#they almost hit their head on the way in and they're just....uninviting??

[liroyalty]

"Oh~ So there you are, princess~"

"Camellia was starting to wonder where you disappeared too~"

"..." Oh fuck, not these bitches. "Unless someone is dying, don't talk to me."

"Now, now, princess. Is that anyway to be?" Amalia cooed, but nothing in it was endearing or sweet, it was purely sour. "We've just been wondering where you'd been these past few weeks. It's not like you to leave the palace for long."

"Get you're filthy ears cleaned. I very clearly indicated I don't want to talk to you unless it's an emergency." And even as Suzanne tried to walk away, the two noble sisters dared to follow her. Still running those loose lips of theirs.

"Is worrying for our princess's wellbeing not a emergency?" False concerned leaked out of Vivien's lips. "You were gone from Camellia for quite a while, after all! Some may have begun to think you were being held somewhere!"

"What I do & where is none of your business." And it really wasn't.

"Oh, no need to get defensive, princess~" Everytime they addressed her by her title, it was laced with utter sarcasm. This was no princess before them, just someone with half-peasant blood & finery to hide her foulness.

"Goodness, it's like your trying to hide something from us~"

"Or perhaps... someone~?"

"..." Oh, so that's it, is it?

"And why does that matter? What? Don't tell me you both have your panties in a twist because I can get a companion without having to pay for it?"

"What?"

"Excuse me?!"

"No one is soon forgetting how you got your mother to pay for Lord Seymour's firstborn & Lord Cross's secondborn to be your arm candy for the Spring Blossom Ball. I'm sorry you're so pathetic that you can't get someone for free, when even I don't have that problem. I'm especially sorry for you Vivien, who would accept one of the Seymour's offered arms when everyone knows they're imbeciles are the verge of losing everything, did no one else truly want you?"

"WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!"

"A bitch? Me? Oh my! It's almost like if you don't leave an animal alone, they'll attack."

Attack is it? Amalia's not afraid to raise her hand then! "YOU DON'T KNOW YOUR PLA-"

It was a word that was cut off mid way, when a violent torrent of dark matter blitzed right by both Vivien & Amalia's heads, the force within the energy easily able to send them both back onto their bottoms, & leave a black indent into the wall of the palace hallway just behind them. It would have been more then enough to remove their heads from their shoulders if either of them had been hit...

"I know my place far better then you're entire family does combined." Sue's hand had been raised, a fresh coating of blackness across her palm. The dark matter orb's source was clear & the message it sent was even clearer. Suzanne was no longer the quiet little dame she had been as a young girl, Vivien & Amalia's lives were just a game to the princess. "You should double cheek your own, before you lose it."

"Oh, & you are both officially uninvited to my birthday. If you show up anyway, I'll have Reginaldus, or perhaps, the black hound, escort you out. Now get the fuck out of my house."

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Rabbit Bites Back

Triggers: life or death peril, blood, violence, sibling sarcasm

It was late Friday night, so late almost everybody with any sense would be asleep. Not me, nope... silly Rabbit let her reports pile up and is now playing catch up. I'm knee deep into yet another failed go at terminating 682 when it happens. Alarms, loud screams, flashing lights, crudely drawn vaguely naughty graffiti... yep. Chaos Insurgency Raid. They're late this month. I grab my weapons, and head out.

Normally, I'd just let the MTF guys deal with this, but... I must confess filling out endless reports made me want to be the cause of some for once. I hear the distinct sounds of a raiding party heading toward me from down the unending grey labyrinth, only for it to be cut off in horrific screaming and pleas for mercy. Maybe not that way... yet. Left it is.

I take off down the hall running, and see my first unwary target. The dumb bastard has his back to me, and is threatening 999. The poor goo boy is crying. I sneak up behind the bully and slap the back of his head. He turns around, only to be met by a blade to the throat. 999 squeaks in shock.

"Better go find a safe spot, Little Dude. These boys play too rough." Excited squeaks. "Six more ahead? Not good, but doable. Thanks. Now, go. You do not want to see this." I grab a gun from the dead goon, and press on.

Sure enough, a six pack of goon, trying to break open a door. I see the number, and... decide the occupant could use the company. After all, 682 is not Mister Popularity. The door opens, the goons go in, the door closes. I walk past, ready for almost anything. The last words I heard from the goons were pretty cliché for meeting the big undead scaly asshole.

"Oh, God... what is that thing?"

"Why won't it die? Why won't it die?"

The first real trouble I run into is an alert CI in the hallway 8 doors down. He opens fire, and I duck behind a wall. I shoot back, and know I hit my mark somewhere when i hear the scream.

"Demented little bitch! She shot me in the leg!" Another volley of gunfire. Another yell. "Fuck! I'm down. Proceed to target." Gunfire ceases, boots beat it down the hall. I chase. And run right into a dead end hall. But... not all hope is lost. No, I must have known where I'm going, as to my right, twenty meters ahead... is my new big brother's door. And... lucky me... plenty of cover to get there.

My luck ran out though, about the time I get there. There's a gun to my head, and the hand on it seems... twitchy. Time to take my lumps, fun's over.

"Stop, kid. I'm not saying it twice." I freeze, for a moment. "Open the door."

"That's... not an exit."

"Open it, or I shoot your pretty head off."

"For the record, I did warn you." I open the door, we step in. And... Big Brother is asleep. I can hear snoring from within his cube.

"He's... sleeping? We make enough noise to wake the dead, and 076-2 is still asleep?" Not for long. I take my chance like Big Brother taught me. I hit the idiot with a left hook, grab his gun, and get some distance between us. The CI rushes me, only for me to knock him on his ass with a headbutt. We fight for ten more minutes before anyone gains ground.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Shit. Big Brother is awake, and angry. The CI is stunned, just long enough for me to fling him face first into Abel's cube. A crunch, a groan, and he's out.

"The Chaos Insurgency decided to drop in. There's probably more wandering around here. Should probably put a stop to that, right?"

"I must agree, I do not care for these uninvited guests."

"Right. Grab your big sword then, we've got piles of bodies to create before we sleep."

We run into a group of ten trying to break into the Reality Warper Wing. Abel nods at me, I head right, he goes left. The whole fight took less than a minute.

