Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fingertips grasped desperately at cool metal, polished nails scratching and pushing at the dainty trinket in hand. She paused, the task eliciting a frustrated groan, the silver earring remained unclasped as it hung precariously from her lobe.

“Work with me here-“ Exasperated she pled, glaring down at her reflection and challenging the small hoop to object against her will once more. She hovered closer, long gown shifting with her movement, the obsidian colour swallowing what little light was afforded from the bathroom light that hung low overhead, flickering out a hazily. Click.

“Aha!” Success. She righted herself with a smug clap, hands now free to find themselves clasping her drink, the sharp sting of cheap vodka soaked her nerves, the pre-drinks before pre-drinks. The battle drum beat from her small speaker, songs of the early 2000s. War painted a glossy red as she smacked her lips together, examining her reflection again. For once, a feeling of renewed confidence, perhaps the pre-pre-drinks were doing their job, maybe it was the makeup she had perfected hours before, or the weeks spent picking out the dress. Final touches now, skin dampened with an onslaught of perfume, bullets of jasmine and vanilla raining down upon her. 

Not quite Bambi, she faired better than the girl ahead as she watched the other plummet down from the bus as her heels succumbed to the soggy grass below. Lilith clutched at the side rail, narrowly rolling her eyes at the shouts and cheers of the students around her, amused at the woman who now sported a muddy pink attire. “Anna!” Steadily, heel-toe, heel-toe, she escaped the coach and descended intact. Knees bent awkwardly, dress gathered in one hand, she hobbled over to her friend with a grimace at each step, desperate not to ruin her appearance.

“What a fucking disaster.” Anna had squandered the angelic, yet respectable look she was working towards, brown smeared along her knees and hands from the fall.

“Oh Christ Anna, I don’t even have wet wipes on me.” The pair looked at one another and a moment passed before Lilith began to chuckle, only spurring the other into further despair.

“Don’t you dare laugh! Lilly, Lil, light of my life-“ Anna reached out, threatening her friend with a muddy paw, wiggling fingers coming dangerously close. Lilith veered away, heels puncturing the soggy marsh as she avoided certain doom.

“I can’t believe it rained this hard.”

“I can’t believe we are now forced to clamber through mud.” Huffing out complaints the pair began the walk towards the amassing crowds of well-dressed attendees, faces merged together as most looked alike, clad in well-ironed suits and dresses. Most were students, the tickets sold like hotcakes when the Universities advertised all the pomp and fuss as networking. Everyone desperate for something, eager to rub shoulders with those well above their station.

Jockeys lead their prize animals around the course, the loud drone of excited chatter drowned out the ‘tasteful’ music which blasted from overhead speakers, wait staff slid and skated on flat shoes as they toppled into the ground carrying empty glasses. Groups seemed to clutch onto one another, a huge wave of nervously-legged people as they bobbed and swayed awkwardly to the low drone of sound, eyes darting around for some sort of stimuli.

Jealousy. If you gazed closely at the dark-haired girl you could catch a glimpse of it in her wondering orbs as they dragged over the swaying bodies, free of care, dancing to the music as it flowed with them. Lilith liked to dance, in fact, the woman moved unhindered in her room, the only place of peace. Solitude was where the mask was hung up, besides the door as she sauntered inside, crashing down in fatigue and finally allowing herself to be undone. Perfection was, unpolished. It shined in stadium flood lights as it stood watching the rest, it led thoughtless individuals with prowess, yet it was scuffed- a little red around the eyes, a little lonely in the room. Perfection was just not perfect.

“You have to come toilet with me Lil, help is needed” Anna stumbled once more, brashly clinging to a passing waiter in an attempt to steady herself. “Oh god! Stay still- I’m so sorry-“ They both wobbled for a tense second before the two settled. “So, so sorry, do you know where the toilets are? Lost property even?”

The man breathed a strained chuckle before pointing out the way, turning to leave before he hesitated, head ducking down as he lowered his voice. “The V.I.P toilets have tonnes of better stuff, to well...” His eyes drifted down to Anna’s dress, imparting with a look of pity. “Clean up.”

“V.I.P?”

“Yeah, the big marquee, all the important people are there anyhow, even got wooden flooring down for em.’” 

“All the very important people in the very important section huh?” Lilith chimed, rolling her eyes incredulously before grasping onto her gremlin's wrist and turning to trudge through the mud, sights set on getting onto hard floor.

“Thank you!” Anna yelled back towards the waiter as she let herself be dragged away. 

After laying down some pretty hefty lies, the two scuttled past the bristling bourgeoisie of the hardwood floor, so privileged to be on solid ground, and tottered into an attached building. Shoving past the lady's queue with a flurry of apologies, ending up safe within a stall. 

“Now what!” Anna fretted, thumbing through all the lavender soap and moisturiser placed front and centre for the guests. 

“From rags to riches, to rags ... We'll fix it somehow” Lilith carefully attempted to wipe away the smears of brown, trying to preserve her own cleanliness all the whilst helping her friend. The stain refused to lift, the dress undoubtedly soiled. “My only solution is that we cut the dress, the hem will be fucked but it's either that or mud” Her finger drew across the suggested length, long nail skimming above Anna’s knee. 

“That’s not a totally terrible idea, no scissors though.” Anna shut the toilet lid before she flopped down onto the seat, haplessly peering up at Lilly. 

“There’s got to be a kitchen round’ here, or a staff room- someone will have scissors, stay here- I’ll look.” 

Navigating further than V.I.P toilets and club lounges, past signs clearly marked ‘No guests beyond this point’, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the building. The thrum of music and chatter faded behind her, the sharp sound of heels clipping against tile now echoed down the hall, it seemed far calmer than what was erupting outside, not even the occasional hurried staff member. She kept close to the wall, eyes fixated on the doors passing by, all closed and unmarked until-

Cleaning Supplies. 

It would do. 

Lights blinked to light as she barged in, immediately scanning the shelves for something sharp. Searching fingers drummed against the metal frame, tapping on bottles of bleach and lavender-scented bathroom cleaner. 

“Everything lavender.” Bemused, the quiet air stilled around her as something seemed to rattle outside. She stilled, a furious eruption of movement threw bone-chilling cracks and thumps into the air, something, or someone was struggling. Pushing herself further into the small room, fear began to rise, the unknown slamming against the door and rattling it from its hinges, she tucked herself away in response, behind a rack of mops and fluffy dusters, peering out from behind multicoloured feathers. 

Another loud crash echoed before the pitched voice of a man spoke from the hallway, accompanied by a garbled noise, and the door handle began to turn. She clung to her purse, digging into the fabric to find her phone, clutching the device closer, preparing herself. 

The entrance to the lavender-scented cell swung ajar, she brought a hand against her mouth, shaking digits pressed back a whimper, smearing lipgloss in the process. 

Stranger, dragging in a hulking body with great effort, deep huffs and pants as he let its arms flop down, the lifeless-looking body laid to rest in a supply closet. He left, door shut and she remained in her place, breath hitched in her throat, for a moment, corpse and woman were alike. Footsteps led away, Lilith crashed to the floor, hands grasping at the masked man beneath her, red lipgloss on her digits now mixing with the hot blood pumping from his being. 

“Oh my god.” Were they dead? It was hard to tell. Thick black vest strapped to their chest, black balaclava covered their face, skull sewed in. The shock was palpable, on otherwise unmoving features, her wide eyes scrambled to take in the severity of the situation. It felt unreal, fingers slick with blood, they struggled to tug at the fabric, shakily pulling off the mask and checking for a pulse. It wasn’t like she would have known what else to do, on her knees cradling the man, fingers soon leaving his neck to push down onto the gaping wound just above his clavicle, sappy red gushing and gushing through her tentative hold. 

“Ghost, how copy?” The radio on his vest crackled through the silence. 

Chapter Text

The sterile nature of the supply closet felt incredibly cold compared to the warmth of the man's blood. The maroon moved like it wanted to be free of its vessel, desperate to claw and flush out of his system as it bubbled and gushed, throwing itself messily from the confines of his body. Freedom, it longed solemnly, soaking whatever it could come into contact with, it begged to be taken away. Untrained she pushed, fought with the viscus liquid and tried to reason with it as she applied pressure to his wound. 

Stay. She implored, wide-eyed and staring down at the blonde stranger, willing his blood back into his body. 

“Ghost, what’s your sitrep?” The radio crackled to life once more, her gaze darted down to it, drawn to the static, it had more life than the man beneath her. 

“Ghost, this is Price, acknowledge sitrep, over.” 

Demanding, the tone thundered a volt up her spine, body alive with a tingling sense of fate that cut through the shock. One hand pressed harder on his wound, the other desperately punched down at her phone, clicking the button repeatedly until Emergency SOS appeared, the bright red button a slither of hope. Slick finger squashed against the screen, once, twice, a third time and-

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” The blood smeared against the glass, each attempt dirtying the display further as it failed to slide the small icon over, fate seemingly laughing through the screen as the button shimmered once more, glaring up at her with a desolate sheen. 

“Ghost, acknowledge sitrep ASAP.” 

It jolts her again, the grainy barking over the radio, pushing her to action. Now thumbing at the device strapped to his chest she rips it from its confines, messily pushing buttons and turning dials, the static eases and hope begins to fade as once again, silence. Moments, seconds, they seemed to still, the feeling of running in water, constant pressure surrounding her. 

Heels abandoned, a bloodied mess she pools into the hallway, spreading the news with each step she took as the red patches followed her, arms raised in alarm- palms toward the sky as if offering his blood to whoever would take it. 

More red, not of the man in the supply closet, no. Another, down the hall. 

They both paused to notice one another, he wielding a knife in one hand, a body in the other. She, offered no explanation, just a white-rimmed stare and two hands clutching at blood. He let the body go, it sagged much like the other and it bled much like the other, behind her the door slammed shut. 

She bolted. The hard slap of slippery, bare feet on tile. Long dress ripped around her thighs as she forced the thread apart, distressed strength surging through her every step as she sprinted further down the corridor, a terrified yell strangled out through heavy heaves of air. She could hear it behind her, the determined footing of another, an attacker, he was chasing relentlessly and Lilith could barely keep upright, each step a warning to herself, the slick blood tempting her foot to slide. 

Doors flew past, each an opportunity she was too frightened to take, too frightened to stop for the millisecond it would take to fling one open. Shouts joined the morbid sounds of her escape, urgent bellows from behind, deep and unrelenting, the words indistinguishable from the blood surging in her ears, beating to the pounding of her feet. The last door, a safe haven in the distance, tall and sure against the wall as she belted towards it, no handle. Lilith slammed into the wood with all her weight, falling into the room on hands and knees, scrambling further past stacked boxes of wine and kegs.

Cold flooring passed beneath red knees and palms, crawling now towards the distinct hum of a crowd, it was just beyond this room, just behind another door. Shallow breaths, lungs clawing at whatever she could inhale between the frightened cries, the image renewed once more in her mind, a man with a knife and a body. It pushed Lilith to her feet, fear flooding her system, an adrenaline shot to the heart. A man with a knife and a body. She clambered forward, toward the sound of civilisation, the promise of help. 

Not thinking, a clouded haze of survival spurred her, blanketed her body and thoughts, a blood-red shawl for the evening. Protect yourself. Do it quickly. Hand dove into a crate, retrieving a wine bottle, her digits wrapped firmly around the stem as she brought its body upwards, smashing it unceremoniously against the wall, the bottle giving way and shattering to unveil its content, sharp shards coated in the liquid on the floor. It felt powerful for a moment, fist clenched around something that could prevent her demise, the jagged points smiling back at her as she brought it closer, a grinning friend amidst the chaos. 

Anger, it pulsated through the door, carried by the yells of men beyond it. Her friend continued to grin, she could see its dark teeth move and chatter, beginning to laugh, howling with misplaced mirth at her shaking hold. “What use am I?” It jeered, the room spun, the door tore open and all power was lost. Again, prey. She lurched forward, bare feet hugging individual shards of glass to her soles as she pushed through another door. 

“Miss, you can’t be back here.” Matter of fact tone, it levelled her senses, drew her away from searching the crowd with fevered eyes. The bartender threw a dirtied look over his shoulder, soon slowly turning to face the panting woman. “What the-“ 

“Security!” Another called out, backing away from Lilith as she held out her howling friend, smothered in blood and skittish as she inched away from the door, knowing they would follow soon, she had to go. 

“Please, you have to help-“ Pleading seemed futile, tentatively she stepped forward and the staff broke into a panic, veering away in horror. Onlookers paused, clinging to the bar at the shocking scene, she pleaded again, rushing toward them, bloodied hand reaching out. “No, please, they’re coming! They’re going to fucking stab me, please!” 

The last door opened and all at once the venue seemed to come to life, the opera broke into the chorus, a greek tragedy forced upon her look, how unfortunate it was to see the girl trying to flee, they sang louder, music drowned by the screams of rushing spectators and it seemed that fate had spoken. Heavy weight crashed down upon her scrambled body, dismissing the option of escape, her head smashed violently to the sticky floor and her world spun once again, jagged friend ripped from her grasp, arms twisted behind her and soon, another blow, it blew out the light behind her eyes. 

Both men shared a fleeting look, grasping a leg each as they dragged the woman back into the storage room. 

“This has gotten out of hand.” Gruff, scorned gaze lowers to take in her state, kneeling down to push her comatose being over, eyes always assessing, his hold careful as he pulls her body over his shoulder and stands. 

“Sir, Ghost is comprised, Soap found-“ 

“I know Gaz, go help them rendezvous to med evac, it’s going to be a long night.” 

Garrick faltered, unsure as he followed after his superior. “And the girl?” 

Price kept quiet, steady hold around her waist as she dangled unconsciously on his shoulder, arms swaying with each step he took. 

“She’s seen his face, Captain-“ 

“I know Gaz, rendezvous, don’t make me repeat myself.” 

Chapter Text

It sounded like birds chirping, the pitched call came from above, perhaps a thrush had taken to a branch overhead, calling intermittently. Its small brown eyes flitting around, she indulged herself and began to imagine it was watching her. The sound remained constant, the more she focused on its song, the louder it became, goosebumps prickled down her arms at the monotonous melody. What a sad, little bird. 

