit.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Keegan P. Russ & Alex V. "Ajax" Johnson

Warnings/labels: Spoilers for Call of Duty: Ghosts, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Major Character Death, Murder, Grief/Mourning

Read it on AO3 Here

The ride back was quiet. The occupants of the helo half expected the heavy weight of the atmosphere to pull the damn thing back down. No one dared speak that thought aloud, though.

It pressed on all of their shoulders. Keegan’s quite literally. He’d carried Ajax out of there, after all. Thinking about it too much made him feel sick. 

But here, that’s all he can really do. Think, think and think again. 

It was Rorke…

His hand balled into a fist, knuckles undoubtedly paling underneath the patchily stained fabric of his gloves. Rorke. Their leader. Their protector . He’s behind all of this; culprit of the unspeakable. It all feels like some kind of fucked up nightmare, something that’ll have him startling awake in a cold sweat, heart stuttering wildly behind a beaten ribcage. But it’s not. It’s not a nightmare, or some twisted, intrusive daydream dredged up from the darkest parts of his mind. It’s painfully real. The way Ajax went frightfully limp in his arms was real. That one, sweet constant in his life slipped through his fingers like ashes. Though not as gruesome as sand congealed by blood and tears, it shattered his world with the same force. 

Hope, love and willpower. All obliterated in one fell swoop. Would be impressive if it wasn’t so agonising. 

He slumped back against the wall, unable to settle his trembling. Gone. Ajax was gone. He…He was…Keegan would never hear that laugh again. Would never see that knowing smile again. Would never share the joys and sorrows of life with his best friend again. 

Oh God, Ajax was dead.  

And the most fucked up part is that the confirmation is a relief . He’s relieved that he had to behold the worst sight in his life; relieved that Ajax died right there in his hold. Because at least then he knows this Ghost - this spark so dear to his heart - wouldn’t come back to hurt him. Wouldn’t resurface after over a decade of silence just to tear apart everything he loves. 

What’s more painful? For a loved one to die so soon, but be left with memories bathed in light? Or for a loved one to return from the dead, only reduced to the darkest version of themself?

Keegan had spent a long time wishing that his hero would someday come back. Now? He’s learned that sometimes, it’s better to wish for them to stay buried.

His hands curled tighter. A wrath that he hadn't felt in a long, long time burned in the back of his throat. Grief pulled heavy on his chest, achingly familiar and unwelcome. In the dull, defeaning silence he made his own wordless vow. For Ajax. For Grim. For Torch. For all the people that had died for them to get here.

Next time, he'll make sure Rorke can't crawl his way back up from hell. No matter how much it'll hurt. Even if he has to stare his former captain in the eyes - set ablaze with hatred and disdain where pride and warmth once flickered - and watch the final shred of hope he'd held onto for a decade fizzle out in the glassy reflection. Even if he has to confront his worst fear face-to-face; be met with the the thing he dreads more than anything in the world, he'll do it. He'll take his nightmare and he'll drive it right back into the shadows where it belongs.

Next time, the dead will stay buried. Even if he has to bury his heart along with it.

[callofdooty]

WIP Wednesday! Not too much has been added since the last wip for this, but progress is progress! Plus I refined some of it so I'm happier with it! (Though honestly I'm already vibin pretty well with this so far)

Woe, COD: Ghosts angst be upon ye!

This is a prompt fill for Whumpuary! And the prompt is Betrayal. It's sitting at about 400 words rn and i have no idea how long it's going to get.

CW: Death, Grief, Heavy Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, minor spoilers for the COD: Ghosts story (though this is set pretty early on)

The ride back was quiet. The occupants of the helo half expected the heavy weight of the atmosphere to pull the damn thing back down. No one dared speak that thought aloud, though.

It pressed on all of their shoulders. Keegan’s quite literally. He’d carried Ajax out of there, after all. Thinking about it too much made him feel sick. 

But here, that’s all he can really do. Think, think and think again. 

It was Rorke…

His hand balls into a fist, knuckles undoubtedly paling underneath the patchily stained fabric of his gloves. Rorke. Their leader. Their protector. He’s behind all of this; culprit of the unspeakable. It all feels like some kind of fucked up nightmare, something that’d have him startling awake in a cold sweat, heart stuttering wildly behind a beaten ribcage. But it’s not. It’s not a nightmare, or some twisted, intrusive daydream dredged up from the darkest parts of his mind. It’s painfully real. The way Ajax went frightfully limp in his arms was real. That one, sweet constant in his life slipped through his fingers like ashes. Though not as gruesome as sand congealed by blood and tears, it shattered his world with the same force. 

Hope, love and willpower. All obliterated in one fell swoop. Would be impressive if it wasn’t so agonising.  ---

He slumps back against the wall, unable to settle his trembling. Gone. Ajax was gone. He…He was…Keegan would never hear that laugh again. Would never see that knowing smile again. Would never share the joys and sorrows of life with his best friend again. 

Oh God, Ajax was dead. 