"How many was that, Little Sister?"

"Five and five. But... counting the three I had to deal with earlier... I'm at 8."

"I've trained you less than a year, and you took out 8 of these fools?"

"Told you, I have a damn good teacher. We should see if there's more, give you a chance to catch up. Only fair, right?"

We check the rest of the hallway, a two person anomalous wrecking crew. There's a few stragglers, and Abel and I are soon even. We just get back to the main hall, and see a familiar and friendly to a degree face. It's Dr. Clef, shotgun in hand.

"Hey, uh... Rabbit? I know there's a raid going on, but what is 076-2 doing out?"

"Big Brother caught Little Sister dealing with a bully, and like a good brother, protected his Little Sister."

"Wait, what? Abel... Abel is your big brother?"

"We just dealt with the Chaos Insurgency, and that's the question you ask, Clef? Abel adopted me weeks ago."

"That's what I get for sleeping during staff meetings, I guess." Clef checks his cell phone. "That was the last of them. Back to your rooms, you two, or Uncle Alto will have to ground you."

Abel rolls his eyes. "Fine. But do not ever let me hear you say 'Uncle Alto' again."

"Agreed!"

[brumatifl]

it's his first time in this bakery , in particular , but he's heard that there are some amazing strawberry deserts from aomine's previous captain , and as such , he's here. the door jingles as he walks in , " i'm sorry -- are you open ? " he blinks slowly , as he zooms in on the strawberries , " wow, nijimura-san wasn't wrong , you do have a lot of strawberry deserts. which do you think is best ? " / from one sakurai ryou ur new bff

@peachmuses

it wasn't yuki's turn at the register today, she's in the back baking alongside the owner but it was ryou's luck that yuki walks out, a fresh batch of cookies in hand. she doesn't pay him any attention at first and begins stacking the cookies in their place before the familiar name of niji comes up. yuki looks at him for a second and is now sure he must be in a basketball team in some school, how else would he know niji?

"well," yuki says with a smile, dusting off her hands on her flour covered apron. "i like the strawberry shortbread cookies and the tart." and she points to each respectively. they hadn't made the cake today, and some recipes were still in the making but she's glad he seems impressed.

"and i just put out some freshly baked chocolate chips cookies, if you'd like some." and for a split second she wonders if she should even bring it up when she's called from the kitchen. "i have to go, but i hope you enjoy them. oh and tell niji that yuki says hi."

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 16

Wordcount: 4, 869 Rating: M for strong language, moderate sexual references, violence, and gore The reader is referred to as she/her. "God knows. Maybe you have a greater purpose to serve. Why else did he make you?" Chapter synopsis: And you never considered yourself trigger-happy. But the shots have been fired. They're dead before you can interrogate them. Allen is eager to convince you it was the right thing to do, but even he can't deny the horrors that will follow. The war rages on. Alfred stays ignorant for the meantime, and you revel in his bliss of it. You share one last peaceful night with him before the fearful unknown.

16 - Nothing breaks like a heart

The reader is referred to as she/her.

An ear-splitting bang echoed in the pool room. Blood and small chunks of flesh landed on the tiled floor in a splat. Tearing his hand away with a shaky gasp, he held the wrist and hunched over to writhe in agony. "Ergh... Fuck!" He spluttered, feeling a violent tremble seize his wounded hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He lifted his head to glare at you with the utmost betrayal. "What the hell did you do that for?!"

A sizely hole formed in his palm. The exposed flesh was still oozing out blood like a full sponge, dripping onto the ground in generous puddles. A whole section of his bone was missing. And you did it. You shot Alfred. You paled in horror for a few moments, but as he panted before you with tears streaming down his red and enflamed face, it became apparent that your guilt was unfounded.

"What I did that for? You aren't Alfred!" You exasperated, raising the gun shakily to point it between his fearful eyes. "You're a clone!"

A sour flavor was left in your mouth as you spat out the word. His origins were no mystery.

Nobody else could have been responsible or capable of such a heinous crime. To grow an abomination from whatever DNA was left in their lab. You only imagined them to be created for one purpose, and one purpose only. To torment, kill, and replace Alfred. As the thoughts raced through your head, you tightened your finger around the trigger—"Wait, wait! Don't shoot!" He begged, throwing his arms up.

"I know you're freaking out right now, but I have no idea what's going on either!"

Gritting your teeth at his excuse, you were determined to not let it get to you. But it was easier said than done. "Shut up! Don't think for a second you can fool me!" Despite the cutting conviction of your voice, you took on a terrified expression at the thought of shooting him. "I'm gonna do it. You're nothing but a freak of nature! And you'll never... Never..."

As you trailed off, you realized you indeed couldn't pull the trigger.

Not when the barrel was aimed at a face that looked just like Alfred's.

It was contorted with so much fear and despair, pleading silently for you to not hurt him. The fact that he was a spitting image of him made it even harder. How he moved, talked, acted—seeing it chipped away your resolve, leaving you all but paralyzed. The gun was left juddering furiously in your hands in light clacks, holding him hostage at the moment before death.

"Please. Please don't do it." He whispered, bringing his hands down to shield himself. "You gotta help me, (F/N). I don't know how, but I woke up in this body. That's... That's all that happened."

How painfully familiar it sounded.

I woke up in this body.

The similarities were so uncanny, it was cruel. Giving your head a quick shake, your lips quivered as you uttered this.

"You're lying. You're not real."

Creases formed between his brows. "I'm not lying! And I am real! I'll prove it to you, I swear! We went through so much shit together, like uh—" He pointed at you and laughed nervously as he sifted through the scanty archives of his memories. "—I kidnapped you. Ha! See? I know something! That's how we met! And you hated my guts at first."

You swallowed thickly as uncertainty slowly overwhelmed you. If he could remember that, he had to be real, right? No. You had to fend off the feeling. "That's not good enough!" Your finger stayed on the trigger, and the barrel, on him.

He tensed up as panic caught him in a chokehold. "Okay, okay! Well, er..." His heart was pounding harder and harder with every second he failed to say something. "... Oh! Remember the time I nearly got murdered by a cult leader? He had a whole kabuki mask get-up and everything—just like, like Professor Callaghan from Big Hero 6. You know that movie right?"