Feeling scratchy, foreign texture beneath her, fingers splayed slowly as they explored, gentle caress outwards as she slowly stretched, reaching and reaching until clink. Cold and restrictive around her wrists, it halted her movements. Eyes, reluctant to open, she swam in the darkness towards the bird, following its sound. 

The ache came next, wrapped around her head like a helmet three sizes too small, squeezing with unforgiving might. Pain, it lingered throughout her body, sharp stings bit her feet as she sought to wiggle her toes, mouth parting with a sticky sense of dehydration, an attempt at voicing her discomfort amounted to dry rasps, choked coughs. 

Dreary roll of her orbs, a rushed flutter that caused the girl to grimace at the intrusion of light. The bird began to morph, her own croaking and groaning amplifying its tune, a rushed bleat that rang louder and louder.   

With great effort and a stubborn will to be conscious, she peeled her eyes open, blinking away the blue-white haze that misted her vision. The bird took flight, escaping. Its song remained, hospital machine droning on beside her, body strewn across sheets, limbs cold as no one had cared to tuck her in, hands restrained on either side with handcuffs linked to the bed. Delayed reaction, reality floating just out of reach as she let her confused glimpses carry across the room, wandering from the cuffs to the IV within her forearm, travelling up the drip to glaze over words she could not quite make out. 

Mouth opened once more, lips smacking together in displeasure, brows furrowed- unsettled. Unsettled yet unable to fully understand, still slow from the drugs. 

“Good morning.” The sound startled her, rich in timbre it was indistinguishable from dream or reality. Sickly, slow moments ensued as she searched for its origin, lazily looking upon a figure looming by the window. Blinking it away, the image of a man remained, haze lifting with his presence. 

‘Fuck.' She wanted to say, wanted to spit it out. The only sound managed was a slow, rasping ‘f’ that barely pushed past her chapped lips. 

He turned fully, watching as she came to, started to stir, started to struggle. One pace closer, he stood at the foot of the bed, his frame so broad it almost blocked out the light coming in through the window, a shadow fell over her wriggling limbs, desperately trying to push herself up and away from the other. 

“Sore?” 

She could see him fully now, he almost looked smug situated before her, a front-row seat. Short, brown hair that trickled into a neatly kept beard, thick eyebrows dawned over intense eyes. Inescapable, both the situation and his presence, Lilith could only sit and stare back. His image tickled a vague memory that teased her as she watched him, curious and cautious, she stared as he approached slowly. She stared as he reached the side of her confinement, carefully pouring out water from the jug placed waiting on the bedside table. 

The man was unreadable as he brought the paper cup to her mouth. At first, she refused, lips remaining sealed with a twisted scowl, pulling her head away like a child offered medicine. Patient, he offered once more, as if he himself could feel the dry longing at the back of her throat. Lilith continued to glare, angry expression flaring on her features as she searched the other for any sort of clue. An inkling of understanding. 

“Fine.” A calloused hand gripped her chin, forcing her lips to pucker before he poured the water haphazardly into the small opening created, droplets streaming down the side of her face in the process. Lilith swallowed down a gasp along with the liquid, a furious noise leaving the woman as she attempted to tare her head away from his grasp. 

“What the fuck!” Exasperated, it came out broken, a muffled string of rasps. Barely audible as his grip stayed strong, already pouring another cup before he soon did the same again, more mess dampening her hospital gown, the blue material soaking up the stray water. 

“She talks-“ An offhand mumble, gravelly as it left him. Lilith could barely contain herself, left gaping as he released her. 

“What the fuck!” 

“I heard you the first time love.” 

“What the actual fuck!” 

“Enough.” His tone demanding, authoritative. Again, another pang of familiarity quietens her for a moment, eyes squeezing shut- as if she could just pluck it from the top of her head, it was there, waiting. 

The radio. 

Sharply inhaling, eyes find his in terror, half expecting to find a body and a knife as she had done before. The way her face falls tells him enough, he knows it's come back to her and part of him is thankful, makes the investigation that much easier. 

Watching as he steps back, situating himself back down in the seat he’s been occupying these past couple days, only now had she taken in the room fully. Brown and red paper folders were messily stacked up beside him, a low-lying table clearly made for flowers and fruit now covered in paperwork and old coffee cups. 

He wastes no time. “Can you recall the man you found in the supply closet last Monday?” His hands graze over a folder, thumbing through its pages until a pen fell loose from the sheets, already uncapped. 

Lilith reeled, lip curling in disbelief, she wished he’d come over and force some more water in her mouth, maybe this time she’d spit it out at him. 

“He’s dead, isn’t he? You killed that other guy too-“ 

“So you do remember him, good. I need you to describe the events leading up to you stabbing, unmasking and fleeing from the man in the supply closet.” The flat tone in which he delivered such demands nearly punched the air from her, she sat dumbfounded, fists clenching and unclenching slowly. 

“That’s not true- I tried to help him but he was bleeding out!” 

“Is that why you cut off his comms?” 

“Comms?” 

“The radio Lilith. The radio you disconnected.” 

The sound of her name left her feeling scolded, confusion clear, bobbing her mouth as it opened and closed, a drowning fish. She latched onto the only known thing, her name. Her eyes began to well, sniffling to try to dismiss the tears. “It’s Lilly. Who are you? Why am I handcuffed? How do you even know my name?” 

He sat unmoving, not even bothering to acknowledge the questions that began to fly in rapid succession. “Is that guy dead? Where’s my phone? Let me speak to someone! I want to talk to a doctor!” They tumbled into demands, she began to thrash at the metal confines. 

“You disconnected his radio before stabbing him in the throat and uncovering his identity, who are you working for?” 

“I want to fucking talk to someone sane! Where the hell is the doctor!” 

“Who did you contact when you uncovered his identity? What media did you send out?” He remained stagnant, a lighthouse amongst her crashing waves of anger, stoic and stable as she raged at his shore.   

“Oh my god! help!” The woman hurled out the cry, the percussion of the handcuffs rattling against the bed frame only magnifying the noise she was creating. “Somebody, help me!” 

The screaming seemed to rattle a reaction, though not from the man sitting across from her. Steadily the curtain separating the rest of the room trundled aside to reveal three, slightly agitated-looking men. “I think she’s due for another sedative” The suggestion comes out deep and muffled, and again Lilith is rendered speechless. Her eyes locked with his, mask and balaclava much the same as before, just not covered in blood. 

“You!” It almost sounded excited, her body angled towards him, astonishment clear. “You’re alive!” 

“Did the last dose really knock her out that bad?” Another spoke, head tilting to the side as he observed the scene playing out. 

“We’ve done this routine before lass’.” The third comes forward, almost apologetic as he drops down her bloodied phone, the device resting at her feet, out of reach. 

“Before?” She could feel it now, the deep stir of dread that churned within her, how long had she been here? The bearded one said something about last Monday. . . A week? More? The weather rolled in, rain clouds stormed within her eyes as she choked out thunder, streams pouring down the mountains of her cheeks. 

“Not again-“ The dark-haired male ran a hand down his face and turned away, all too used to witnessing the crazed girl sob and heave by now. 

“Lilly, cmon' you gotta work with us here lass. Let's just go through what happened, you were out looking for something to help clean up yer’ friend, is that it?” The Scotsman tried to calm her, thick accent and kinder approach much more endearing. She shook her head, blubbed a little longer before she drew a shaky breath. 

“Looking for scissors, to cut the muddy parts of her dress off- it was scissors.” 

Price followed along once more, eyes scanning the various pages of notes he had taken during this stretch of waiting and questioning. She’d been up and out three times now, inconsolable to the point in which it was easier to just, start again. It was Ghost’s idea first, to sedate her, the rest seemed unsure. 

The captain struggled, carefully balancing on the knife's edge of morality, the high ground of war. Was this a civilian? A well-trained informant? Was someone successful in uncovering Simon? It all hung in the balance, in weighing the options, it was his team in the line of fire. Though, with each waking and wailing, the story never changed. Just over a week and it's never changed. He watched her throughout the time, the slow rise and fall of her chest, occasional kick of her foot, a frown on her features as she fell deeper into sedated sleep. Something heavy had begun to form within his chest, ribcage housing what felt more like the beat of his growing guilt than his own heart. 

Decisions plagued him every second of every day. 

Garrick could sense it, the way Soap stood back from her bed, the slow close of Price’s file. They’d decided for themselves already, agreed with what he had figured out days before them. Ghost remained uncertain, hand still enclosed around the injection of tranquilliser. Eyes bore into the captain, willing some kind of resolution, wanting to just end things here. 

The quiet between the four soaked into Lilith like a cold chill, still air thick and undistinguishable. Distinctly alone, unable to communicate like they had been, flitting looks and small nods, silent negotiations in which she could all but gawk at. Watching him close the file felt like a finality, a judge's hammer crashing down onto the podium, the jury had spoken and she was all but deaf to their decision. He rose and she began to thrash again, the scrape of the handcuffs rubbing her wrists raw but it felt like something, an attempt at resistance. Never one to go quietly. 

“Is it his face?” The panicked question jumped from her core, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation, Ghost stepped forward, needle poised. “Your face? Is that it- look, I don’t even remember-“ 

“Liar.” Deadpan, he offered her the sharp tip, injection soared towards the exposed flesh of her arm. 

Chaos ensued, a flurry of shouts, Soap colliding with the masked man with a loud grunt of disapproval, Garrick pulling the sedative from Ghost’s gloved hand and chucking it down onto the floor. Price moved with purpose, suddenly thick within the disorder and curtly yelling above the rest, disgruntled by the disarray. 

“No, Ghost.” Barked out, the same heated tone that held the experience of thousands of commands, years of authority. “Not what we agreed.” It’s short and simple, the fray over before it even really started. His arm held out over her body, protection cast like a god amongst men, an invisible shield moulding to her being by his order.

“Surveillance, fucking keep her here.” It's spat as a warning as Ghost turns to leave, two soldiers trailing after him, a warning that lingered as she heaved another cry. She could feel it, the weight of his words, worse than the closing of the file, perhaps her end was in his hands- she refused to believe so. Lilith writhed still, hiccuping and deathly afraid. 

“I need to go.” The words held no importance, meshed between snotty breaths, tears and erratic movements. 

“You won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

Emotion toiled and tinkered beneath the surface of sound logic, purposefully twisting and tugging at notions that seemed beyond the realm of possibility, pushing oneself deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole as the light of rationality raced away. It was dark in the throws of emotion, depths too treacherous to tame. Laid bare to the visceral feeling of raw senses, smell, taste, touch- the iron clasp of stern hands, smothering shoulders, weighing her down, down further and she couldn't breathe because-

‘You won’t be leaving anytime soon.’ The statement was so sure of itself that it shook leaving the cave of his mouth, sombre tones vibrating within the open air, coaxing a curl of her lips. Something small, even humorous, she wanted to laugh. Let her head hang back and grasp her stomach as it convulsed with the sound. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and shout and collapse and be everything at once. She would be everything at once, in order to navigate this unscathed. The chaos contrasted with Price, his grip firm and fair whilst she flailed. Reaching and rioting, hands wanting to illicit their fair share. 

     You won’t be leaving anytime soon.

“This can’t be legal, I want a lawyer- or a call, a phone call, that's the law!” Pent-up stress came hissing out with her words, lashing at the other in her volatile nature and still, she harboured all the menace of a small, yapping dog at Price’s feet. Loud and brash in nature yet desperate in its jumping and barking, demanding attention. "You can’t just keep me here." She bit, tone faltering slightly in exhaustion, already encumbered by the shock of the situation.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t legal, at least that’s how he explained it. The whole situation wasn’t quite above board, it seemed the whole team was submerged in the grey area of wars, never to be truly seen or heard, apparently, by then it was too late. Lilith wanted to scoff, in her brief brush with these hulking morons the girl had managed to uncover a lieutenant and partially escape, she was convinced with some prior warning, she could have made it free. 

“What use is the mask if people can just, well, pull it off.” 

“This is the first time something like this has happened.”

A stubborn breath of air sounded from her mouth, she had calmed from the morning's earlier events. The man who sat across from her, a man whom she had come to know as Price, stayed the length of her panic, warm hands weighted on her shoulders like a blanket as she tried to fight the reality of the situation. You won’t be leaving anytime soon. It had spurred her into a frenzied alarm, unaccustomed to sheer group force, left at the mercy of another. He remained, attempting to soothe, not overbearing as he stood quietly beside her, presence just enough to stop the girl from hurting herself anymore. 

Now, he sat across from her, cramped into the hospital seat, the conversation mostly one-sided as he indulged Lilith in her questions, skirting around any valuable information, careful in his replies. 

“Can I at least call my family? A friend, what stops the police from putting out a missing person thing?” 

“Missing person thing.” He mirrored, the corner of his lips curling up ever so slightly, mocking the dark-haired girl as she scowled back at him, defiance clear in her attitude, starkly uninterested in being teased. 

“Okay fine, fuck you.” Lily deadpanned, spiteful in her reply, if her arms were free she would’ve crossed them. 

“Moody little thing, aren’t you.” Price leant back against the cushion, the chair complained from his weight with a low groan of shifting wood. If he wasn’t so exhausted he may have been humoured, the past hour or so of talking with this new interruption to the team felt a lot like bickering, the back-and-forth unneeded as she accosted him with question after question. 

“We can nullify APBs and other government alerts with due concern.” The sheer importance of the task force allowed for lines to be crossed, information to be accessed, data skewed. Operating outside the margins, if it was necessary, Lilith could be pronounced dead. 

Time slipped by rather innocuously, a gentle too and throw developed, two lumberjacks at work in the forest of her thoughts, each push and shove slowly clearing out trees, hulking questions and their evergreen branches crashing to the surface, the rigid teeth of the saw a monotonous sound against the hardwood, it flowed throughout the space. As the clock hit twelve they stopped, a truce between workers, Price disappeared into the woods, away from their clearing. When the captain returned he moved to sit next to the other, wanting to continue in their endeavour as he placed a sandwich between them, a packet of crisps soon following, a peace offering. A quiet fell upon them, Price thumbing at plastic and soon offering her half. 

