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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year ago

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Reign down on me - Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment

-🐺-

When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.

You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time.

“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!”

The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you.

Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too.

“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”

You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile.

“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness.

“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”

Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.

“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname.

“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.

Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance.

“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.

“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”

“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.

“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”

“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”

Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’.

“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”

“Pup?” Gaz repeated.

He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise.

You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly.

“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin.

“Do you want us to call you that now?”

Fuck off.

Get Fucked.

Why don’t I call you that?

Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.

“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ��most people do’.

You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him.

“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again.

“What?”

“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”

You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing.

“Never said he was,” you answered defensively.

“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”

You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be.

“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”

Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.

“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently.

You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”

“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly.

“You sure?”

You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions.

How could you willingly let go of that?

-🐺-

Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.

They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.

It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.

They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.

But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment.

“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them.

They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within.

Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty?

“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s.

You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air.

“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head.

“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”

“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”

“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”

You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.

“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea.

You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered.

“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”

You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to.

“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you.

And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.

“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”

“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”

Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago.

Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.

“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could.

You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down.

“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”

“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”

You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong.

“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”

Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.

“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”

Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.

Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon.

From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn.

Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems.

Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.

You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage.

They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses.

You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons.

“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”

-🐺-

“Pup?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!

“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”

He’d asked you something…

“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.

You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes.

Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him.

“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle.

“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”

“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight.

“That’s my good pup.”

He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it.

The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically.

It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting.

You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights.

Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt.

However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments.

“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him.

If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.

Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.

“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go.

“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.”

With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.

From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce.

“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”

“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.

He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise.

“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”

Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor.

Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out.

You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…

You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street.

You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead.

Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.

Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot.

“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear.

Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.

When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders

“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”

You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field.

Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill.

In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.

Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face.

That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee.

By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else.

“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”

“Sir, I-“

Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves.

“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!” he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats.

You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.

“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.”

You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes.

“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?”

Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front.

“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”

“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed.

“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.”

You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching.

Speaking of-

“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms.

With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.

After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat.

You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind.

Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets.

Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead.

“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”

“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.

“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”

“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”

That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements.

“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”

There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough.

You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could.

“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”

You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you.

“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.

Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.

In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes.

“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost.

“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?”

You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives.

“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.”

You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes.

Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times.

The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance.

Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.

It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.

Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths.

“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”

You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building.

“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.

A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe.

You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new…something you hadn’t encountered before.

“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it.

“Here, take this.”

Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.

“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown.

“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”

You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered.

“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you.

Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now…

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

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