You sucked in a sharp breath. The title didn't ring any bells, but what he said had you second-guessing yourself. Was he not lying after all? Lowering the gun at that, your motion was slowed by slight hesitance. "... How... How do you know those things?" You asked faintly. "What are you?"

Before he could formulate an answer, footsteps thudded down the hall. Your thoughts came to a complete standstill.

Then, you heard a voice.

"(F/N)!" They shouted. Was it Allen? Your heart sank when you realized you couldn’t tell—it sounded too similar to Alfred. Or were you just imagining things? The sheer amount of panic was too incapacitating that you couldn't think.

So you did the unthinkable.

Raising the gun once more, you fired a shot into his abdomen.

The second you let the bullet fly, you regretted it.

Both your ears rang as the next few moments occurred in silence. And they would unfold in painstakingly slow motion. Dropping the gun to the ground in a soundless clatter, you watched him stumble back a few steps with his eyes popping out of his skull. Blood was spreading around the flaps of his kimono from a new hole in his chest. But the gore couldn't compare to his look of betrayal.

Of a heartbreak so deep, it destroyed you.

"Oh my God..." You raised both hands to your mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed on the ground in a bloody heap. "I just—I just killed—" Tears streamed relentlessly down to your chin as you stood frozen.

"(F/N)! I heard gunshots. What the fuck happened?!" Allen appeared in the doorway. His loud voice derailed your train of thoughts, forcing you to turn to the man. When you did, your heart clenched at the realization you made a mistake. It wasn't him. Alfred was never down the hall, and you panicked.

He never even had a chance to explain himself.

When Allen caught sight of the corpse by your feet, he dug his hands through his hair. Terror ran deep in his expression as he processed what he was seeing. "Shit, (F/N)." His nose scrunched up in shock. Never did he imagine the day would come where you would take someone's life. At least, not so soon.

But it arrived as an unwelcome surprise, unexpected and uninvited. "Did you kill that guy?"

You nodded profusely as a sob racked your body.

He scrambled over and shielded you from the grotesque scene. "Hey, hey, hey! Don’t feel bad! I’ve killed loads of people too, so welcome to the club!" The man rambled frantically, rubbing away your tears with his fingers. But who was he to tell you these things when he felt his own tears come?

"I’m sure he deserved it, and you were just protecting yourself, so don’t worry!" Allen forced a wide, manic smile.

His efforts to console you were in vain as you cried even harder. Pulling you into his chest, he rested his chin on your head that trembled to your coughs. "I'm so sorry..." Allen screwed his eyes shut and squeezed you tighter. "... I’m sorry I left you by yourself. This is my fault, not yours. It's my fault."

The string of apologies he spewed out was on your behalf, but he meant them with every fiber of his being. He had failed to protect the single most valuable thing to him.

And the blatant lie he forced you to accept was the last resort to preserve it. But it was time that stopped. "No, I killed him." You asserted shakily. He had nothing to do with this, and his eagerness to shoulder the blame only rubbed more salt into the wound. If you let him have his way, you would never live it down.

Without removing yourself from the hug, you pointed at the motionless body with your head turned away. "Look at him. I could never lie."

Allen lingered his gaze on you before obliging, albeit reluctantly. Nearing the corpse cautiously, he kicked its chest to roll it over. It revealed the dead man’s face in all its glory. Alfred’s face.

"..."

What the fuck.

When he thought he couldn’t be any more disgusted by the tyranny of technology, he was proved wrong yet again. This was clearly your father’s doing. And it was a declaration of war. But perhaps, it was just the continuation of the one that never ended.

Arthur was completely shit-faced downstairs. Slamming his beer mug down on the counter after he downed the whole thing, he gasped.

"Bwah! That hits the spot." His cheeks and ears were redder than a tomato, a stark contrast to his companion who was stone-cold sober.

Alfred raised a brow. "Sure looks like it. Dude, you gotta lay off the booze. You’re gonna regret it first thing tomorrow." Once he sighed that out, he rested his cheek on his hand. Then, he glowered at the hallway where you and Allen disappeared to.

"How long does it take to piss? They’ve been gone for ages. Twenty minutes? Thirty minutes? I don’t fucking know," The mechanic let out a low chuckle and slapped him on the back. The force made his torso bounce, much to his annoyance. "What’s your deal?"

The other hummed mischievously. "I was just thinking about what you said." Arthur squinted almost suggestively, causing Alfred to do the same, but only out of being appalled. "Maybe... Maybe they aren’t pissing. Since they’re gone for so long at the bathrooms at that—so maybe, urgh... They’re doing the nasty together." The Brit practically howled with laughter, having figured he was probably right.

It was a plausible assumption. As he humored the suggestion Alfred heated up more severely than his intoxicated friend. You having sex with Allen? His chest whirred and nostrils flared. He'd never been this enraged before, but behind the mask of anger was a deep hurt and toxic kind of jealousy.

"Shut up! You’re drunk and slurring your words. You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Arthur snorted. "Sorry to break it to you, brother. But the only time I’m this honest is when I’m drunk, so."

Alfred’s eyes went round. Without a moment’s hesitation, he shot out of his stool and made a beeline to the hall. Before he could make it far, he bumped right into the very subjects of his conversation. Much to his relief, they were in no state that indicated they did anything sexual by nature; you were in his arms and fast asleep. Not that he was happy about it. "Woah. She's out like a light."

"Yeah, so keep your voice down." The other grumbled, bouncing you lightly. "I think it's about time we head home. How drunk is he?"

The blonde blinked. He wasn't expecting him to catch on so quickly. "Off his ass. He's red as."

Allen clicked his tongue and brushed past him. "Called it." Alfred would have dismissed it as something he always did. But since he was carrying you, it made him feel like an extra. So when the man walked off, he followed with a scowl. "Can you get a cab? I'm gonna sit in the corner for a bit."

And sit in the corner he did, laying your body across his lap so you could rest. Alfred narrowed his eyes into a dark glare, lingering on the sight as the club music pounded away in his ears. And he told him to keep his voice down? "Yeah, I'll call you a damn cab."

You pretended to be asleep the whole ride back to Arthur's. It was easy with Allen's shoulder at a perfect height for your face to bury in. For half an hour, you were stuck in that position. There, you listened to the symphony of a trip home from the club: the automated voice of the taxi A.I and the drunken warbles of an intoxicated friend. Without seeing it, you could feel Alfred watching you for the whole duration of the ordeal.