A moment passed between them before he realised his oversight. “Ah.” Eyes steadied on the handcuffs. Lilith felt a tickle of a smile on her lips, unsure if it was due to the other actually treating her like a human for the past few hours or whether it was because he’d messed up. The forest clearing they had toiled over began to grow afresh, strong roots taking hold and once again, the small shadow of a smile soon fell into a sad expression as Lilith lost herself in the haze. 

Hesitant to provoke her once more, shifting toward the woman from his awkwardly taken perch on the edge of the hospital bed, the soggy commissary sandwich placed aside as he dug into his pockets, searching for something. 

“We’re both in a difficult position here Lilith.“ Voice hoarse as he spoke his thoughts aloud, azure eyes expansive with years of worry, the waters within them deep with a certain understanding of her pain. Hand held out, reaching to gently cup her wrist within his sure hold, the other digits producing a key from his pocket to work the lock off her cuff. “To us, my team, you could be trying to hurt them. You could’ve been successful in doing so already” The metal clicked softly before he cranked the strap back, letting the steel bracelet fall from her reddened skin. “Or, this could all just be one huge mess you’ve unknowingly walked into” His hand remained, thumb gracing over the angry, welted ring on her wrist. 

It felt as if she had been freed of one trap and yet, had just fallen into another. 

Lilith inhaled a deep draw of air, eyes fluttering closed as she listened, melancholic in the way she seemed to accept his words, almost anticipating what they were leading to. Still handcuffed on the other hand, she pulled away to pick up the offered half, tentatively taking a bite before glowering in revolt. “This sandwich is terrible.” 

“I know.” He uttered, opening the packet of crisps and offering it to her instead, still picking up her discarded half and continuing to eat it, waste not-want not. 

“You should apologise.” Ever the dictator, still chained to the bed yet empowered by the small freedom to feed herself. 

“For what? The sandwich or the situation?” Price swallowed down a mouthful, brushing a stray crumb from his beard. 

“Both.” 

He sighed, gaze averted from the other to watch out the window. The atmosphere began to hang lower, thick with the turn of the conversation, laden with a certain morose theme. Rain began to collect in the clouds ahead, condensation clinging together to form droplets, slowly weighing down the surroundings and turning them grey. The light from the windows steadily dying out, sooty colours setting it. The quiet before the storm. Price listened, eyes cast towards the glass, watching the weather turn as he thought. Always thinking. 

She could see it, even just for a passing second, past the insurmountable Captain and his duties, past the hardened gait and furrowed brow, just a man making decisions, ones that changed the courses of people's lives forever, ones that he had to live with himself. 

Rounded droplets began to fall from the sky, flying free for moments at a time before they crashed onto the surface below, forced to split into sopping puddles, soaking the world beneath them. The rainfall drummed steadily against the window, its sound was a comfort to Lilith, she'd always loved the rain.  

“Either way.” Assailant or civilian, the two roles she had unwittingly taken, caught in the lights of a play she hadn’t rehearsed for, stumbling and stuttering on stage in an effort to keep up with everyone else. “I’ve seen his face.” The weather picked up, wind charging into the rain, battering it against the glass pane, knocking with might, desperate to be part of the conversation. 

“You’ve seen his face.” Tone hushed as Price echoed her, sombre as he turned to face Lilith, ignoring the weather. 

“I’m not going back home for a while now, am I Price?” Vulnerable, she knew his answer, the way his head ducked down before he spoke gave it away. 

“I don’t think so love, not for a while.” 

Chapter Text

The weather stayed angry as the week passed by, confined to the hospital bed her only choice was to wait and watch, witness the wrath of whipping winds and the war cries of thunder. Wishing she could invoke her own brand of revenge, some sort of punishment for the revolving door of staff that never let her be. 

Humiliation bubbled constantly, sat silently, she’d resort to side-eye and the cold shoulder, unwilling to engage with the advances of whoever had been given the task of checking in on their little fugitive. She tolerated Garrick, a mutual understanding of just how cruel and unusual this situation was seemed to allow a soft lull in her habitual biting personality. He even offered her some pittance, a small admission. 

“I know you weren’t out to hurt Ghost.” 

Lilith nearly cried when she heard it, tired of constantly defending herself, answering questions so carefully, unsure if her reply would be the last nail in the coffin. So when Garrick came, they’d play games. 

“Price made us do P.T in the rain because Soap left a huge mess in the common room and roped everyone else in.” Gaz announced his entry, every time, with a complaint. Lily laughed mockingly, enjoying the defeated, wet-dog look he held. 

“Yes but now you’ve got an I.O.U in your favour” She hummed, the small welcoming smile she’d graced the other soon turning into a scowl as he sopped onto the bed, dampening the sheets by her feet. 

“Dick.” 

“It’s your turn-“ Garrick flopped fully, back crashing onto the bed as his feet hung off the side, awkwardly dangling for a moment before the movement stopped and he closed his eyes. She peered down at him for a while, contemplating their game. The yes but, game. ‘Try be positive!’ they jeered at one another, hurling grievance after grievance and awaiting the silver lining the other would offer. 

“I haven’t been outside in nearly three weeks.” She sighed, eyes lingering on the window once more, admiring the way the rain slid down the glass, tear-like streaks that felt so familiar. 

“Yes but you get to see that hot nurse all the time.” A sly smile spreads with his reply, and Lilith rolled her eyes at the mention of her. 

“She’s got that, way too chipper, thing about her- it’s off-putting.”

“You’re just jealous she gets to actually leave this place.” Gaz teased, turning to look at the other as he reached out and pinched the back of her ankle, squishing the tendon between his cold fingers.

“OW! That’s fucking horrible!” Loud, shrill shouts of Lilly kicking his onslaught of abuse away and the satisfied cackles of her abuser ensued. The pair resembled two kids at a sleepover, yelling and jibing at one another until the heavy sound of the door slamming shut cut through the light moment. Garrick slid off the bed within an instant, the movement smothering the smiles from both of their faces, eyes a little hesitant as they looked over at Price. Scowl evident, he stood by the door, arms crossed, already on edge. 

The quiet that came soon after was painful, awkward and reluctant as the three just looked at one another. Lilith could barely take it. 

“Can I fucking help you?” Petulant as she barked out, thankful for the sound of her own voice, unable to just sit in the thick of it all. Her unforgiving glare fixed on John, watching as he barely shifted, the deep-seated look of burden ever-present as the lines of his forehead crinkled under the stress of it all. “Is it ‘berate Lilly’ time again? I’ll save you the trouble, no I'm not a super spy and no I have zero interest in your little ragtag bunch of gal-pals.” 

A small snort sounded from Gaz, regret instant as he shrunk under Price’s burning gaze. 

“There’s been some development in your situation, super spy.” His voice never failed to raise bumps on her skin, the prickling feeling felt like a wave of minute shocks, always so deep it felt like it would always elicit such a reaction. Even over the radio, it had incited her to action. 

“What will it be this time Sherlock, finally figured out my I.D is real? Has it taken you three weeks to confirm that my bank cards are legit?” Price let out a gruff sound of amusement, it made her even more suspicious. 

“No. But I’ve just received a lovely email, you’d be so happy to hear that the boys over in research have had a whale of a time looking at your profile.” 

His answer brought no relief, Lilith could only glare as the man rounded the corner of her bed, key already within his palm as he unlocked her only cuff. She remained, brows pinched together in confusion, eyes questioning as she looked up at Garrick, the other just shrugged. “What profile?” Finally, she landed on a question, rubbing the freed wrist as Price neglected her reddened skin, unlike the last time. 

“Your profile, love. All the nooks and crannies of your digital footprint. Every last little like, save or search, you’d be amazed at how much we can access.” It dawned on her, why the man seemed so questionable, the tickle of a smirk that ghosted over his lips only confirmed it. 

“Everything?” Not so sarcastic now, she shifted back into the bed, unsure as to where this was going. 

“Oh, everything.” Price stood back, tucking the handcuffs into his back pocket before he nodded towards Gaz. “Go grab Lilith some clothes would you, thought we’d go have a little look at what they’ve got.” 

What she felt before, was no match for this. Shame, anger, humiliation, perhaps every bad emotion and reaction she could muster, they were all brought forward. Standing in borrowed clothes, face alight with the deafening burn of embarrassment as it all flooded the multiple screens in front of them all. Everything she’d ever done, Price wasn’t exaggerating, the data filled all the screens available, the so-called ‘intel’ team enjoying this as much as the task force seemed to be, all gathered around to gawk and pry at the discovery. 

“Where does Tom Hardy live?” One voice read aloud, earning a ripple of chuckles. 

“What does Tom Hardy do in his spare time?” 

“How fast can you learn jiu-jitsu?” 

“Where does Tom Hardy do jiu-jitsu?” By now, a few of them were holding their stomachs, most notably the data team, who to Lilith looked like they hadn’t seen the sun in years. Unkept compared to the other soldiers around her, holed up in their little data den, this was probably going to be the highlight of their month, terrorising her. 

“Christ lass, I don’t think it’s us who should be worried, Tom needs a restraining order.“ Soap bubbled wickedly, another eruption of laughter. 

She stood silent, arms soon crossed over her body, almost as if it would shield her somehow, ill-fitting clothes from the lost and found barely providing any reprieve, she was exposed. Was anything ever private? Lilith never gave much thought to it, not that she’d ever had to before. Part of her wanted to cry, it was overwhelming, surrounded by men as they relished unpicking every thought she’d ever had. She watched it unfold in front of her, every order placed, every email used, every GPS ping that her devices had given off. It was all there. 

“Anything actually worth reporting on?” He cut through the humour, deadpan and serious, no longer smug like he had been before. Price eyed the screens cautiously, unsure exactly what he was expecting but it wasn’t this, seeing it all there, humanised her. Not some abstract threat that thrashed and howled in the hospital, but a lifetimes worth of questions and answers. A wiry researcher grinned at the question like he’d been waiting with bated breath. Spindly fingers began to type away at the keyboard, thick clunks and clicks before he pressed enter, a host of images flying out of a folder. 

“Nothing but these.” 

The air seemed to stale. 

“Oh fuck.” Soap, ever vocal. 

Maroon, baby pink, black, white- a host of different little sets, low lighting, her body positioned in different ways to accentuate herself. A lifetime's worth of bad decisions, it was all there. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you.“ Price towered over the greasy-looking lad, shoving him down into his seat with a growl, ironclad grip nearly breaking skin. 

Confronted with her explicit pictures plastered across the wide screens, Lilith felt as if her heart had stopped. She wished it did, the reprieve in dropping dead, unable to fully register anything anymore, unburdened. Instead, despite her silent pleas, she remained there, alive. Aware. Aware now that these men had insisted upon gathering her here to rub it in, to show her that nothing she ever did, or will do, would be hers alone. 

They were wiped from view in a matter of moments after the Captain's outburst, though it had still happened, they had all seen. Lily gulped thickly, trying to blink away a few tears, trying to figure out what to do. One foot in front of the other, the blind movement felt so similar, the desperate run from a man and his knife, now from men and their prying eyes. She bolted out of the cramped room, no one made any moves to try and stop her, watching as she disappeared from sight. 

“Deal with this. All of it, I want it gone.” Price, barely able to contain his anger, fists clenched white. He’d get them all fired, at best. A million happy images of the intel team bloodied from the face down flickering through his head. “Fucking disgusting.” His parting words, a wavering look toward his men spoke volumes, they all acknowledged it with a small nod, already moving to trap the others between their keyboards, making sure they’d follow through with the Captain's demands. 

“You lot are sick.” Garrick could barely believe it, only finding his voice now in the aftermath. The four remained, looming threats of what was to come, the men beneath them sharing a certain understanding of their lingering presences, a promise of pain. 

Chapter Text

A busybody by nature, easily rushed into putting out other people's fires, never sitting long enough on her own. Lilith had a knack for solving everyone else's problems, neglecting her own to a certain extent, perhaps distracting herself from the mess of taut strings that kept her upright, knotted and highly strung as they puppeteered. A strange notion of control, a lie that clouded her priorities, convinced that fixing other people would fix herself. Having had her life put on pause, taken out of her hands completely, set in limbo by strangers, it was starting to deteriorate the woman. 

She hurried down foreign hallways like she once had done before, not bathed in blood but steeped in shame as she navigated this hellscape. Thankful for the clearly marked exits, emerging from the warren with watery eyes and shaking limbs. The weather, the only comfort she’d had in her captivity, welcomed her with a heavy gust of wind. Droplets heaved themselves down, desperate to meet the girl, soaking her completely. Biting chill gnawed at her exposed skin, burrowing its icy nature into her completely, Lilith happily let it in. She could understand the sting of the cold, the shivering in wet winds, it felt real. Aching from the inside, humiliation that pulsed from deep within her, that she could not comprehend, could not solve. 

Worriedly he jogged through hallways, scanning rooms and clearing corridors. The man would have passed her if it wasn’t for the gale that blew through the doors, swinging the exit open in a flurried fit, revealing the runaway. He caught the wooded entrance before it slammed shut, quietly watching her stand and shake. How he condemned himself then, waiting for the right words to fill his mouth, waiting for the solution to just arrive at his feet. It was never that easy, John knew that. 

A steady step into the onslaught of the elements, tentative, not wanting to scare her off. He surveyed the woman from afar, black hair whipping in the wind, ill-fitting shirt from the lost and found that had a worn red cross plastered across its front, skimpy hospital flip-flops. It was all wrong. 

“Lilith.” A guttural call, full of remorse as his baritone husk accompanied nature's symphony. 

She wanted to go home, be coddled up in bed after a hot shower, slip into needed slumber. But, as the minutes ticked on by, the bubbling infuriation slowly began to rise, tiredness now brewing into famished fatigue which clouded her usual judgement. Without substance, without direction. Lilith had thought she wanted some peace, glancing over at Price as he exited the building, she could feel it boiling now, an almost twisted sense of excitement as he approached. Strangely, this is what she wanted, something to hurl her mess at. 