And the most fucked up part is that the confirmation is a relief. He’s relieved that he had to behold the worst sight in his life; relieved that Ajax died right there in his hold. Because at least then he knows that this Ghost - this spark so dear to his heart - wouldn’t come back to hurt him. Wouldn’t resurface after over a decade of silence just to tear apart everything he loves. 

What’s more painful? For a loved one to die so soon, but be left with memories bathed in light? Or for a loved one to return from the dead, only reduced to the darkest version of themself?

Keegan had spent a long time wishing that his hero would someday come back. Now? He’s learned that sometimes, it’s better to wish for them to stay buried.

[callofdooty]

For the character bingo, I'm gonna do Ajax. I haven't seen many people do one of these for him, man's is underappreciated

RARARARARARA AJAX BELOVED

WARNING: GHOSTS SPOILERS BELOW!!!

This man. Was done so dirty by the canon. He deserved more screentime. Thinking abt him makes me cry, especially when it comes to his death.

Like this character went through hell and survived. Lost his captain. Has to live through what is close enough to a near post-apocalyptic world where his side is losing the war. And then he gets captured. And THEN! IT TURNS OUT! HIS CAPTAIN! IS ON THE ENEMY'S SIDE! This is the first time he's seen Rorke in a DECADE and not only is he still alive, he's now become the worst possible version of himself!!! And the others have NO FUCKING CLUE.

So he's trapped there. Unable to warn his team - his FAMILY - that they're up against more than they could've ever expected. Like sure, they went up against unbeatable odds and won, but they're going up against one of the only other people who survived that shitshow. Their god damned leader.

And then he ends up breaking - he ends up telling Rorke where the safehouse in Las Vegas is. And then he's killed. Not even by Rorke but a fucking Federation Soldier??? And as he's there, dying, his team finally gets to him. And all he could probably think about was warning them. Trying to protect them in his final moments - his last act that does nothing to dampen the guilt he's suffocating in. Keegan holds him while he dies, and it's likelg that he can't even take comfort in it. He can't peacefully let go.

He's put them in the path of danger. And now he's leaving them to suffer the consequences without him. Even with his last breath, he can't apologise. Can't warn them properly. He dies fearful, guilt ridden and in the embrace of his best friend that he feels like he betrayed. Surrounded by the team he feels he failed.

Ajax's last moments are a last-ditch effort to savd the ones he loves. And it's not enough to save them from the oncoming storm.

THAT SHIT FUCKING HURTS

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[callofdooty]

Just us

Keegan P. Russ & Thomas A. Merrick (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst, spoilers for the story of COD: Ghosts

A short, messy and incoherent drabble because I desired Angst :) Set shortly after the events of the game. Just Merrick and Keegan having a heart-to-heart. Extremely rough around the edges, but this is my first proper dive into writing these characters.

Keegan is cold.

It's nothing new, really. He's always been cold, and not in the emotional sense. Literal. Physical. Running colder than the rest was something of an inside joke for the Ghosts. Or, at least it used to be. Rorke used to rib him about needing an extra layer all the time, and back then he couldn't tell if the man was just joking or genuinely held some sort of distaste for the fact. He never had the courage to ask.

With the perspective he has now... Well the lines only become more blurry. Even now, he's not sure what to think.

The cold is its own type of twisted comfort at this point. The chill of a high vantage point, for example, was familiar, a home he could find almost anywhere, a place to put his heart and no one else could find it; because it is his heart, it's everything he dedicates himself to. Gun at the ready. Eyes sharp. Wits sharper.

But up here, there is no gun. And there is no target. Just him, staring off into the shining lights of a city, distant familiar glimmers taunting him, because of all the things to remain constant in his life, it was the reminder that he's always been alone, far removed from the world around him, isolated in a way that's never felt like a choice, like he had any control over it.

Even in the Ghosts, Keegan had his moments of feeling out of place, especially starting out. A young kid, a quiet kid who didn't actually know how to be... a kid. A person, even. And it's not like anyone around him knew how to do that either - most of them jaded adults who lost any semblence of their youth long before Keegan was even on this earth - so nobody could teach him how. Ajax and Merrick tried, they... really tried... but the lost can't lead the stranded; they barely knew how to act either. So of course, it was an awkward middle ground. Too "mature" to relate to anyone his age, but too young to actually find any sense of belonging outside of Merrick and Ajax.

Even then, he's lucky that they even put up with him. Keegan knows he's not exactly fun to hang out with, even less so when he was younger and lacked any practice in anything that wasn't strictly serious business. Their insistence of including him probably did more than they, or even Keegan himself, realised at the time.  It didn't magically make him into some social butterfly - he still prefers to let others do the talking - but it sure as hell taught him that he had the capacity to be something other than a weapon. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it meant a lot to him. Without them, he figures his life would lack the pitiful embers of warmth it has.

Or perhaps it moreso of an ember, now, seeing as the other one snuffed out not too long ago. Slipped right through his fingertips, ashes whisking away in the wind to join the vast desert comprised of the shit. He wonders, idly, if the rest of the men on that mission greeted Ajax on the other side. Wonders if he's now greeted Elias.