Fortunately, you could escape any interaction with him as Allen carried you to the bathroom upon arriving.

"Oi, where are you taking her?"

The redhead kicked the door open. "What does it look like?"

"Shouldn't you wake her up, at least?"

"Yeah, yeah. Quit breathing down my neck, already."

"Dude—"

The door locked. Setting you down on your feet, you held onto his arms to regain your balance. Once you did, you glanced up at him with the utmost panic. "I can't face him." Digging two hands through your hair, you let out a shaky gasp—"Oh my god, I don't know what to do! I shot him, Allen. I fucking shot him! What's he gonna think of me when he finds out?"

He sighed and gripped your shoulders firmly. With his brows furrowed in a stern expression, he corrected you. "You didn't shoot him. You shot another version of him." Allen couldn't stress that enough. But there were many things he needed to shed a light on in this emergency bathroom meeting. "And it was kinda my fault that happened. If I was there, I woulda' shot him for you."

"That's not the point, here! And it's never gonna be your fault. It's mine, and mine alone. End of story." You swiped a hand across his face for emphasis. While he groaned in dismay, a brief pause followed as you regained your breath.

At least an hour had passed, but you still couldn't wrap your head around it.

"I can't believe I did that. I don't even know how I could! I panicked. I thought Alfred was coming down the hall, but—"

"—but it was me. Doll-" Allen exasperated, dragging out the pet name. "-you can't blame yourself for what you did. Shit happens. And who says what you did was wrong, huh? You probably just saved us all from a bloodbath. And you know that!" Rocking you gently back and forth to shake some sense into you, he leaned in to peer into your wide eyes staring into space.

"That's why you shot him. You did the right thing."

As he blurted that out, the memory replayed in your head again and again like a broken record. Intrusive thoughts were a bitch. And there was one particular detail of the event that you would never forget. "Was it the right thing to do, though?" You murmured, lowering your doubtful gaze to the tiled floor. The betrayal in his eyes was so genuine, you came to regret everything you've done.

"What if he was real like he said?"

You were asking some hard-hitting questions, that was for sure. Everything else was shrouded in a fog of uncertainty.

"Well, it wouldn't matter if he was real. Cuz' he's dead."

Allen's expression morphed into a dark glower.

"But if he was still alive, there'd be two of him, and not for long. They'd kill each other, for sure. I mean, if I found out there was a second-rate version of me farting around out there, I'd kill that poser for sport. Hunt him down like game." Lifting up your chin so you'd look at him, he flashed a grin.

"So don't feel bad. You killed him and saved Alfred the trouble."

Softening your gaze at that, you pulled him into another hug. Allen was always amazing at comforting you in the direst of situations.

"... Maybe you're right."

He chuckled and patted your back. "I'm always right."

But there was still one concern he could never address.

If your father made a clone of Alfred, a real and legitimate copy, there was no saying he could make another. Hell, you even expected him to. He could keep churning him out so long as he had his DNA. The only way to end this threat was quick to cross your mind, but you didn't want to think about it.

You would have to kill your father.

Allen figured. But today suffered enough bloodshed.

Before he left the bathroom for you to use, he held onto your cheek.

Flickering his striking scarlet eyes over your troubled expression, he caught you in a quiet gaze. You could easily translate the untold fondness he watched you with. We can still run away together.

He pulled away slowly, reluctantly. Then, the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It never crossed your mind the first time he brought it up earlier tonight, but you finally understood what he really meant by running away. Allen wanted to share his life with you. Heat flurried in your chest as you considered the idea.

Tears threatened to return once you realized how much you wanted to do it, just not with him. The desire was there, but it happened to be stronger for someone else.

Alfred had been waiting outside with his back against the wall, arms crossed with a frown. It only deepened when Allen walked out.

"What're you lookin' at?" The redhead mumbled.

"... Nothing. Just wondering why you two spend so much time in the bathroom together." Alfred pointed out, glancing down at the cigarette between his fingers. He would have been jumping for joy if it weren't for wanting to look serious. "What were you doing with her in the penthouse?"

The other felt a spell of irritation hit him. It was always jealousy with this one, wasn't it? But he couldn't be a hypocrite. "None a'ya business, bub." He hummed, slotting the cancer stick in between his teeth. A sly smirk widened his lips as he saw the blonde tense up. "You saw how tired she was. So don't even think about it."

Don't even think about it, he'd said. How come everything coming out of his mouth sounded like a euphemism for sex? Don't keep her up with stupid conversations would've sounded better. Alfred huffed and stormed back to the guest room. Or was it just his mind that was in the gutter? He blamed Arthur for even bringing it up.

Hanging his clothes on a chair, he curled up under the covers. His chest was whirring again, and the discomfort was akin to something you've gone through before. Separation anxiety. When you did show up ten minutes later, he rolled over to the door to watch your form. Hearing the fabric shuffle in your direction made your heart skip in panic.

He was awake.

"Arthur's puking his guts out, so if you hear coughing, it's him."

Hopefully, some light-hearted banter could keep you from acting up. But that was easier said than done.

The blanket lifted briefly so you could get under it. Once you got comfortable, he didn't hesitate to pull you in by the waist to spoon you. Ever since he saw you sleep in the club, and on Allen no less, he'd been dying to do this. "... I tried telling him." He murmured into your ear. "But I've slept through worse. You flop and roll a lot."

The feeling of his breath on your neck and the sound of his husky voice made your heart ache. Every night was spent like this, warm and snug in his arms, but tonight was different. Inside, you were still agonizing over what you had done to him, even if it wasn't exactly him. So to feel his chest rise against your back, then his legs rub against yours, you just couldn't take it—it was all too much.

Rolling over to him, you caught his neck in your arms and pulled it down for a tight squeeze. What you uttered next captured your deepest and most inexplicable desire. To truly be alone with him.

"I can't take it here anymore." You muttered furiously, hugging him around his neck to start crushing him.

He let out a shaky breath at the sudden pressure.

"Hey, hey, calm down. What's wrong?"