His hands thrust out from the obscure darkness, coated in ash and war, tanned and warm as they ensnared the creature in their trap. There was no use in protest, snarling teeth and growling harsh obscenities in efforts to escape, no use in attempting to pull away, the grip determined and strong. It was instinctive, wanting to protect herself, naturally defensive as the world was unforgiving and cruel.

Words fell short as he held her in his grasp, eyes desperately searching the others for some kind of relief. John's grip was all too sudden for her to pull back from, gentle yet instructive, moments felt like intensely long minutes. Lilith stood all too still without breathing, protesting every second of the inspection, storm clouds of grey angrily beginning to rain over the electric blue pools of emotion that seemed to rule the hue in his orbs. Price’s exploration started to spill into uncharted territory, making haste in calming the tempestuous domain. 

Finally drawing breath, Lily retreated back from the other as John retracted his trap. Mouth dry from the anger, the worry of having been surveyed in such a disastrous state. Wetting her lips with an awful snare the woman seemed to generate thunder around her being, the glow penetrated by strikes of harsh lightening, unforgiving as they longed to land. Target, already acquired. 

“Don’t fucking hug me.” An unforgiving hiss as the rain continued to fall. 

“Didn’t know what they were gonna show.” A low grumble, pained as tense seconds beat between them. “It’s gon’ be dealt with okay, I’m sorry.” Contrite, close to repenting as she still stormed on, eyebrows scrunched so tightly, nose flared. 

“I’m sorry.” He was croaking now, unsure of what else there was to say, wanting to make it better, not knowing where to start. Was he even right, being here? Trying to soothe? 

“Lilith, cmon’ let's go inside.” Price pleaded, hands balling and unfurling, fighting the urge to just pick her up anyways, force her into his idea of safety, his idea of control. No. That’s what started this whole scene in the first place, he stood unrelenting, sure he’d stay here at least, not leave her to the weather. 

“Did you really not know?” She was faltering in her fury, voice failing to carry the anger, now awash with her shame. John shook his head, sliding out from his heavy coat and draping it over her shaking frame, hands fell onto her shoulders, trying to urge himself not to carry her inside. 

“They’ll all be fired by tomorrow.” Calloused thumb lifted to press gently between her eyebrows, smoothing out the crease, he ushered out another apology. Lilith closed her eyes, letting the other try to remedy things, letting her features drop slightly with the soft pressure he applied. 

“Sorry for the sandwich or the situation?” A twitch of a smile tickled her lips, John chuckled inwardly, shaking his head. 

“Both.” 

Lilith swayed with the wind, finally accepting the cover of John’s jacket, burrowing herself into its warmth and tugging the material around herself with a deep huff. She shuffled slightly, wet squelches of the hospital flip-flops giving her intentions away as she inched closer to the other, wordlessly urging him to try again. Asking him to hold her, red-rimmed eyes and sniffles, lips still etched into a frown. 

“You gon’ use your words sweetheart?” 

“Half the base has just seen my nudes Price, you really gonna make me ask for a hug?” He gawked for a moment, unsure as it why he expected anything else but attitude, accepting it nonetheless. 

“I was teasing Lilith, love, come here.” 

“No, fuck you I don’t want one anymore.” 

“Liar.” Accusation airy, moving to wrap himself around her before she decided to dart off again, pulling her close to his chest, wanting to evaporate the harm he’d done, the pain all of this had caused. 

Cradled within him, for a moment, she let herself relax. His warm seeped through his jacket, beneath the sopping wet clothes that clung to her, delved amongst her skin and endeavoured to thaw the ice in her bones. Relief swept over the woman and it came with a sudden calmness, one she was not used to. It lulled her to close her eyes, rest within the unmoving embrace that sheltered her from the storm, from the prying of others. A waft of aroma filled her senses, the woodier scent cut with a unique smell she couldn't quite place. Cigars. It was cigars. Warm, earthy and far too welcoming. The sudden overwhelming feeling of John filling her senses did nothing for the redness that dusted across her pale skin, gulping ever so quietly as the Captain finally retracted himself. He stood close, hand resting on her shoulder, not all too ready to let go entirely. 

“I don’t want to go back to the hospital room.”

“You’re not going to.”

“I don’t want to be cuffed either.”

“Noted. No cuffs, anything else?” He offered a half smile, urging her to answer.

“I want takeout and wine. I want to go and get my stuff, especially if you insist on keeping me trapped here. Most of all I want a fucking cigarette.” The list rattled off her easily, having had weeks to brew over all the things she missed being chained up in that horrid room. 

“Right well, we’ll have to see about getting your things, not tonight though love, the rest can be arranged.” 

Chapter Text

His comfort faded as quickly as his smile did, having corralled Lilith inside the Captain seemed to have moved on from her distress. Set on checking off another task on his ever-long list, his presence coursing through halls as he passed through, the dampened woman trailing after him. Soldiers pressed against the walls to make room for his bearish gait, reputation cloaked upon his broad frame, tripling his size. He moved in silence, thoughts ticking over in time with his steps, a steady beat in which his subconscious could growl too, mull over the thrum of his anger. Wet echos of her borrowed footwear sounded as she hurried herself in order to remain in his shadow, scornful eyes burning holes into the back of his khaki shirt, occasionally flickering around to then glare at a stray soldier. 

The flip-flops were slowing her down considerably, slipping and sliding on the shiny linoleum floors. Lilith slid her foot out of one mid-step, letting it remain in their wake. She soon ditched the other, now able to somewhat keep in step with Price as he led her through the maze of buildings. Words clattered against the cage of her teeth, hurdling around her shut mouth with such force she could barely contain herself, desperate to stir up something other than the heavy atmosphere that the man ahead of her carried. This whole situation had uprooted her life completely and yet it felt like he was the one on a quiet rampage. She could feel it slamming against her, the need to crack the weighted silence, break the dam. The pink of her lips now slowly burst into a deep red as the capillaries broke, teeth wrenched down into the soft flesh, hesitantly released in preparation to speak, cage steadily shattering. 

“This’ll be your room.” 

Her mouth hung open, brows furrowed as his tones filled the air instead of hers. So focused on projecting her angered gaze on him, entangled with finding the right words, blinded to her surroundings as he had thrown open a locked door. She faltered, blinking away the burning resentment in her eyes and letting them carry across the space. It almost reminded her of a dorm room, simplistic plywood furniture, desk, shelves, all of one eggshell colour that carried an impersonal air. The bed tucked into the corner, deep blue sheets that matched the colour of the curtains which were drawn over the window that presided just over. The light overhead flickered, he loomed beside the doorframe, inspecting her reaction, waiting. 

Lilith stepped across the threshold, bare feet scratched by the rough-cut carpet, an off-blue that almost looked dirty. Maybe it was. She shivered involuntarily, sucking in a deep breath, cringing at the overwhelming smell of bleach. 

“Garrick prepped it for you weeks ago.” Price had watched him do it, unsure as to why one of his best men was hell-bent on freeing someone who could have been the undoing of them all. Back and forth debate all the way as the Captain witnessed him scrub the place clean, skirting boards and all. 

“What’s going to happen to those men?” She faced away from the other, cheek turned and body held in place. Lilith felt as if one more step further would come across as acceptance, a willing participant in her fate, no doubt he’d want to seal her in this astringent-smelling room. Practically a storage closet with a bed and a window, it was just missing the bloody body. Somehow this felt familiar. 

She wanted some course of judgement, some trial, some punishment. His anger felt futile, an enraged Captain meant little to a woman trapped within his den of predators, a bleeding bunny led deeper into the bowls of this haunt, those pictures had only just rung the dinner bell. 

The question riled his wrath further, calloused hands down dragging down the length of his visage, pulling at the course hairs on his chin, eyes clenched shut. Blood lay behind them, the vision of red so potent he could barely see past it. Not that he wanted to, it felt right in this situation, morals askew when it came to upholding the dignity of a woman, one supposedly in his protection. The red swirled on, protection or investigation? Who knew at this point, lines continued to blur as the weeks went on, now standing in a soldier's room and asking for damnation. He had answered before, he was going to fire them. The answer felt weak now, frail in the kingdom of his rage, barely able to keep upright as it offered itself before him. Somehow, both John and Lilith understood this, it wasn’t enough. 

It felt wrong, wanting to inflict lasting hurt on men who were supposedly on his side, slept in his barracks, ate beside him at mess. And for what? A stranger who had saved Simon from a stab wound? Seen his face? 

Saved. 

He could make out her frame through the maroon mirage, peering out back at him, barefoot and shivering. 

“They won’t be an issue.” 

Lily inhaled once more, almost as if his reassurance had permitted her to breathe again. She nodded, eyes closing with the movement, lips drawn tight. She didn’t doubt that it would be handled, it seemed now, that the other's anger had grown so large it consumed her own, elevating the burden of action, swallowing the responsibility down as his to herald. His anger alone may have issued uncertainty but theirs together, it morphed into an odious thing. And by god was it beautiful. 

The four walls surrounding her felt oppressive without Price’s presence pushing them back, focusing her thoughts. Having left Lilith to herself long ago with a gruff command to ‘remain’. At first, she spent the time in riled dismay, jeering out mock impressions of the Captain and his demands.

“Remain!” She’d bark, soon following it with a deeply sardonic laugh, then a stretch of pitying quiet as the room stayed the same, the carpet still scratched and she was still very much alone. With no clock to watch, an hour had stretched on to feel like an eternity. Wet clothes clad to her skin as she circled the small space, soon resorting to flinging open all the cabinets and drawers to relieve some modicum of her boredom. 

Upon opening the inside of her desk, Lily stood pleasantly surprised. A small sticky note clung to the wrapper of a chocolate bar, messy handwriting scrawled out in black alongside a badly drawn smiley face wearing sunglasses. 

‘Peace offering from your new neighbour, I introduce to you, the Gaz-laxy bar.’

She removed the note to reveal a Galaxy bar with a ‘z’ crudely shoved between letters with what looked like black permanent marker. Lily huffed softly, a humorous swirl of air leaving her as she tried not to chuckle, it was so stupid. She loved it. 

“See, told you guys it was funny.” 

“Fucking hell!” With a gargled yelp, Lily spun toward the voice, now finding Kyle poking his head around the open doorway, Soap and Ghost beside him, all peering in. A strained silence fell upon the four as they seemed to stare at one another, she clutched the chocolate bar in her hands with a suspicious look, scowl now forming.

“How long have you been there?”

“Not long, just came back, meant to show yer’ round lass.” Soap pushed past the two other men crowding her doorway, awkwardly stumbling into one of the open closet doors in the process. A bundle of clothing in his hands messily clutched with great difficulty as he took a moment to situate himself, now dumping them onto her bed. Lilith picked through the pile, all standard-issue military uniform, on first inspection most of the items seemed normal though as the woman started to look properly-

“Where are the laces for the boots?” She held up a black boot, its leather tongue flopping out without the lace holding it steady. 

Soap rocked back and forth on his own shoes, which very evidently had laces, lips pursed as he let out an elongated ‘err’, decidedly looking away and distracting himself by opening and closing the door he’d just fallen into. Lily persisted, now ever more suspicious, shoving the boot towards Gaz, waving it in his direction with a raise of her brow. 

“How am I supposed to walk properly in them without laces?” 

“Not allowed laces.” Deep, voice awash with general distaste, like he’d chewed up stone and spat it right out at her. 

Lilith faltered slightly, not expecting Ghost to have addressed her, it was unusual, the man hadn’t spoken to her directly after the whole needle incident in the hospital. She chucked the boot back onto the pile, hand now situated on her hip as she returned his sour answer. 

“Any particular reason?” 

Both Soap and Gaz looked uncomfortable, even more so as the towering menace crossed the threshold and loomed over her, even with a good stride between them Lilith felt dwarfed by the other, things fell into Ghost’s orbit and never came back out, a black hole of a man sucking out all the energy in the room, all the oxygen. 

“Could hang yourself with them.” 

The sharp pinch of a shiver scraped down her spine, her hand fell to her side, shoulders slumping forward slightly, and the urge to make herself smaller overcame her. 

“No belt, no laces, no drawstrings.” 

She moved back toward the bed, picking up a long-sleeved shirt before casting an overly pointed look back towards the three. 

“No underwear either? What am I gonna do with those? Seduce someone into lending me their laces so I can finally fucking hang myself?” 

Soap let out a snort, throaty laugh leaving the shorter male as he petted Simon on the shoulder. 

“Ask the Cap’n about personal items and whatever’s not there.” He rocked back and forth once again before Simon shrugged off Soap’s hand and crowded the man out of the room, grumbling something toward Johnny as they left Gaz waiting in the doorway. 

“C’mon Lil’ go commando and get changed for now, wanna show you the place before its dark.”

She reluctantly complied with Kyle, only because of his stupid chocolate bar. Dawned with her ill-fitting hand-me-downs the woman looked like she’d been playing dress up. The dark green shirt hanging from her frame unflatteringly as well as the camo patterned cargos, which she had rolled up around her waist to accommodate for the material slipping down every two steps. The tour was short as her world had, oh so graciously, been opened up from the small hospital room to the section of the barracks which the team occupied. Shared bathrooms, a shabby common room and a hallway of half-empty dorms. 

“What a thrilling tour Garrick, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart for the ten minutes you took out of the busy, busy day to show me your bountiful kingdom.” Lily stood, arms crossed over one another, sarcasm spread thickly over her demeanour. 

“I haven’t even shown you the best part yet lil’ miss commando, get yourself ready, it’s the best your life in captivity is gonna’ get.” He grinned wickedly, beckoning Lily over to him as he raised himself up on his toes, stretching out to grab ahold of a cardboard box that sat on top of the row of kitchen cupboards within the common room. She watched curiously, inching closer as Gaz shook the box, the sound of packaging filled the air with each jolt. 

“Oh yes.” 

“Oh yes indeed.” He hummed, chuckling now as the black-haired girl dove her hands into the mess of food. A whole box packed full of snacks, the feeling of the different plastics scratching her hand made her smile widen, childish pangs of excitement escaping her as she rummaged through the contents. 

“Suddenly I love it here.” She grasped onto a packet of crisps and laid them along her forearms like she was cradling a newborn, rocking the plastic and shushing it comically.  

