#wee woo wee woo here comes the whump train

[spectralarchers]

3 and 5 Soapghost whump

“I thought you’d abandoned me.” + “You should have left me there.”

//

(under a readmore because it got a bit long <3)

It's been three days. Three days in the rubble, three days trying to pace himself with the little water he's got left. It probably won't matter in the end, whether he manages to get the water to last three, four or five days. He'll be dead within the week either way.

If not due to dehydration, then due to sepsis. The bullet wound in his abdomen looks like shit. He hasn't managed to pry the bullet out of it - he passed out when he tried, then realized his fingers were filled with dirt, oil and more - and the medical kit was destroyed in the firefight.

Ghost doesn't like his chances, but it's better to go out like this, he guesses. Better to go out like this. It gives him time to think back to everything he's achieved. His team. Price. Gaz. Nikolai, Alex. Hell, even the others, Gromsko, König, Horangi - they'll do great without him.

Soap, too. Soap would be a great team leader too. Ghost had taken this one covertly, one man in, one man out. Easier access. Just a quick disposal, and he would've been on the evac out. Intel had been wrong - he'd met resistance, been shot. Then the building had collapsed in on itself, trapping him in the rubble. There's enough room to wiggle and to move, but he can't dig himself out. He's tried. He may be built like a brick and a giant, he can't move the blocks of concrete keeping him from the blue sky he imagines above.

And, with how the bullet wound looks now... It's a matter of counting down the right way. Thinking back to the moments they'd all talked about - when this was all done, he'd go back home to Manchester. Maybe even visit Scotland with Soap, see his family. Make sure König saw that therapist they always teased him about.

But, it looks bad. He removed the mask two days ago, there's no need to hide his face down here. He falls asleep clutching the bottle of water, a gun in his other hand, in case someone shows up to finish him off. Or worse.

Waking up with a jolt at the sound of voices - speaking English - Simon Riley shakes himself into consciousness, although the effort taxes him. He's on his last reserves. The mic crackles to life as well, but it's static. Lifting his finger to press the button to call out, he switches the channel.

"This is 7-1, calling. Bravo 0-7, how copy?"

Chuckling, Ghost smiles. Johnny. He presses the button. "I thought you'd abandonned me," he croaks into the mike. Immediately, Soap's response comes through.

"Ghost! You're alive- stay put, we're getting to you, okay?"

"You should've left me here, Johnny. There's insurgents- the intel, it was wrong," he says, voice hoarse, feeble. "You'll get killed if you stay-"

"Shut up, Lt, we're coming to get you. Insurgents have been taken care of."

"That's the best news I've heard all day," Ghost adds, before he feels his vision swimming. The energy left in him is drained. They're right on the other side. But he can't stay awake. He just needs to close his eyes.

Just for five minutes.