"I can't calm down. I need to talk to you. Alone." Sitting up at that, you pulled him along. It came especially easy as he stood up, eager to understand your spontaneity. "And in someplace that's not here. There's just... Too many people. Four is too many."

Alfred lit up, but his growing smile did his emotions no justice. He was ecstatic. Things were always simpler when it was just the two of you. Maybe you were finally getting sick of these cramped living conditions, the scrutiny. At least, he knew he was. So it was almost as if you read his mind. "Okaay. Are we going on a midnight adventure?" He piped.

But then again, you always seemed to be walking on the same wavelength as him.

He followed you around the room like a puppy as you collected some things—your jacket, then Alfred's phone to shoot Allen a text. We're off to the nearest no-tell motel to talk. We'll be back in the morning. Setting the device onto the desk, you threw him his belongings. His gun and trusty coil of tools. Catching them wordlessly, he shot you a quizzical look. "Well, aren't you mysterious? Where are we going?"

Little did he know, your decision to leave the house for the night had only so much to do with random selfish impulses. From the outside, it looked exactly like that. Up and going without a care in the world, without care for Allen, and becoming unreachable for the next several hours. But after what happened, you just needed time to recalibrate.

"Where we always used to go." You threw your jacket on. Dragging him out into the hall, he caught a brief glimpse of Arthur passed out over the toilet before he found himself in the garage.

Handing him his key, you opened the car door next to the driver's seat. "We have to be quick before Allen tries to stop us."

The said man was sitting on the roof when he heard the rumbling of the garage door. Immediately after the sound stopped, a car sped out of it with an aggressive vroom and disappeared into the night. Narrowing his eyes at the rear window, he stood up and tossed his cigarette over the edge. Where the hell were you going this late at night? And with Alfred, no less?

He could feel hot jealousy prick him all over again. But it was warped with a harrowing kind of sadness. No matter what he did or what he said, he couldn't seem to get in between you two. Allen sat back down and lit up another cigarette. Giving that a few puffs, he surrounded his head in a cloud of grey smoke. Maybe he did know you for too long.