“What’s her name?” Kyle cooed, now picking up his own packet and copying Lilith as they tended to the children. Laughter intermingled, he was indulging her for sure, or maybe just tired and happy that someone was willing to endorse his tendency to play stupid. Someone other than Soap that is. She circled the box and planted herself next to the other, pushing her packet towards his own when something seemed to halt the girl, her smile fading as she soon pointed at Kyle’s hands. 

“Was it..” She started, glancing over the red ridges in his knuckles, the beginnings of a bruise covering the flesh around the welts. A heavy sigh heaved from his lips as he let his packet drop back into the box, stretching out his fingers, he spread the digits wide in order to grant the other a good look. Garrick had decided the moment his hand had collided with the face of one of those tech boys, that he’d tell Lilith. This had gone beyond the usual, it felt less like duty and more like defending a friend. Even more so when Price had come back to the room, Gaz was sure he’d be hearing the Captain call them off, but no, John stood seething, soon joining in. Even Ghost had thrown his weight about a bit. 

“I doubt they’ll be finding any reputable jobs with faces like balloons.” He scoffed, head tilted down slightly, trying to catch her gaze as she stared at his hands. Lily hesitated for a moment before she sucked in a sharp breath, already feeling the rush of blood circle through her head, the worry starting to build with every pump of her heart. 

“I wish-“ Voice fell flat, not as strong as she wanted it to be, betrayed by the air in her lungs. “I wish I could’ve done something yanno? I feel like, well, I don’t know.” She sighed, closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“What happened, how it was dealt with, I think everyone involved wished they could’ve done something more.” He was whispering now, lowering his voice to meet hers, outstretched hand now moving to gently grasp her shoulder, a gentle hold as they fell into quiet conversation. He inched closer, body turning to face her, eyes flickering around the place before he continued on. “I’ll be honest Lil’, never seen the Captain hit another soldier, not like that.” Hushed, eyes a little wide as he recounted Price, the look in his eye, the man seemed far from his sense, lost in whatever had taken hold. “Think we all crossed some lines today, if I’m honest-“

“What are you two hens clucking about?” The Scotsman smashed through the delicate exchange, rounding the corner to the common room with a loud whistle at the sight of Gaz and Lilly crowded over the snack box. “Price ain’t gon’ be chuffed about that.” He hollered, clearly pitching the call up an octave or two, wanting to attract attention. 

“Shut up man!” Gaz was quick to snatch the packet of crisps from Lily’s hands and scurry to shove the box back above the cupboards, leaving the girl to stand confused. 

“Caught red-handed in the reward box Gazza, I canny remember you getting any permission for tha’.” 

Lilith watched as the two dropped into some petty back and forth, soon gathering that the snack box was indeed not a free-for-all but a coveted reward. One that king Price seemed to dangle over their heads. The notion made her curl inwards with a dubious sort of humour, disbelief evident at the childish nature of it all. 

“Would you two shut up.” Ghost soon came into sight, notably, the man had changed into what looked like an attempt at loungewear. Dropping down onto the worn sofa he drew an exaggerated breath, taking out a phone from his pocket and holding it out before him. “Price said to go ahead and order.” 

Chapter Text

“As the one taken hostage here, I feel my vote matters more.” 

“I don’t actually think that helps your case in any way Lil’.” 

“Oan’ this occasion I actually agree with the lass, I cannae take another Chinese-“

“Could you at least try and speak English for once Johnny.”

Disgruntled, Lilith let her head roll back against the cushion of the sofa, groaning loudly at the bickering. “This was meant to be my takeaway!” 

“Sharing is caring.” Kyle implored, the four had reached a stalemate. 

“Well private no-pants and I will share an Indian then, you lot get Chinese.” Soap pushed himself up from beside Ghost and moved to slump next to Lilith. As the man dropped down messily his large shoulder caught her own in a bruising movement, squashing her frame down behind himself. 

“Fucking Christ-” She bit, free hand now slamming into his side, knuckles digging into his ribs with an effort to try to dislodge the male. Soap recoiled with a disjointed wail of pitched noise, pained laughs breaking out as she continued to assault his ribs.

“Oi- OI! Lass! Come aff’ it!” 

“Don’t tickle him.” Ghost barked out in an instant, defensively standing over the two within seconds, guarding grip going to separate them, only to be pulled into Soap’s side, practically kneeling over the man.  

“Ow can everyone just get the fuck off me-“ Lily squirmed beneath them both, shooting daggers back at Simon as he seemed to loom over her like an iron wall between herself and his sergeant. She paused in her struggle to fully return his unyielding glare, lips twisting into a determined glower. “Gonna strangle Soap with my shoelaces.” 

“The ones you’re gonna seduce off a soldier?” Kyle quipped, feeling slightly left out of the fray. From beneath Ghost, Johnny began to chuckle, prickles of red percolating across his visage as he sat smothered by the masked man, slightly out of breath from Lilith trying to get him to move. 

“The very ones.” She hummed, eyes flaring as she maintained whatever stare-down was occurring between them both. 

“And what soldier are you seducing?” The question came from the hall, his voice rose the hairs on her arms as it seemed to reverberate off the walls. Captain Price rolled in like thick fog, you’d feel his temperature rising the room, know his presence, even before you’d see him. Engrossing, the antics had halted in lieu of him, all watching toward the opening of the common room, waiting for his mountainous frame to fill the space. 

“Any, can’t be so picky at the moment.” She chimed, and there he was. Having encroached upon the struggle slowly, as if surveying a battleground, eyebrow rising in feigned interest. He lingered over Garrick, arms folding over one another as he watched Ghost slowly come away from between them and then Soap peeled himself off of Lilith. She rolled her shoulder back dramatically, hand going to massage over the reddened spot in which Soap had crushed. 

“And why, pray tell, would you be seducing any soldier?” 

“Shoelaces.” The four chimed out in union, Lily soon raising her legs up to display her ill-fitting boots. 

Price gave a quick nod, a low ‘hm’ grumbling from his chest as he took in the sight. Eyebrow still quirked, observant as he moved his attentions toward his men, settling on Ghost as the Captain went to gesture with an open palm to her boots. A silent question, one which Ghost had rolled his eyes to. In his mind, it was common sense. Basic safety. 

Lilith, having spent weeks in their presence now, had somewhat become attuned to the wordless conversations held between the boys. It struck her that the Captain was none the wiser to the fashion alterations demanded of her, a smug curl wavered over her lips, a hot chuckle now pressing past her throat. 

“The incredible sulk over there specifically robbed me of shoelaces, belts and drawstrings, in the eventuality that I may feel the need to hang myself.” 

“Snitch.” 

“Enough Ghost, I’m actually struggling to comprehend the stupidity of this-“ 

“He took the scissors from the drawers as well.” Gaz coughed up, turning away from Ghost as he did so, leaning more toward Price like the Captain would scathe off the onslaught of abuse hurdled toward him in one pointed glare. 

“For crying out loud, Simon, all of it better be back in place by tomorrow.” 

There used to be space. Worn cracks of the sofa exposed the hatched webbing beneath it, aged and sun-damaged leather giving way under the wear and tear of hulking frames over time. There used to be enough room for three to lounge comfortably, one left to take prime position on the accompanying armchair. Tradition left the space to the lieutenant or the captain, something unspoken between the two dictated it was first come first serve. There used to be space, and then there was Lilith. 

She’d offered to sit on the floor, quickly dismissed, now snug between Kyle and the captain. When the food came, it was an awkward shuffle of tucked-in elbows and carefully timed spoonfuls of curry, desperately trying not to knock into one another and spill anything. Feeling bold, or perhaps, not thinking properly, she had ordered something new. After three mouthfuls, the woman had gone a patchy array of fuchsia, quietly gulping down the fiery sauce with a shaky determination, too embarrassed to give in or ask to swap with anyone. The tv blared ahead, celebrities screaming and yelling as they went through challenges, easy viewing, something mindless. Lilith was thankful the volume was up so loud, welcome to the distraction as the flavour seemed to pave way for hellfire. She shifted slightly as Price nudged her side, probably wanting more room having been squished in the corner, plate balancing on the arm of the sofa. She crossed her legs over to try to grant him more space, watching out the corner of her eye as he seemed to settle closer, hand encroaching upon her own. 

Without a word, her plate was taken from her, soon to be replaced with his own. Quizzically she peered down at the much less red-looking dish, soon turning to Price as he carried on eating, free hand reaching down beside him to clasp around his pint, taking a measured sip before offering it to her. Lily carefully accepted the wet glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as they brushed against his own, which remained steadfast despite her unsteady grasp, only detaching after the few moments it took for her to grip it properly. 

He remained focused on the bright flash of advertisements and happy smiles, strangers trying to sell him things, minutes of his life he’d never get back. Sometimes, he liked them, the slurry of capitalistic cartoon faces waving product after product, almost took it personally. How long would he have to watch them? Did they know he’d be away? Felt like an ordinary member of the public, targeted amongst the masses, use our service! Buy my product! He wouldn’t. But sometimes, he’d entertain it. 

The idea of a new mop, a shiny vacuum cleaner. What use was it when his house would still be dusty after months of absence, no point. 

He sighed softly, another spoonful of her curry. Christ, it was spicy, no wonder the poor girl was suffering. He could feel her itching beside him, practically melting away into the couch as she tried to breathe through her mouth discretely, failing to tame struggled coughs. Again, a quick glimpse over, she’d practically drowned down most of his beer, still going, the corners of her lips reddened from the sauce, eyes clenched shut with an earnest sense of relief. 

One, two, steady droplets of condensation rolled past her slender fingers, escaping down the length of her arm. 

One, two, the steady skip of his heart. 

The rim of the glass pulled away from her mouth, smudged where she’d been. He flickered back to the tv, blinking harshly, another spoonful.

Plates discarded along the countertops behind them, several emptied cans littered the common space around them. Food, beer and a long day had pulled a cosy lull of quiet over the group, a warm blanket to sink into, draped over slumped figures as they merged into one another. Eyes feeling heavier, more and more effort needed to draw them back open after each blink. Soap declined into an unresponsive doze first, lolling onto Kyle, like dominos one after the other it was soon Lilith’s turn to soak in their sleep. She had held up quite well, still slightly on edge within the barracks, though the heat radiating from John seemed to disarm her slightly, soft snores coming from the two leaning onto one another going further in levelling down her sense of alarm. 

Every now and again, hazel eyes would peer out across the room at Ghost, who remained in the armchair, sat upright with the same unfinished beer he’d had since the beginning. It was getting harder and harder to keep tabs on him, the darkness submerging his figure into the shadows, only caught by the momentary flashes of brightness from the screen. 

She wanted to yawn, stretch out and submit herself to the pile beside her, check out for the night. It bubbled in her chest, the yearning rising ever so slowly, pushing out her ribs as she inhaled deeply, mouth clamped shut to try and fight the sound. It was small, the held-in yawn, the need to cover it up proved larger than her comfort, eyes slotting shut for a stretch before they crumpled open once more. 

It was strangely comforting to the man, the sound of three muppets snoring away. He’d wanted to call it a night hours ago, holding out to see how long it would take her to give in seemed to sway his judgement, peeking every so often to see the subdued yawns and bleary-eyed look. He knew it wouldn’t be long, proven right by the sudden weight slumping onto his side. By then it was too late, Soap had shifted, then Kyle, and now Lily, all three balanced against the captain as he had only just managed to free his arm, casting it over the back of the couch with a huff. Her face pushed against his broad chest, an open-mouthed sleep that had resulted in a small patch of drool gathering on his shirt. She folded further into his side every so often, huffing and tucking into the warmth. 

He tried to keep his eyes on the tv, head clouded with mops and hoovers.

Chapter Text

Heavy limbs drowned in the stupor of an alcohol-induced sleep and the stress of the situation. Amalgamating into something rather inescapable, sinking further and further into the bowels of the sofa, she surfed the waves of unconsciousness, tumbling about the drowsing deep. She’d surpassed the morning stir, the heavy footing of polished boots on lanolin floors, the clanking of utensils and the bubbling rumble of the kettle. Life moved on around her, left to sail out into her dreamscapes unperturbed, the hours snuck by and soon morning turned to afternoon, but she remained unaware. 

Long arms bare, the hairs raising to attention with his focus. Stained ceramic clutched carefully between calloused fingers, steam wafting from the cup with each measured huff of air that left his person, almost blowing the aroma over to the snoring stowaway as he loomed about the rec room. Circling the permitter armed with the cup, already disappointed that his pointed rustling hadn’t woken the girl. He’d clanged dirty washing about the sink and boiled the kettle about three times for one cup of bloody coffee. She remained. The Captain ruminated on the fact. She remained. Asleep until one in the afternoon, she remained. Here for nearly a month, she remained. Polluting his agendas, she remained. Poisoning his judgements. 

She remained tucked under his jumper, head atop the arm of the couch. Drool, previously dribbled onto the chest of said jumper, now smudged into the already damaged soft furnishing. By a miracle or the infringing temptations brought wordlessly with the scent of coffee, she stirred. Cream diluting the inky black, clutching onto the fabric that blanketed her torso, elongated yawn that slowly tore into a croaking groan. 

“Was starting to think the curry killed you off there, love.” 

She stirred more, leaning up toward the sound of him stalking over, already teasing despite her barely becoming acquainted with consciousness. Adjusting to the room, hands nestled deeper into their grip of the jumper, tugging it closer to her body as she sat upright and watched as Price placed a cup of coffee beside her, the tan liquid shined up at her. 

“It was a…” She took the time to clutch at the warm cup, both hands bringing it to herself for a grateful sip “A challenge.” film-coated vocals, still barely just in the realms of reality. 

A gruff chuckle left him as he sat across from her, taking up the other side of the sofa. It was strangely disarming watching Lilith within the first throws of her morning, nothing like the wounded creature in the hospital. Some aspects remained, her eyes flitted about with a sense of caution, her body naturally wanted to curl up, pushing herself into the corner of the sofa instinctively, nestling under the cover of the jumper. She was careful, tricky despite having been catered to, service beyond what most 'captives' would get, a warm coffee and a smile.