He wonders, ever so bitterly, if he threw away his youth for nothing.

Fourteen men against hundreds. And that now amounts to this: two survivors left to shoulder the weight of a legacy that's since been crushed in the hands of the very fucker that made it.

And for what? A crime none of them even commit. A crime that none of them would ever dream of committing, apart from the son of a bitch persecuting them for it.

Fucking traitor. A roach that refuses to leave, no matter what you do to get rid of it. And now he has Logan, doing god knows what to that poor kid. The kid that Elias had trusted them with.

Fuck. He doesn't even know if Hesh is okay yet.

Familiar footsteps break him out of his thoughts.

"Gonna catch a cold out here, frosty."

"Not how that works," he replies dully, refusing to look away from the distant glimpses of light and life. He hears Merrick sigh, those heavy footsteps slowly approaching until they were right next to him. Merrick slumped down in that spot, looking out at the same skyline with the most resigned, exhausted eyes he's ever seen on the guy. They don't speak for a while, letting the gentle winds fill the dead air between them, until Keegan finally breaks it.

"'s the kid okay?"

Another sigh, shakier this time.

"Stable," Merrick reports, "Kick's watching over him with Riley."

"You know hell's gonna break loose when he wakes up, right?"

"I think hell's what we'll need to actually kill Rorke."

"As if we haven't raised enough of it the last few times we've tried."

"Takes a lot to kill a Ghost."

"Unless you're him," Keegan could taste the bitterness as it rolled off his tongue, "then it's easy pickings across the board,"

"Keegan-"

"We're fucked, Merrick." Keegan hisses, turning to glare at the other, stunning him into silence. "He got Ajax. He got Elias. And now he has Logan. We were barely keeping with it in the first place, nevermind now! We're a thread away from losing everything." At this point, Keegan was shaking, breaths shuddering as words spilled out, built up over who knows how long. "That sick fuck knows he's won, and he took Logan just to piss in the wound."

Merrick breaks through his shock almost immediately, shaking his head. The stress - the loss - had gotten to all of them. Ajax should have been the final straw, the point of no return for Rorke. It should've been the moment where they stopped fucking around and got on with it. And yet here they are. Four men down, the rest breaking apart like glass. In the exact state that Rorke wanted them in.

Fuck that.

"We're going to get him back, Keegan." Merrick refutes, "I know you, brother, and this isn't you. You don't lay down for anyone, especially not Rorke." He watches as Keegan averts his gaze, stubbornly keeping it to the floor. He frowns, and grabs the other man's shoulder, firm but not harsh, "Hey. Look at me."

Keegan isn't a particularly emotional guy. Merrick's known that since they met a whole 22 years ago. Hell, the kid didn't even really joke until a good few months into being friends with him and Ajax. Much like the rest of them, the easiest thing to resort to is anger; raw and powerful, fuel for action and a momentary relief from fear, or hesitation. But Keegan's anger, even so, wasn't exactly the same. Just as brutal, but hardly ever as explosive. It was contained and precise, much like everything Keegan did, much like everything Keegan felt. So when Keegan looked up at him, it almost took him aback to see the amount of grief in those eyes, uninhibited and nothing short of painful.

"I miss them." Keegan chokes out finally, voice fragile and breaking, barely audible. Shame stirs in his stomach, making him nauseous before working its way up, gripping his heart and then balling up to cause a lump in his throat that he tries his best to swallow around. "I miss him." The shame ignites like a gasoline trail, flaring quickly into anger (whether it's at himself or Rorke... it's hard to tell with all the smoke) that only makes him feel more sick. "God damn it, I miss that piece of shit."

And Merrick understands. Because of course he does. Rorke was their leader, the one they all depended on and the one they thought would always guide them instead of turning into the nightmare that he is now. It was the worst fear of any Ghost.

Keegan's head thumps against his shoulder in defeat, and suddenly they weren't in - or just shy of - their 40s. They were teenagers again, with only each other to truly trust in. Just as lost, but even more alone than they ever had been.

"What do we do Merrick?" Keegan mutters, "God, what do we fucking do? It's over... We can't win this shit."

"Look at me." Merrick repeats, almost wincing at seeing Keegan's mournful gaze again. "We're not losing, alright? We're gonna get back out there, we'll find Logan and we'll take down that son of a bitch. For Elias. For Ajax. For everything he's taken from us."

Keegan hesitates, searching Merrick's eyes before sighing, nodding meekly.

"Right. You're right." He almost loses his balance as Merrick pulls him in. Neither of them had ever been the touch-y feel-y sort, far from it actually, especially in Keegan's case; but both of them know this hug is overdue, something they've needed for longer than either wants to admit. And they stay like that, leaning into each other, watching the skyline in silence. For the first time in a while, Keegan takes comfort in warmth.

"It's just us, now, Keegan," Merrick sighs. "Let's make it count."