For eight years, he'd been a brotherly figure in your life. Now, he was afraid that was all he was ever going to be.

~~~

Parking the car in the courtyard after the most thrilling joyride, you pulled Alfred into the reception to book a room. Given his inhumane strength, your efforts to drag him down the hall were to no avail. Peering down at you with a warm smile, his face contorted with an amused look as you tugged at his arm as hard as you could. "Easy there, tiger. This is a motel, not a five-star hotel."

Between two walls littered with cracks was a dimly lit interior. Everything smelt like vomit, piss, and alcohol to boot, and yet, you were bounding beside him in excitement. "I know! But doesn't this feel nostalgic? We lived in these places for ages." You exasperated, scanning a keycard to unlock the door.

Alfred didn't think he was a sentimental person, but hearing you reminisce the past so fondly was enough to change his smile into a bittersweet one. "I guess." He couldn’t remember everything like you, but for now, he could pretend he did. "Motels are economic and discrete, so where was a better place to go?"

Once you both got inside, he felt your hand let go of his. For a moment, he felt just the smallest dash of loneliness—it was the emptiness of not feeling you somewhere where you should have been. Fortunately, it faded when you gleamed at him while you explored the room with child-like curiosity.

"I think I did a pretty good job at converting you." Alfred mused.

You flopped onto the bed to lie on your back. "Converting me to what?"

The mattress dipped to your right, so you rolled over to face him. "To a commoner. Or maybe something lower than that." He grinned devilishly. And for that comment, he would earn a strong shove on his chest. Despite nearly falling off the edge, he merely scooted back in. "I've never seen someone this happy staying in a dump like this."

"Don't give yourself too much credit. I just miss it." Pausing briefly at that, a small smile spread to your lips when you saw his, wide and as endearing as ever. If there was one thing you wanted to see before you died, it was this. Alfred's warm smile. As you lingered on the thought, you realized you were completely smitten with him.

But most importantly, at peace.

This was exactly why you even dragged him here in the first place. For some quality alone time, backtracking, and a good, long talk without interruptions. "I'd know all about dumps." You murmured, reaching out to play with a lock of his sandy blonde hair. "Zao and I tend to find our best friends in them."

He chuckled airily. "Is this me?"

"... Well, sure. But I was talking about Allen."

Things got dark pretty fast.

You both laughed it off. He didn't have great memories of motels, but laying here with you reminded him of what you said about them. A lot of good things happened in these tiny rooms, apparently. And they were what you two talked about until three AM in the morning, standing together out on the balcony. From here, the heart of the city could be seen, from the aerial roads of spinners in the distance to the endless hills of skyscrapers and blinking lights.

"I was thinking," Alfred murmured quietly, turning his head to you. The right side of his face reflected the glow of the city. But it couldn't quite compare to the hope that lit up his eyes, as subtle as it was. "Is everything finally over?"

You turned to him, gaze softened. For just tonight, you would let him bask in his ignorance. And yourself, in his hold. "Not yet." You whispered. The feeling of his hand on your waist was a feeling you could get used to. Reaching out to his other one on the railing, you guided it to your side so he could hold you properly.

Alfred squeezed you eagerly, pressing closer to your body.

Taking his face into your hands, you gave him one last gesture of untold affection. It was a culmination of raw emotion free from your own better judgment. A means to communicate without talking.

You pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

At that very space in time, a singular thought occurred to both of you—I wish this moment would last forever.

"But we'll make it... Just like we always do."

|

What would you do if I killed you?

Nothing, because I'd be dead.

What if you survived? Or left behind a soul?

Then I'll come back and find you.

|

The club was still pounding away, much like the headache in his skull. Sucking in a sharp breath, he suffered the worst wake-up call in his short life—he was still bleeding, and in terrible pain. He shakily felt around his wound while hyperventilating on the ground. How he hadn't kicked the bucket yet was beyond him.

"Get your ass up already. I know you're not dead." A man growled in disdain, giving the body on the ground a light kick.

"Gh—!" He let out a pained gasp and clung onto the ground for dear life. It had been years since he felt this alive—ironically, it was when he was inches away from death.

His perpetrator had their dark eyes fixated on him like a stain on the floor. Their pupils were as red as the blood his victim bathed in. But they always had a strong stomach for gore. "What am I gonna say when the owner finds out I'm the reason you even got in here? You're bleeding into the pool." They murmured, raising his leg to keep tormenting the other like a new hobby.

With a few more kicks, the body rolled onto its back.

"Ugh... Fuck... How am I not dead?" He coughed in agony.

The other shrugged, flicking their ponytail over their shoulder. "God knows. Maybe you have a greater purpose to serve." As cryptic as that sounded, it was nothing but the truth. He had more to his life than dying in a nightclub. Dying could be a part of it, but this couldn't be the location to do it, nor could it be by your hand—the closest kin to his creator.

"Why else did he make you?"

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Soap and France joins Alexandra Ryder, an INTERPOL Agent tasked to eliminate all pieces of EMP-based weaponry as they investigate one of Berlin's cell towers for a possible source of a planned wide scale EMP blast. Will the team capture Augustus?

Chapter 11 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : The Heart Knows what the Mind doesn't

“The Berlin Tower”

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

Task Force 141 with INTERPOL

Berlin, Germany

Soap was kinda bummed that this isn’t a Nero case and that Ghost and Roach got to tag along with Captain Price on a possible lead. But he had to do what was instructed of him, it was a low chance for Augustus to be in this tower but he and France are on a joint operation with INTERPOL to disable the planted attachment on this tower. It’s for a great cause.

He nodded to Agent Ryder as she signaled them both to advance, he smirked slightly at France’s sight as she looked horrible at that camo paint. He noted to himself to tell her that as soon as this mission is over.

“Remember Sargeant, remind us about signs of Augustus and we’ll get there ASAP.” Soap remembered Shepherd’s words that will be his objective for this mission. He followed France and guarded her Six, secretly admiring her figure while he did it. He may show hostility toward the female soldier, but he kinda admires her determination, her attitude towards work and her face in general. He may be against relationships while on the job but he considered asking her out after all of this was over, with less EMP blasts would be better.

“Soap! Advance now! Can you hear me?” France hinted at him over comms as he quickly responded and moved to the next position. The huge iron tower loomed before the squad as they scaled the treacherous cliffside.

“Ryder, what’s the situation over there?” the pilot asked.

“Looks like illegal settlers found themselves a home at the base of the tower. We’ll be watching you from down here.” she replied, France caught a glance of Soap and they nodded to each other reminding themselves to be wary of Augustus.

Soap eyed his scope toward the settlement camp as the helo ascended up the tower, he noticed that they were detaching the houses of their roofs, revealing a missile-like structure.

“SAM!” Soap yelled over comms but he was too late. Rockets ejected from the machine and headed straight for the helo. The pilot fired a flare, deflecting the first wave of missiles but another one quickly followed, sending them to spin out of control.

The settlers followed the helicopter as it crashed down the cliff, making sure that no one escaped to tell the tale of the tower’s secret. This was their time to move, the unexpected diversion they created actually turned the battle into their favor.

"All teams advised to proceed with caution." Alexandra informed as the small group proceeded to rustle the leaves and advanced to the base of the tower.

"Doesn't this thing have elevators? Who in the world would think stairs would be appropriate here?" an agent complained upon seeing the spiraling steps of the tower.

"Let's split." Alexandra instructed.

"We circle back to the other side and plant c4 charges on the SAM sites on the far end of the settlement. Everyone nodded and the team's demolitions expert provided them c4 charges.

Soap carefully kept his while France continued to support Agent Ryder. This also splits the two 141 members in case Augustus is on the other half of the settlement. He nodded France a 'see you soon' gesture as the rest of the team parted ways and proceeded to objective.