Christ. He’d forgotten the smile. 

“I’m glad you slept well.” He took the opportunity to mention at the dried drool on her visage, raising a digit to his cheek and tapping with a smug look, watching her stall momentarily before catching on and wiping away at her face with an awkward roll of her eyes. 

“I blame it on you, you gave me beer.” Lilith huffed, obstinate and slightly embarrassed. She felt less and less like herself, unaccustomed to falling asleep on strangers’ shared sofas and staying in slumber for long past reasonable hours. Having no real direction, no control. Being overly grateful for a beer, or a coffee, at least she wasn’t scrambled enough to be avidly praising the Captain for his subtle acts of charity that came in the form of beverages. 

“A sip, Lilith, I expected you to take a sip or two, not down the whole chuffin’ pint.” 

“But-“

“Nope, I won’t hear it, especially after you succeeded in commandeering another two after the first.” 

Maybe charity was the wrong sentiment. 

She snorted at his pointed disbelief, simpering humorously behind the cup as she raised it to drink more. He’d just shake his head, hand pressing into the scruff of his beard, smothering down a smile that tickled his lips. 

“And now you’ve drunk my coffee.” Unable to help himself, he chastised her once more, enjoying the flare of her features as he so clearly perplexed her. 

“You put it next to me!” 

“And so you just took it? Bad manners lil’ miss.” 

She glowered at him, thrusting out the half-empty cup with a sarcastic smile “It was bad coffee anyhow.”

He scoffed at this, raising a brow as he leant back further into the cushions, shrugging at the offering of his ‘bad’ coffee. Lily retracted the cup and haphazardly down the rest, taking loud, pained gasps between each hot gulp before she unceremoniously slapped the cup back down onto the table. 

“You’re too stubborn for your own good.” 

The residual pain of the scalding liquid throbbed lightly around her mouth, his opinion only another hot gulp to swallow. “Is this like the prisoner experience here? Do I get awoken by you every day or is this a punishment of some sort, thought we moved past the torture and interrogate Lily stage.” She sassed. 

Now, it was John's turn to roll his eyes. “I’m so deliriously happy you feel my presence is akin to torture.” 

“Oh, so this is a strange, torturous alarm system! Do I get requests? Tomorrow I should like to be risen by a rendition of baby got back.” Lily continued to rebuke the Captain, absentmindedly threading her arms through the jumper as she did so, tugging it over her frame and crossing her arms over as she stood up from the sofa, ready to take in his reaction, finding the aggravation she’d carried with her during this month to slowly beginning to mount itself back onto her shoulders. 

“I’d actually come to check on sleeping beauty and see if she’d be ready to have a little chat about your previous requests… cigarettes, your things in general, but yanno’ if you want me to sing baby got back instead that’s fine too.” 

She stilled, he smirked. 

“Can I have all three?” 

“Nope. Go freshen up Lilith, I’ll be in my office.” 

Minty, rough bristles scraped against her teeth as she furiously scrubbed at their surface, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she listened to Gaz chat over the sound of the running water. 

“You should come to early morning training, it’s just exercise, might give you some routine.” Kyle spoke between swift swipes of his razor, carefully dragging the blade down his chin as they talked to one another’s reflection in the mirror. 

“Price wants to chat about things, reckon you’ll be dragging my dead body out of here before I’d have a chance at morning training.” She huffed angrily, toothpaste foaming at the mouth as she said so. The shared bathroom was less of an intrusion upon her privacy and more of an assault on the senses, the lingering potency of four grown men definitely elicited a less than overjoyed reaction from the woman, now desperate to add air freshener to her list of demands. The violent scrubbing of her teeth only helped to cover the smell temporarily, washing out her mouth and splashing some cold water on her face soon after. Kyle soon followed, somehow creating tidal waves with the amount of water he required to wash the shaving foam from his features, great expanses of liquid spilling over from the elongated sink and splashing onto the floor. 

“You’ll be fine.” He shrugged her off, used to hearing dramatics from Soap, this routine of pre-Price nerves wasn’t anything new. He shot a quick glance in her direction, something brewing in his look, a slither of worry even, as he cautiously contemplated the news that the team received this morning. Soon blinking the feeling away before he dabbed his face on a towel. “Fancy coming with me to butter up the hot nurse in medical? I’ll carry you in all heroic n’ that, say you fainted or some shit and wham bam thank you mam’ I’ll be in.” 

“You really think anyone’s gonna fall for that ugly mug?” She scooped up a handful of water and hurled it toward Gaz, letting out a loud laugh as he veered away from the assault, nearly slipping in his own puddles as he yelled out in struggle. “You fucking twat!” He scorned, grasping onto the side of the long sink as he took in his soaked shirt. 

“Ah, ah! No, you can’t do it back.” She warned, chortling evilly as he slammed the tap back on, ready for revenge. “Or I won’t help you with hot nurse, whose name by the way, is Ella.” She spoke pointedly as she took her leave of the putrid gas chamber that happened to house some bathroom facilities.

“I knew that!” Gaz yelled out after her. 

The atmosphere that carried from the shared bathroom and the dorms seemed to die at the Captain’s door. Starkly different in colour, the dark cherry wood distinct in consuming the light around it, eating from the spirit of the shared spaces. Hesitant hand hovered, her digits so cold that the metal of the door handle felt familiar, an extension of self. She’d only just grasped it, delicate touch barely wrapped around its length when-

“Lilith, come in.” 

Through the door, a loud rasping timbre, she’d been transported back to her early days in college, standing outside the headmaster's door, shuffling feet and nervous hands. Only, this was Captain Price. He’d sensed her lingering long before, awaited her arrival. 

The mood from this morning was scarcely traceable, she struggled to push open the heavy door, its weight certain in trying to keep her out, gatekeeper swinging mightily at the crowd. She was never one to settle, dark wood gave way but swung shut so quickly behind her that the woman barely had time to remove her fingers from its grip, cursing softly as the edge caught her skin. Her discomfort mixed headily with the thick smoke in the air, it hung lowly within the room, catching the afternoon rays as they mingled with the sooty particles. 

“Did it bite you?” Barely acknowledged by the Captain, his eyes cast downward toward a landscape of papers, rivers of files and mountains of cases. She held the offending digit, a small red slit pulsing. Something she’d ignore usually yet the weight of the room wrangled it open, prying the skin apart, smoke and tension settling where the blood should clot. 

“Sit, Lilith.” Finally, the great expanse of his eyes, a momentarily flicker to her figure then back down at the map of work. She moved forward, felt like running in a dream, a desperate flinging of limbs to find she’d barely taken a step, everything felt slow, the smoke was near to choking as she propelled herself into the seat awaiting her. Her hands found themselves grasping onto the jumper, wrenching the fabric and clutching desperately, hoping to squeeze some semblance of clarity from the threads, a touch of clean air it’d soaked from the rec, anything. She fretted, he worked. 

“Let me see then.” Another demand pulsed through with an exhale of smoke, rich and woody. She sat dumbfounded, hazy with the second-hand fog, not totally convinced she wasn’t still asleep. Maybe, she’d wake soon and find herself still on the couch. Parted mouth, she took her time licking her lips, tasting the mint of her toothpaste, actualising her existence. 

“Your hand, Lilith.” It darted out, readily presented to him, things felt strangely out of touch here. A resounding sense of fantasy, the smokey planes of hell, sharp-toothed drawbridge and his majesty himself. Gently, he took hold, large hand encircled her wrist, drawing her closer, surveying the damage she’d taken tumbling down to his stratum. A scratch. With his searing heat, an unsurvivable wound. 

“I’m alright.” Finally, she gasped out, the hazy laddered sun now strung across her features, dancing through the blinds and the smoke to illuminate the concern in her eyes. He huffed, thumb moving to her pulse, happily letting the vein push against his cracked skin, the feeling of it thrumming somewhat comforting. With his measured hold, she’d managed to avert her eyes and let them take in the room around them. At first, it seemed like John had tried to shove his life into this small office, crammed full of wooden trinkets, books and files. Little space was available, everything loomed inward, aching with the weight of his world. It was claustrophobic, even the air did not know how to dispense of his sighs and smoke. 

“The reason-“ His voice startled her, base trembling through the flitter of her asphyxiating thoughts. Price paused, earnestly he watched her, the pad of his thumb now carefully brushing against her skin in circles, half expecting to feel the welts of handcuffs, momentarily happy to find the sensation missing. “-we need to talk, is because the situation has escalated somewhat.” 

Lily nodded, gaze returning to find him, squinting as the sun shone right into her eyes, shifting nervously in the seat as she tried to adjust, leaning forward toward the desk to evade its scorning gleam. “I want to speak to my family.” Her lungs adjusted to the fumes, eyes evaded the light, heart had steadied, hand wretched from his observing embrace. Now, clearer. The room caved toward Captain Price, not her. She was a visitor here, Lilith would not let herself stay long, she had an overwrought feeling that if she did, the walls would start to reach for her too. 

“You will, soon.” Careful, calculating, he sits back. 

“No, Price, your situation has escalated, mine remains the same, I want to speak to my family.” She persists, the familiarity of herself seeping back to her, fortifying in her bones with a cooling chill that felt like power. 

He exhales, fingers drummed along the hardwood in a solemn tune. “Negative, your situation is mine, and it seems, ours is now complicated.” With a kiss of his stained teeth, the Captain put down his cigar, arms crossed over one another as he leant forward to emphasise himself. 

“Known targets of ours have come to the understanding that you are of some importance, an unfortunate conclusion drawn from skewed intel and fleeting perspective.” The blue has drained from his eyes, darkened pits of smoking coal swallowing the ocean that once was. “They see a blood-covered woman fleeing a brawl with our team, and think, other operatives are on the scene.” Dancing around the detail, twirling her to the point, entangled with the team on a mission they’d thought was finished long ago. “It’s messy.” 

“I’m not a part of this.” Lilith pleaded, grasping the desk with both hands and surging herself forward with a sneer. 

“You are now sweetheart.” Unflinching, coal captured the sparks of fury in her glare. “Want you to write a list of what you need to be comfortable.” 

“Want you to listen to me.” Her voice lowers to match the tone he gives her, mocking him with a sharp laugh, grip so hard her knuckles start to pale. 

“I have.”

“Listen again then, Captain, I’m not part of this.” Spat with venom, the honorific clawed up from the bowels of her rage, erupting with menace. It drove him to stand, fist slammed to the table, three long strides and he was so close that whatever air she’d reconciled for herself had been sucked into his damned inferno. “No Lilith, you have no real idea, the danger you’ve caused for yourself, is insurmountable. You want your family? Huh? Sure, should we go see mum and dad in the safe house, lead everyone to em’, shake things up?” It's inescapable, the heat that radiates from him, Icarus had flown too far and she could feel the wax melting her in place, seeping into her pores, cementing her to him. 

“Safe house?” She’s barely audible, quivering in his flaming shadow.

“I know this isn’t your fault.” A whisper of a breeze, something cooler, it coaxes her closer, the potential of reprieve. And yet, he answers nothing. Smoke and mirrors.

“They’re in danger?” Searching eyes claw up at him, furrowed brow digging deeper toward her core, trying to emulate her frustration. He shakes his head lightly, hand slowly raising to settle on her shoulder, an attempt at grounding, it seared against her. 

“Not if we’re clever about this. Bad people think you know things, got intel, that they want. Seen you shoutin’ bloody murder and fighting your way past Ghost and got things wrong, like we did.” 

Her stunned silence makes things worse, he prefers when she’s alive and kicking, harking back at him with vigour. It made his emotions easier to understand, the irritation and general indignation seemed like something palatable compared to the deep-seated guilt she could stir up in him. “The people who tried to kill Ghost, saw me running and thought I did it?” Lilith’s question was more pointed than he’d expected, the catch she’d dug out quite quickly elicited another deep sigh from the man. 

“No, another group.” Pinched, unwilling to divulge much more. She had already stumbled into a mess and the Captain was desperately trying to sift her out of this pile, letting the rot fall away, hoping to keep her alive and well on top.

“Who?” 

John screwed his eyes shut, unwilling to peer down at her as she tried to piece things together. He’d do better stepping back, lighting another cigar, let the smoke obscure her from him. Lilith took the opportunity, sensing the small waver in his stoic nature, striking. Her hand chased up his outstretched arm, resting atop his own, squeezing lightly as she took his hand within her own, pressing a small kiss to his palm. It was brazen, demoralised in the sanctum of his keep, disillusioned by the small kindness he’d shown her previously despite the brawling words often pitted between them. 

“Lilith-“ A dark warning, something worse than anger resonated from him, sticky tar-covered timbre lacquered her name like it was going to escape him forever, now forcibly stuck to his tongue he chewed out the syllables as it pained him, Lilith fixed to his teeth and pulled at his cavities, it was far worse than anger as it was anguish that adhered to it like death. 

Heated bumps fevered her arms, prickling at her skin as he uttered her name, she continued to push despite his scorch. “You can’t say I’m trapped in this and still keep me in the dark.” Pleading whispers, she continued to squeeze his hand, tentatively pressing a kiss to each knuckle, dry skin scratching against the soft plump of her lips. 

“Please, John.” 

Chapter Text

Lilith shifted with his mood, dictated to by tone as she lived in the Captain’s wake. Slithers of tenderness. Sympathy, always. But it wasn’t always clear, had to be watched carefully because he was a fickle man, narrative swayed with the direction of the smoke that left his lungs, feelings left to the breeze as he wrestled with the ebb and flow of his mounting responsibilities, tidal waves crashing on the shore of his desire. He’d swim and swim, never quite making it to the sand. 

Here, pleading, chaste kisses pressed to his hand, reverent even as she presented herself before him, soft and belly up. He remained quiet, she did not feel the need to retreat just yet, lips hovering, eyes downcast. She could morph with him, predict the mood, armed and entrenched within herself, she could recoil, each pointed bone that protruded from her form serving as a blade. Soft or sharp? Desperate writhing back and forth from belly to back as she grappled with the need to rip herself apart and present humble and vulnerable, no threat to him, beating heart and bleeding flesh. To invite his worry to borrow in, wrap itself beneath sinew and muscle so that they may agree on something better, nurse a solution together. Something liveable. But John knows, the only thing viable that spawns from himself is death. He could deliver himself and his worries unto her to swallow but what point in soiling fertile promise with rot? 