Soap carefully crept across the small entrance of the village, eyeing his sights on the critical corners of the area. He knew most of the people inside investigated the chopper crash and that leaves their base wide open for a surprise attack. He continued hugging the thin walls of the settlement, signaling the rest of the small squad to cover each other.

The other team split up as they entered the base, taking care of the other side of their half.

It was too quiet. No weapons were being fired, could it be that the base is really empty?

"What's everyone's sitrep? Over." Alexandra whispered softly over comms.

"It's too quiet." Soap replied.

"Stay frosty." She replied. Soap signaled the two other agents to cover for him as he entered the house which housed one of the four SAM turrets.

"C4 is planted." he announced. Everyone else seemed to plant theirs as well.

"Let's regroup and detonate. I'm already seeing them fleeing back here."

"Rog." everyone else noted and stepped to objective. Then a single shot was fired, hitting one of Soap's team on the shoulder.

"Get down!" He roared as they looked for cover, and just like that, the team's cover was already blown and reinforcements were already on their way back from the crash.

"They're closing in. It's too critical! Try to stay away from the turrets! We'll have to detonate from danger close and extract!" Alexandra ordered over comms. Soap was too busy shooting tangos but they just kept on surrounding them.

The ground shook violently as one of the cornet SAM sites exploded, crippling the enemies which provided Soap a small window of opportunity to move away from the turret and shoot the nearby enemies.

"Let's push forward!" He commanded. It was a matter of life and death as the forces surrounding them began to regroup.

"None of our troops from the blast site are responding!" Ryder yelled desperately, the hope in her voice started to fade.

"Shit! We're doing a danger close detonation grab onto something!" The second quadrant team yelled as another explosion shook the ground. Instead of moving forward, Soap's team actually fell back as the large wave started to surround them, pressuring the team not to detonate the remaining two SAMs.

"We're surrounded by a helluva lot of tangos Ryder. You have to detonate the closest one to you so the bird can extract! We'll make a run for it." Soap yelled at the team leader.

"Shit! France, cover me while I make a run for it." Ryder yelled over comms. A few seconds later the third SAM site exploded, leaving Soap's SAM the only one left.

The blast's heat crawled through MacTavish's skin as he took one step back firing enemies conservatively. He threw his rifle straight at the closing enemy's head and switched to his sidearm. He took another step back and he already felt the warm surface of the humming SAM turret, looking up at the sky, ready to assault any flying object it sees. If only he could get his team so move at a safe distance away from it and finally click his detonator.

He peeked through the opening to check on his team, one already fell flat on the ground while the other one was taking heavy fire.

"Shit." he cursed and quickly hid his head as bullets started ricocheting toward him. He took a quick peek at his inventory and did the math. If he played his cards right, he had a slim chance of saving the other ally and actually making it out alive.

He took another peek and started his plan, but all that's left of his remaining ally was a lying dead body on a pool of crimson colored liquid. He was now alone. Mission Impossible.

He hid back and inhaled. He was running out of hope, he wanted to make it out alive. He wanted to ask France out for a date. He still wanted to see tomorrow's sunrise.

Soap desperately grabbed his trusty sidearm and shot each approaching enemy. One bullet per person meant he could fend off at least 48 of them, assuming he hits everyone in the head. His teammates were nowhere to be found and the rescue helicopter was already whirring at the distance.

Ryder and what's left of her team were slowly gathering by the extraction zone while Soap was still stuck in a pinch. It looked like the enemies didn't care about them and focused their attention on the remaining Scotsman. Strength in Numbers.

Overpowered and quickly running out of bullets, Soap ran for it, staying low on the ground, blindly evading flying bullets and clicking his detonator. He hoped to use the blast as a boost to further push him to France's direction but the way his body bent blew him sideways, toward the center of the base. Soap's body slammed against the makeshift walls as he rolled to the ground rendering him almost unconscious.

He coughed and struggled to get up, limping toward a safe wall, leaning against the soft walls, and gasping for air.

"It's no use, France. We can't stay here any longer. We have to ascend." Ryder advised as Soap struggled to get up, his vision blurred and his ears rang.

Soap wanted to talk but his hands were too injured to press the button, he rolled his eyes and scanned the area. His teammates were already gone, and he felt blood trickled against his cheek, while his mouth tasted like iron. With the last bit of strength he showed his game face and pointed his gun while his arms trembled from exhaustion.

"Last seven bullets. So this is how it ends." he chuckled, trying to make the situation a lot less depressing.

"One." he fired, the tango was close enough that he actually got pushed back on impact.

"Two." he fired, making an approaching tango cripple and fall.

"Three." he shot but missed, clicking his tongue.

"Four. Finally" he exhaled, squaring the target straight through the head.

"Fi-" he got kicked, causing him to drop the sidearm as he rolled to the ground.

"John! Noooo!" France's voice filled comms. Soap tried to reach his hand to the flying helicopter with the last of his strength, but it was no use. He couldn't move his leg or roll his body due to the stomps he kept getting. His vision slowly faded and the last thing he heard was France sobbing through comms.

Next Chapter : Uninvited Guests

Notification Squad my beloved

@beemybee @enderio @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @ricinbach @whimsywispsblog

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Back at the base, the team desperately hopes to find MacTavish but is surprised by uninvited guests.

Chapter 12 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : The Berlin Tower

Uninvited Guests

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141 

Task Force 141 Base - Infirmary

It's been 18 hours since the heartbreaking news, everyone already lost hope but a few comrades still clung on a little string of possibility.

The nurse guided Gary's left arm and slung it over his shoulders and told him he was good to go. He got his injuries assisting INTERPOL in Paris, along with Ghost in hopes of finding Augutus. Gary initially handled the situation but one bad sidestep caused him to fall on his arm, and good thing it's only considered minor damage.

But enough of him, he thought to himself. He had to address the elephant in the room. John 'Soap' MacTavish was M.I.A.

When Ryder's team got back from Berlin, France's face was plastered with despair, she held back tears all throughout the ride and ran to Gary as soon as they cleared their report.

Gary helped being a sponge to absorb her sadness and a shoulder to cry on, France is really a tough lass, but she opened up on how Soap not making it home felt a different level of hurt. Gary assumed she already got attached to the guy, but kept it to himself, especially that Simon was with them helping her cope up with her burst of emotions.

"I should've…" she sobbed. Gary rubbed her back and empathized with her, as they coped up with the loss of a comrade.

"He survived." Gary spoke, Ghost and France looked at him, their faces looked puzzled but hopeful at the same time. France couldn't help but hug the determined soldier as Ghost agreed in the background. They should put their faith on him, Soap will survive.

"Come on now. Show us that smile." Ghost nudged, making France smile a little and wiped off her tears. She was too lucky to be teammates with them and they were there when she needed them the most.

The wholesome moment stopped as soon as soldiers in battle gear jogged across the hall, one soldier opened the infirmary door and yelled.

"We're under attack! Grab these and help us defend against the intruders!" he said, tossing assault rifles to the soldiers. Ghost caught them and immediately checked his gun. Gary held his on one hand, it could work but he has to account for the recoil.

"Under attack? By who?" Gary asked as they shuffled to exit the infirmary. 

"Guess we'll find out." Ghost said as they followed the wave of soldiers exiting the building. Above them, the clear blue sky was filled with small dots that gradually grew huge, they parachuted from the sky down to the forest near the base.

"No bloody way." Ghost said as a loud sniper fire ringed their ears making them look toward the source.

"Let's get a move on! Defensive stances everyone. Don't let them get our HVI's! Hold until they're safely extracted!" Captain Price yelled, firing another bullet, hitting falling parachuters dead before they even touched the ground.