He will not tell her. She will not rot. 

His silence is deafening and the horrid shift begins. Bones and blades, back and forth, she jerks from him with an agonised sound, smile like stained glass, colourful and ornate as it illuminated the hallow church of her face. 

“I’ll find out eventually.” Ominous enough, not needing to waste precious breath. Assured that within this peculiar prison, someone would crack. “Even worse, John,” She drew him in, piercing eyes a grim slash in the light as she armed herself “Your situation is mine.” Cruel echoes of the Captain’s words claw menacingly from the caverns of her mouth. 

“And I will make it much, much worse for you.” Down and down she’d fallen into his den, what was the point? Of denying it? Why clamber toward the light when the rest circled the warren? They knew more, no chance of fighting the change. 

She’d shift with it. 

With her haunting smile and exchange of words, John remained very still. Wound-tight, rusted wire scraping against each coil, bound by the sheer determination not to snap. “And how do you plan on doing that Lilith?” Price pressed, whistling tone through his teeth, suppressed as always. 

“Well, I’ve seen his face.” Her smile disturbed him. 

Lilith did not make it to Kyle to help him with the nurse. Nor did she make it to dinner. The threat lingered between the liminal space of the Captain and herself, a bleak reminder that neither played fair, a ghastly mirror of one another, it was hard to fight your reflection. 

Russians, he said, it was ultra-nationalists that had managed to nearly take Simon out of the worldly equation. She sat curled tight into the seat across from his desk, arms wrapped securely around her knees, collapsing inward to a tight ball. Russians wanted to tie up loose ends, stop the task force from interfering as they had before. Her presence, however fleeting it was, raised suspicion of other operatives on the playing field. A man named Shepard, needed to cover things up, something to do with another mission the task force had botched for the other side. It was, complicated. Two opposing forces, unregulated and sporadic in their actions, surged up from the unmarked graves of missions just buried. 

Ultra-nationalists think she is working for the likes of Shepard and reportedly, are searching for friends. 

‘Why?’ The resounding question kept ringing out, head rested atop her knees as she peered up at Price, who had been pacing the room for the hours of his storytelling. 

They have a common enemy, a common interest in seeing the task force dead and gone, ‘looking up at the grass’ as he put it. There was mention of missiles, a disgraced General Shepard now crazed and off-grid, dangerous. It all seemed to be out of touch, an outstanding blood-red mosaic of lies. How could there be so much grey area? More than she’d ever imagined, every doomsday lunatic sounded saner and saner by the minute as she tried to soak it in, tried to imagine John in action. No. The Captain in action. 

She scribbled softly, unsharpened pencil scratching monotonously against the crisp paper as she listened, slowly adding item after item to her list. It helped it settle in, acknowledge that the world she knew was shallow and rather obscured, the pain and pleasure nothing compared to what interfered beneath the surface. 

Lilith leant back, stretching out her limbs with a loud groan, inhaling deeply soon after. She’d become accustomed to his atmosphere of storm clouds and cigar smoke, it no longer made her so dizzy. A quiet fell upon them, more comfortable than before, a lull in his grand tale and the repetitive creak of the floorboards under his boots. She took her chance, holding out her wish list of supplies with a tentative look. “I wouldn’t actually hurt Simon.” Statement soft, sheepish and skittish compared to her outrage from before, tone thick with promise. 

Price let himself stare down at the list, smudged lead and neat, rounded writing. “You need to remember who’s on your side.” He led off, taking the paper and scanning down the writing, he’d tease her about its length later. 

“You were sedating me barely three weeks ago, this is a two-way thing John.” Defensive, teeth-baring down onto her cheek, gum ground between her molars in thought. “This,” She mentioned between them “has helped, I kind of.. understand a bit more now, that’s all I wanted.” 

“Good. I think it’s best we put you up to doing something useful, other than making threats and yellin’ at me.” He chided teasingly, eyes a little warmer as he looked at her, crinkling at the sides slightly. 

“Oh yeah? Kyle wants me to join morning training, that good enough?” 

John shook his head, returning back to his desk to pull out a paper from one of his many files, sliding it over to her. “Says ere’ your degrees’ in finance.” There’s a troublesome cheek in his statement, a little glint in his gaze. “I could use a little help keeping the books straight.” 

Lilith laughed awkwardly, eyebrows raised at his suggestion. “Thought you guys just ran around shooting people.”

“Yeah well, someone has to keep it all in order, the usual army accountants do most of it but when the team is black ops well, can’t really get them to file reports on that, and I still need to keep check of what goes in and out.” 

“Let's see then.” A hefty ledger was dropped onto the table and she began to sift through its contents, face contorting into a grimace as Lily could barely make out the statements, briefly attempting to tally up a basic budget on a page left her even more horrified. 

“You make that face at bad bookkeeping and not at the general violence and world-threatening missiles in the catch-up.” 

“This is barely accounting John, this is miracle work, not even God himself would be able to fit these numbers into the budget, how’d you even carry on like this?” It was beyond salvation. “Your outflow is well, outrageous, it doesn’t match up to any revenue, how the fuck are you not in debt?” None of it made sense, by these numbers, the task force wouldn’t even have enough money for a pot noodle between them, let alone money for home nation guns on black ops missions. 

“Exactly, see love, this is why you’ll be scrubbing up the books. We get funding from elsewhere for certain team-related missions, it just needs to seem viable on here so nothing looks too out of sorts.” Hoarse hums left him as he watched her pool over the mess of numbers, admittedly, the accounting wasn’t his strong suit. Keeping track of the money that Laswell poured into underground operations became tedious and halfway impossible when the team was out on the deployment so much, he barely got his field reports in on time. 

“Also, old man, why the hell are these on paper? Are you slow on excel or something?” Lily slammed the ledger shut in disbelief. 

“Oi, less of the old man, thank you very much.” It felt more natural giving Lilith some slack, a little room to flex her muscles and take some control again, already she’d uncurled from within herself and spread her presence more. It was a vivid thing, the tenacity she emitted shone so brightly he could see it through her eyes, that lively twinkle that came about every so often. Selfishly, he was glad it was there for him to observe, the illumination nearly made him forget about the putrid reality he was allowing her to spiral into. 

Chapter Text

“Let them try.”

“They already have, Simon, and succeeded.” Price bites out, barely keeping himself from chewing out the end of his cigar. “Need I remind you of the mess we’re in now?  Little miss smart ass is down the hall and I sure as hell don’t remember taking on new recruits.” 

“Sure.” Ghost leans back in his usual chair, pupils void of any discernible emotion, palm flat against the round meeting table they all sat around. “Did say I’d take care of it, you said no.” Pointed, the thrum of Ghost’s matter-of-fact tone only made the Captain twitch more.

“Can’t just kill a civilian.” 

A beat passed between them, the air felt stale. Both knew what hung over them, the resounding answer that welled in Simon’s throat, he’d keep quiet but his general distaste was evident. What makes this different to all of Price’s sacrifices? 

The Captain had made split-second choices before, left a man to demolition to save the greater group. To save Garrick. The one real mistake Simon had made in years and it nearly cost him his life, seeing Lily flit about the hallways of their base and hearing her cackle echo around only served as a living reminder of what he’d done. A living, breathing reminder that he had fucked up. She berated him with her presence. 

What was worse, he could still hear her panic. The shrill stutter of a feminine voice, the shaking grasp on his soon-to-be corpse, the pressure on his wound. Simon wasn’t fully conscious after the attack but he was sentient enough to feel her there, the fearful attempts of ushering his sopping blood back into his body did not go unnoticed. He loathed her for it. Why not finish the job? Why follow him here? He was the spectre and yet, she haunted him. 

“Makarov has clearly found his way into the system, someone amongst us has supplied the ultra-nationalists with information, otherwise the races incident would not have happened. This we know.” Price leered over the ancient laptop in front of him, several photos and reports splayed across its screen, a never-ending scroll of nuisances, fires he’d have to put out. 

“Captain?” Soap piqued, tired of trying to get Ghost’s attention, most of the meeting he’d spent nudging the other beneath the table, only now piping up as the Lieutenant clearly wasn’t in the mood to entertain him. Price rose a brow, wordlessly answering the sergeant. 

“Had a funny feeling about the intelligence lads we disposed of.” Gut instinct, it had saved each one of them more than enough times, the general churn of dread that grasped at the sides of one's stomach often spelt out the answers long before any real evidence did. 

“One was Russian.” Kyle pointed out, walking round the table to hover beside the Captain, waiting for permission to take over the computer, pulling up the profiles of the past intelligence team, signalling out one man in particular. 

“Pavel.” Venomous, drastic rumble. 

John looked upon the screen with distaste, the same slimy boy that had taken so much pleasure in unearthing Lilith’s photos, the same child that felt so sure in sharing them. “You think he’s capable?” 

“Cannae’ see why not, squealed like pig when we smashed him in, wouldn’t surprise me if he’d been sniffing around the ultras” Soap shrugged, distinctly remembering the high-pitched yells and bloodied snorts. 

“Just cos’ he sounds like a pig, don’ make him one.” Ghost grumbles, distinctly uninterested in chasing up a stale lead. Not when Makarov had gotten so close already. 

“I don’t mind playing butcher.” Gaz offered himself up, looking down at Price ardently. He’d tried his best to conceal the pang of urgency in his proposal, quietly wanting to bestow another heavy-handed gravel of justice atop of Pavel’s stunted head. Ultras or not. 

“Steady Kyle, this is delicate now, if they got the better of Ghost you can’t just expect to waltz in alone.” 

Garrick rocked back on the heels of his boots, hands now firmly planted on either side of his hips, clutching at his belt with a tight-lipped frown. “Doesn’t it make you suspicious how fast they got all that data? I mean, the sheer amount of it as well, we’ve had targets before and it’s taken ages for a data mine.” 

“It’s not like she’s taken any care in protecting herself.” Simon scorned. 

“Even so, if the Russians wanted to know if Shepard had any soldiers out, they’d be pushing for intel quick.” Kyle kept to his point, not fully ready to look Ghost in the eye but still addressing the room. 

Worn, crinkled, distinctly unorganised.

It had presided in her dreams, her nightmares, in every waking moment since she’d come across this wretched thing, the ledger from hell had loomed over her like the end of days. Much to the Captain’s glee, Lilith had naturally fallen into the mess of numbers like it was her duty, only truly taking time away to awkwardly run after the team in early morning P.T., suitably embarrassing herself with each exercise. 

The unruly accounting itched at her more than anything else, felt like mites burrowing down into her psyche, gnawing at the only parts of her brain she really knew how to use. The hours of the day spent buried in the financing felt a lot like university, harked back to her usual days spent holed up in the library, buzzing off of numerous coffees and whatever freebie pastries the societies would try and entice naive students in with. 

Weighted clunks and taps resonated from her steady typing, eyes scanning from screen to paper as she straightened out another accounting statement, the first couple took a lot longer. Lily had a tendency to fixate on the detail, and this book contained many. More and more insight into their world, handhelds and airstrikes, who knew you could pay for such things? Who knew Captain Price even had the connections to do so? 

Obviously, everyone but her. 

The ledger felt like her bible, deciphering the scriptures would lead her through, tell her how to navigate the scathing desert of the 141. She’d repent, sooner or later, to whom she did not know. That felt irrelevant when she was knee-deep in holy water, wading toward the north star. A mirage no doubt, she’d wake soon, find herself stuck in sand. 

The symphony of work halted as another joined the choir, Lily craned her head back, swivelling quickly in her seat as she took in Ghost’s figure filling up her doorway. 

“Got no survival instincts.” Statement dry, Price’s apostles weren’t known for embellishment. He’d been lingering behind her for minutes. 

“God forbid I’m not looking over my shoulder every second.” Caustic comment flew from her as she swiftly returned to the screen, her rapid typing ranking up in hostility with each pointed jab of a key.  

He hovered, glowering down at her hunched position, suspicious of the resolution shown toward some stupid ledger. “Why’d you try stop the bleeding.” 

A question, it was unnatural for him, and so it was barked out as a statement. Rough and demanding, if he was a stray he’d have been put down long ago. Her fingers twitched over the keyboard, hesitant now, shoulders scrunched toward her neck, instinctively covering her jugular. 

“I don’t know.” She breathed out steadily “It just happened.” 

Her back twinged, his unyielding glare boring into her from behind, unwavering pools of darkness consuming each crumb of information she’d unwittingly give to him, every twitch and shift of her body analysed. His lack of response dragged the strain out for much longer than she cared to bear, tiptoes slowly angling her to move around in the chair to face him once more.  

His jaw ticks at her subtle mocking, molars grinding slowly as he chewed through what he’d say. She stares through him like the lieutenant before her was nothing more than numbers, columns on another page she’d itch to organise, decipher and file under ‘completed’. Ghost looks at her much the same, though his dentition of ‘completed’ varied vastly. 

“There’s a delivery for you out front.” 

“Hallelujah, finally, that must be my hanging shoelaces!” 

Clink!

Ruby red swirled around the glasses, liberal pours nearly spilling over as they toasted for the fourth time. Squinty-eyed and wine-flushed, Lily pooled over the carpet whilst Johnny and Kyle lolled haphazardly on her bed, all airy giggles and smiles. 

“Can’t believe Cap’in actually got you everything you asked for.” Another choked laugh leaves Johnny as he rolls onto his front, eyeing up the mess they’d all made unpacking her boxes and packages. Plastic wrapping covered every inch of the floor, kids on Christmas day, it was carnage. Amplified cries carried down the hallway despite her door being closed, over-excited cheers and shouts shaking from the room with each rip of cardboard. 

“I was half joking about most of what I wrote down!” She cackled, unabashed delight clear as the woman gripped her wine in one hand and a pile of new products in the other, practically vibrating as she couldn’t even hold it all, most of the items had been spread around the room, small heaps surrounding the boys as they continued to ogle. 