The trio immediately ran to the weapons cache and equipped their gear, positioning themselves for an all out attack. Gary's heart raced, this wasn't what he expected to happen here at the 141, but here they were.

"Careful out there." Simon told the two as they nodded in unison. His sniper skills were needed to significantly reduce their defenses. Gary winced in pain as he threw his sling away, holding the gun with two hands, trying not to mind the pain from his broken arm. There was no room for error, he must make his every bullet count.

"141, this is Alex. Our HVIs are safe inside the bunker. Extraction team ETA is in 30 minutes." Alex muttered over the comms. 

"First wave of tangos spotted emerging from the trees!" One of the soldiers reported. The comms continued informing everyone else about the situation requesting back ups and reporting sightings. Roach and France set themselves on the front of the base overlooking the river. The same exact place where he saw Soap and Price sneak out to smoke cigars.

"This place…" France muttered.

"It gives a perfect view of what's beyond the river. That's where the extraction team's going to land." Gary noted, noticing France's change in expression. Something about this place must've bothered her. And Gary stayed alert on his surroundings.

"Sightings on the East." one soldier noted behind the noise of the gunfire. Gary and France crept slowly, looking for a place to cover a wider angle. 

"Is no one going to assist us here?" France asked unaware that she broadcasted her question which was supposed to be only for Roach.

"From the looks of it, none. Looks like Nero's already starting his first move." Captain Price replied.

"141, this is General Shepherd. Looks like our friend's ready to face us head on. Secure our HVIs to safety, I've got bigger fish to fry as he's starting an assault on New York." he interjected, leaving command to the British Captain. 

"So it begins, huh?" Gary muttered.

"All right lads and lassies, you heard the big guy. Defend and retreat." Price stated, as everyone else nodded in agreement.

~

The initial onslaught was quite tolerable. None of the invaders made it out near the gates as snipers already crippled half of the defenses. Despite the enemies being known for their usage of EMP-based weaponry, the comms and radars were still working fine. Maybe it was too heavy to carry all the way to the UK.

The force almost felt confident that they'll make it, the airdrop already stopped and most troops are probably in the forest, regrouping and prepared for something bigger. That's where Gary's group comes in.

Their tiny group is to recon any activity inside their drop zone. France reported that almost half of the parachutes were decoy dummies and most of those who made it out of the forest were the only real ones. 

Static filled their ears while France was reporting and they braced themselves for what's going to happen next. 

Raising his rifle, Gary once again winced and endured the pain of his supporting arm and tracked down his sights. He didn't see anything but his gut was telling him something sinister is going to unfold very soon.

The ringing grew louder until he's forced to take off his earpiece, as he slowly crept into the forest and stayed alert for any movement. The team splitted up earlier to get a wider coverage for recon, so shooting at sight is not advised. Gary knew a clearing was going to be there on the far end of the forest and theorized that it's the place the remaining soldiers would most likely regroup.

He circled around and hid behind the tree as he heard clanking metal and busy shuffling by the clearing. His heart sped up as he peeked half of his head to the clearing and saw about five people working on assembling something, three armed people circling around three of his comrades who were bound and silenced. That meant that he was alone.

The assemblers happily cackled as they built their machine. That was their plan. Mannequins or decoys carried the parts while some of the assemblers and defenders were mixed along with the drop so they could sneakily create an EMP machine without suspicion. Nero's one smart son of a bitch.

A full magazine. Gary noted as he checked his weapon. It isn't suppressed and he's worried some defenders are still creeping into the jungle. He's glad the three aren't killed yet, for reasons unknown to him.

One of the assemblers approached the defender, saying something. Gary couldn't make it out but his body language says distress.

"One of.. the pieces are missing… Look for them near your base… we'll be behind you watching your every move. Do something else and we will shoot you, and once these guys hear a gunshot, your friends will say goodbye. Not returning in five minutes and I'll also shoot these two and they do the same to you" he said loudly, Gary gulped as France nodded, guns pointed at her were used to push her forward as they searched the forest for the missing piece.

Two guards were with her, a silent takedown meant that one will still be able to hear him and could fire his gun, and the clearing was too open for him to sneak in and kill the remaining guard. Gary pondered about his choices, he could look for the missing piece and stall them but the five minute timer would be the second problem.

The machine menacingly hummed and Gary's earpiece still isn't working. He needed help and hoped that reinforcements would arrive just in time for the five minute mark.

"Uninvited Guests"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 Base - Rooftop

Ever since Roach's squad stepped into the forest for some recon, they fell silent. Price tried to contact them multiple times but they didn't reply. Simon's hunch is that there may be an EMP machine with them, but he knew full well that only humans dropped from that excuse of an air assault.

His eyes scanned the vast greenery, looking at rustling leaves, flying birds and crawling animals, wishing that the next set of movements were from the recon team. 

Or France's…

Simon liked her determination since day one, he wanted to tell her a lot of things but she's always preoccupied and never had the chance to talk to her alone. Sometimes he wished he was the one that caught that blast so that they could bond together by the infirmary. It's almost sad to think that he wanted that. Gary already told him multiple times to actually express what he felt, but that just doesn't go that way. It's easier said than done. What hurts more is that she looked awfully devastated at Soap being M.I.A. the kind of sadness you feel when you lost someone you loved and he was sure that she loved him more than that of a friend.

Leaves rustled by the forest and France emerged from it. She was weaponless and her face looked troubled, she looked scared. 

"You seeing this, Sir?" he muttered to his Captain.

"Aye. Hold still, looks like she's on a situation down there." Price replied. France's hands signaled hold fire, she almost predicted that the team might locate someone behind her and took the initiative of warning them. She picked up a piece of metal on the ground and slowly proceeded back to the forest.

"Bollocks! She looked like she's in trouble. Go assist her, Ghost." Price ordered and Ghost immediately went down the rooftops, switching his gear to stealth mode and dashed through the forest.

"ETA in 15… tes…" static crackled across his earpiece, making him remove the equipment and proceed with caution. That's why they weren't responding, the whole forest is actually jammed. That meant that the piece of metal is part of the machine. He must get it before it's too late, his mind started to lose focus and worry about France, so he ran, he ran far enough that he saw movement by a large tree near the clearing. He aimed his sights and crouched, aiming the person's head.

That head… it was Roach's. He was safe.

Simon slowly crept and went to Roach's aid. He was fine but he looked lost in thought.

"Roach, you okay?" he asked. Roach looked at his watch. 

"Thirty More seconds and they're dead." he whispered as noise filled the clearing once again, making the two peek.

"Wow. Just in time!" he clapped and tied France back to her group. The machine was complete and the assemblers quickly finished their job.

"There we go. All complete." he pointed his gun at the three, as Ghost angrily gripped his weapon.

"Thank you for your service." The man muttered and laughed, his head immediately burst before he could make the shot.

Everyone shuffled and the assemblers panicked, Roach fired the other runners while Ghost finished off the rest of the armed enemies.

"Let's get out of here, now!" Roach quickly untangled the rest of his team as they made a run for it, away from the machine as possible.

Midway through the jungle a huge pulse of air pushed them as the machine emitted a loud ring, making them kneel and cover their ears.

Their comms were down. They had no idea what's going to happen next. When extraction will arrive, are the two HVIs still safe. All of those questions will remain unanswered until communication is restored or they could confirm it by seeing for themselves.

Next Chapter : Alex and Augustus

Notification Squad my beloved

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