“What’s this one for?” Kyle held out a black tube, he’d let himself lean into the fever that Soap and Lilith seemed to share whilst unpacking everything. The Brit had to soothe himself at first, loudly proclaiming that he’d stick to watching, that he’d grab a beer soon and leave them to it. 

“That’s mascara, it makes your lashes longer and just, ten times nicer-“ She shuffled toward the bed and took it from him, twisting the wand out and showing him. 

“It’s no fair you didn’t even really want all this.” Soap whined, picking up the package the tube had come from and emptying the rest out onto the bed. “Share?” His pitched query came with a hopeful yet cheeky grin, obviously enamoured with the plethora of shiny new things. 

“I did really want this stuff, just never actually believed he’d get it, was just tryna’ piss John off.” Lily took a heavy swig from her glass, letting the chalky liquid coat her tongue before she swallowed harshly. “I actually feel sort of guilty…” 

Kyle surged forward, shaking his head adamantly, the hard swinging motion making him dizzy for a moment. “Think he’s the one feeling guilty.” 

He suppressed the urge to hiccup, the yen to protect his masculinity faded pretty soon after he’d been roped into the first glass of wine. Soon after that, it felt strangely uplifting to play along, sit cross-legged and paw over products. It helped that Soap was here, though the other seemed so natural, Kyle had always been slightly jealous of Johnny. He fit in everywhere and got on with everyone. Even now, laid across the bed with one of Lily’s new bras clasped over his pyjama shirt, beckoning her over so he could see the mascara. 

It seemed like some abstract rocky-horror slumber party. He was partially thankful just to be involved, used to watching Soap and Ghost saunter off to do whatever they do together, he’d often find himself trailing along after Price like a lost dog. 

Admittedly, despite how deeply selfish he knew it was, the soldier enjoyed visiting Lily in the hospital. A twisted sense of appreciation sprouted from her captivity, enclosed and wanting people on her side. He was happy to oblige, enjoyed the reciprocated companionship even if it was shrouded in exceptional circumstance.   

“Don’t gotta be guilty if you share huh hen, then it’s good for team morale.” Soap balanced his glass precariously on his chest once he flipped onto his back, scooting so his head hung off the bed as Lilith instructed him to close his eyes, both broke into another round of hilarity without a beat, barely able to keep still or serious for a second as she hovered over him with the mascara brandished like a weapon. They had all gotten through quite a bit of wine. Kyle knew better, knew better than to glare at his teammate for getting on with someone. 

But he was drunk, and determined to keep just this one friend. Just this once, he’d be first.

“Do me, do me-“ Kyle almost threw himself down onto the floor, fumbling down with a loud thud before he positioned himself, eyes screwed shut with determination. The flurry only spurred the two on further, howling with laughter as Kyle kept his eyes shut, inching closer and closer to Lilith, drunkenly shimming around. 

“Come here you silly sod.” She guided his head onto her lap, softly coaxing the man to relax his eyes enough so his lashes wouldn’t fold up, delicately drawing the wand through them. “Keep still.” Her voice dropped to a whisper in concentration, he lay smug, happy for the attention. 

“There, now open!” 

It felt slightly heavy on his waterline, almost akin to when their tactical paint clung to his eyes despite several face washes. Eyes flickered from Lily’s face peering down at him then at Soap’s. 

“I think it’s very pretty.” Johnny hummed, nodding down at him.

“You have lovely long lashes, boys always get the nicest lashes, it's unfair.” Lilith peered closer, admiring the way his seemed to curl with the product. Kyle felt strangely timid, the alcohol diluting his usual reactions, quick to open the capillaries in his cheeks to make way for a deep dusting of rouge. It forced him to shrink into her lap, frowning slightly at how vulnerable he felt, the emotion bubbling over so quickly it flustered him. Wanting for some kind of reprieve, the soldier jumped topics, drunken alarms of his disposition drowning out the sound of sense. 

“You’re gonna have a hard time packing all this up by tomorrow.” He drawled, sitting up from her lap and pointedly ignoring the wide-eyed look from Soap. Lily tensed, her body crookedly bent in the shape of a question mark as she cemented into position, eyes drawing forth the same query in which her body folded. The soft lull of music carried on in the background, cushioning the steely silence between the three. 

You and me, always forever. 

Clawing digits centred themselves around the milky column of her wrist, brown eyes doughy with a needy sense of amicable obligation, Kyle preened over the implications of him being so advantageous as to warn Lily of the change. A clear way to solidify his position. 

We can stay alone together.

“By tomorrow?” She lingered, his fingers pulsed around her in anticipation. Johnny faded into the background, his disgruntled whispers to quieten his comrade falling upon death ears. 

“Going away, all of us, chasing a pig back to its pen.”

Chapter Text

Frenzied hands darted to and fro, half-slurred shouts slugged across the room as stumbling feet shuffled between bags. A hectic attempt at preempting the impromptu trip abroad had spiralled into the three drunken fools teetering about, blurred eyes blinking heavily as they shoved whatever items deemed plausible into whatever luggage possible. A mess, it was a mess. 

Throughout the ordeal, she had learned her exposé’s name.  

“Pavel.” Hurled through wined stained lips, explosive disgust emphasising the ‘P’ each time she spat it out. Chanted like some sort of malediction, the others joined, stomping around the room and cursing the man as they helped her pack. 

“I mean, fuck him, right?” She swivelled on her back foot, nearly crashing into Johnny as she tried to face them both, shaky hands grasping onto his forearm in an effort to steady herself. The Scott wrapped a steadying arm around her shoulder, though he was no more stable, both swaying together, attempting to smooth out a dress between them. 

“Sleazy little fuck.” He agreed with all her sentiments wholeheartedly. The second he clapped his eyes on those photos the man felt the distinctive garble of bile rushing up his oesophagus. It plagued him as much as Price and Kyle, perhaps for more selfish reasons, that night all he could think of was his sisters. What if it was their private photos thrown up on screen? What if his sister had been taken from her life, captive to a crime she’d staggered into?

“This one?” Kyle held up a pouch stuffed full of products, half-lidded gaze faltering as he leaned closer to the two, decidedly shoving it into one of the duffle bags before awaiting an answer. He soon latched onto Lily’s other side, arm wrapping atop Soap’s as he cuddled into the others, foreheads butting together with mild amusement. 

“I want to say something, though, I don’t know if it’s allowed.”  An electrified chuckle presses past his lips, and the two draw closer, cheek to cheek with Garrick as they urge him on. 

“Not like that’s stopped you before.” Soap scoffs, biting grin only spurring the other on. He knows what Kyle’s gonna say, the question whirled around his mind at some point too, it was only natural. 

“You gotta tell us now.” Lily nudges her forehead against Garrick’s cheek, humming softly as he laughed aloud, pushing her back in his drunken state. They all swayed as a collective, arms locked around each other as they drew closer by the second, urgently needing to know the secret that tempted to spill. 

“The piercings.” Kyle exasperated, Johnny howled out laughing in response, Lily grinned from ear to ear. It felt like she’d never left university, like she was clinging to two housemates as they pawed over ‘going-out’ tops and drunkenly blazed through social barriers, bonding over embarrassment, wine and illicit piercings. 

“Which ones?” She urged, barely able to keep herself from cackling. Kyle’s gaze flickered down to her breasts and Johnny nearly collapsed them all, veering violently as he threw his head back snorting out his amused delight.  

“You know!” 

Dawn crashed down upon her head so hard it felt like the pitiless blades of sunlight that lacerated her curtains were stabbing her through the atmosphere. Moving seemed a monumental task, so nauseated at the world she’d convinced herself that even gravity felt heavier as she wrenched upright. For a dreadful moment, everything spun, wispy grayscale sparkles smeared across her vision before her body caught up with her movement. Heavy slaps of queasiness prevented any real progress, stuck hunched over on her bed taking small, desperate little breaths. 

Three, hard knocks chimed to the pounding of her headache. It took another round of knocking for her to realise it wasn’t just the war drum of her hangover marching all the alcohol out of her system. A dull, rasped attempt at calling out seemed to die before the door. Vocal cords scorched from a night of cheap wine and shouting. 

The entrance swung open anyhow, his bearish gate filling up the space and assessing the damage, dutiful in the way he combed over her and the room in one long look. She’d expected him to come up with something smart and smug, rub in the fact that she probably looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. He remained quiet, eyes fixated on the neat pile of luggage by his feet. 

“Going somewhere?” With a raised brow, Price stepped over the bags and focused back on Lilith, sucking in a short breath as he watched her try, and fail, to hide a small retch. 

“I know you’re going to follow up on Pavel.” Lilith grumbled, hands slowly grasping at either side of her head as she let out a pained groan. “And that you’re taking me with you.” 

“And so you’ve packed.” His weight shifts, contemplating the situation. Apart from the small pile of bags, everything seemed to be put in its rightful place, clean and tidy. Not a glass nor even a bottle in sight. If it wasn’t for the awful state she was in, he’d have a hard time deducing what happened. 

“You’re a very good alarm clock.” Lilith barely manages a tiny laugh, small huffs forced through before she retreats into another drawn-out groan. Everything hurt. What made it worse was the fact that it was all self-inflicted. 

“You weren’t at P.T., n’ wanted to check in is all.” 

“Thought P.T. was optional.” 

“It’s strongly recommended.” A moment passes and they both chuckle airily. She had come to find that most things with the Captain came ‘strongly recommended’ in other words, ‘you'd better bloody do it’. 

Price remained hovering beside her bed, quietly listening to the general plight of existence that came with waking Lilith. She seemed softer, steeped in the sticky ache of her bad decisions, not fully firing on all cylinders. What puzzled him was the compliance, the packed bags and the lack of lip. Besieged by the forlorn shock of her subdued nature, disbelief mounted at her compliance. It became clear that they would not argue. 

Struck now with the anticlimactic gape in his morning, a chunk of time was carved out of his calendar, devoted to clashing and corralling his captive. He’d anticipated an uphill battle, felt the goosebumps bite at his skin as he stood outside her door. This, her, ready and rough around the edges, was not planned for. Complexion pale, a sickly sheen to her skin, he knew it was just a bad hangover but the desire to cosset her riled within him so urgently it felt like he had taken the fight within himself, absorbing the anticipation and putting it to work against his self-restraint. 

He had the whole morning free. What better than to cavort with his captive instead?

The grip tightened around the bottle he’d brought in with him, intending to use it as some sort of bribe or force her to sober up with it. A cruel, creaky squeal cried from the bed frame as he sat down beside Lilith, shaking his head at the delayed reaction she gave to the high-pitched sound. 

“Ere’ get this down and we’ll try some painkillers.” He breaks the seal on the cap, offering her the gently fizzing electrolyte, sighing deeply as she grimaces at the smell. “C’mon Lilith, love, it can’t be that bad.” 

“Kyle and Johnny, I’m gonna kill them if I ever recover.” Divisive mutters, uttering various curses under her breath as she pushed herself closer toward him, placing her hand atop his and letting the other guide the bottle back to her parted lips. 

“Good girl.” He watches her intently, unconsciously swallowing with her. “Serves you bloody right for getting so drunk.” His grumble delved deeper into his chest. “Dumb and Dumber got their fair share of punishment this morning, nothin’ like a good long sprint to work off the booze ay’.” 

Lilith pulled away and restrained a garbled cough, amused at the thought of Soap and Gaz dragging themselves around the base to the tune of Price’s shouting. The drink swooshed around her body and felt incredibly unsettled, borderline threatening, nausea fighting against her with every deep breath. Shaky hands raked through her hair as she pulled it atop her head messily, soon shuffling across the sheets to settle beside John, resting on his shoulder with a pitiful noise. 

“No use lookin’ for sympathy sweetheart, you did this to yourself.” Despite his chiding, John shifted to wrap his arm around her, drawing her frame closer to himself. 

“Feel sorry for me!” Lilith demanded half joking and half petulant, intention clear as she let her weight fall back, trying and failing to slump back into bed with his arm around her. He only remained upright for so long, as usual, finding it very hard to deny the woman what she asked for. How could he? After all that’s happened, How could he? When the thought of her invading his team, his space, slowly began to shift into something different. Was it an invasion if she was now welcome? Accommodated for? There was a place for her in their base, in their dynamic, in his schedule, in his mind. 

And this morning? Now, by his side. 

John allowed himself to recline back, laying beside her awkwardly at first. Unsettled as he looked straight ahead at the crumbling ceiling, counting the cracks he’d need to fix, adding them to the list of things to do. They had embraced before, it was fleeting and well missed but this was entirely different. Far more intimate. More so than felt natural, for the prolonged minute of quiet that fell between them, the Captain began to question what he was doing. 

“Thank you, by the way, for all the things on the list.” Coy, voice barely above a whisper. She shifted on her side to look at him. “I thought you’d cut at least half of it.” 

John adjusted himself, taking in the timid tones of her voice, surprised to see she almost looked guilty. The depths of his pupils widened, encroaching upon the blue, committing every bump and divot of her visage to memory. It felt imperative as they’d not been this quiet and this close before. The self-conscious cloy vanished with her proximity, enthralled by her presence once again. Though wicked, dishevelled and rough, she still seemed to have a certain allure. 

“Was plannin’ on teasing you for that list.” He huffed. “Must’ve slipped my mind.” John took his opportunity, hedged his bets on the lull of her hangover and the unguarded disposition that came with it. He gently coaxed her closer, the firm hold around her shoulders now drawing her flush to his torso, relaxing even further as Lilith curled into him without protest. It was overindulgent, the comfort gained from feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the weight of her head on his chest. He daren’t begin to console his ever-fretting mind, the gnaw of culpability and duty could not be reasoned with. The longer Lilith stayed, the less he could justify his actions, and the more outrageous his behaviour. 

“So, where are we going then?” She sighed softly, eyes barely fighting off sleep as they blinked slowly, soon resorting to just lightly closing them. 

“Netherlands, tonight, flying commercial.” John began to slowly draw circles against the exposed skin of her arm, slightly bemused at how swiftly she seemed to slip into drifting off. 

“Hm, taking Stockholm syndrome to a new level huh.” Lilith hummed with a sleepy smile. 

“Stockholm, Lilith, is in Sweden.” 

“Fuck.”