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My breath immediately became lodged in my throat, my legs rendered utterly useless. My mouth hung agape, my rifle slipping from my hands and clattering against the metal ground, alerting every single fucking AQ soldier that I was here, standing still with no weapon in hand. Essentially target practice. But I paid no mind, not when my former best friend stood before me, a wicked grin on his face. Wind slapped me from every which way, my footing almost faltering. "Hello Y/n," Blaze hissed under his breath, his voice almost completely drowned out by the loud hail of gun fire intermingled with the heavy rain. My mouth ran dry and I thickly swallowed. It couldn't be him. It just couldn't.

Blaze tsk'd his lips, basking in my fear, giving me a look I had only see a day prior. An evil look, an emotion inscribed on his face that spoke a thousand words: Hate. It was a direct copy of the expression Hassan flashed my way. An expression I never in a million years thought I'd see on Blaze's features. But here he was, defying my odds. "What? No smile for your صديقك الحقيقي الوحيد (only true friend)?" He barked angrily, his voice raising as he spoke in his mother tongue. Loud sounds of footsteps began to approach on our position, AQ or allies? "You'll pay Y/n," Blaze whispered to me, his voice holding promise, "You will." With that, he turned on his heel and ran off behind him, leaving me in shock. 

My eyes remained wide, almost popping straight out of my skull. What in the mother fuck did that mean? Why didn't he just kill me? Why did he look at me like that? With so much hate and resentment? Didn't he want what was best for me? What about the promises he used to make to me? Words he spoke to soothe my nerves, words that held so much care, so much trust, so much platonic love. A bullet whizzing past my arm knocked me back to my senses, my teeth gritted together as a strangled cry fell from my lips. My eyes darted down to the graze on my bicep, fresh blood leaking from the superficial wound. "Fucking fuck," I growled, bending down to retrieve my rifle off the slippery floor. 

My trembling hands made contact with the slick metal of my gun as another bullet whizzed past me, barely missing my head by a mere inch. A loud crack of thunder caused me to jump, my fucking rifle slipping from my grasp and off the rig. Panic. Panic was something I had never truly felt on the battlefield, never had plague my mind when I was in action. Mostly because I didn't care whether I lived or died, it was a trivial concept to me. Life or death situations were never something that kept me up at night, if anything the promise of death lulled me to a blissful sleep. But now here I was, shaking in undeniable panic, watching as my rifle splashed into the raging waters of the ocean beneath me, with an AQ soldier shooting at me from behind. 

Tendrils of fear slowly crept up on me, wrapping around my limbs before clutching at my beating heart, tightening its grip until I felt like I couldn't breathe. A bullet collided into the ground next to my feet, at least the handler of the gun had no aim what-so-fucking-ever. "Y/n, do you copy?" Soap's voice cut through the comms, his Scottish accent slicing through the fear gripping at me, pulling me back into some form of reality. My body ducked down and rolled over as another bullet flew in my direction, firing at where I had stood only moments ago. My hand gripped around my throwing knife as I popped back up just inches away tumbling off the edge of the platform. In one fluid motion, I sent the deadly weapon propelling through the air before it lodged in the throat of the AQ soldier shooting at me, his body falling to his knees as blood sprayed from the diagonal wound.

Not wasting another second, I grabbed another knife off my vest before pounding my feet against the slippery steps of the stairwell up onto the top of the rig. "Y/n? Do you copy?" Soap's voice called out again, his tone holding a bit of alarm. My eyes flitted around the different buildings standing tall before me, control rooms no doubt. "Copy, lost my weapon," I quickly replied as I slowly stalked into one of the buildings, clutching my knife to my chest. "How did y-" Soap's question was immediately cut off my Ghost's British accent overpowering him through the comms. "Find a fucking weapon," he whisper shouted, a loud pop of gunfire echoing through his side of the comms. My lips pulled together, I decided not to reply to him. He doesn't get to decide when or when not he cares. 

Slowly I stepped into a smaller room, my breathing controlled and steady. The panic subsided as I fell into my rhythm, into my element. Soap and Ghost's chatter filled the comms, talking about what rooms they were walking into, what they found, and etcetera. I was about three seconds away from telling them to shut the fuck up or find their own frequency, but I decided against it. Peeking my head around the corner into a different room, two AQ soldiers came into my view. My hand grasped another separate knife from my vest, one in each hand as I crouched down, carefully making my way into where they stood. Before either of them had time to react, I shot upright and threw my weapons into their necks, each of them falling to their knees much like the other neutralized soldier did before their bodies crashed lifelessly to the ground, two loud thuds filling up the otherwise silent atmosphere. 

A loud curse of Arabic sounded out as a third soldier entered the room, his eyes flicking down to the dead soldiers before his gaze immediately darted onto me. In just a second he raised his rifle and sent three shots my way, my body ducked down almost instantly as I rolled to the side, pulling another knife off my vest in the process. My last one. His gunfire followed me as I rotated over the carpet, the bullets narrowly missing my form. My back made contact with a far wall, halting my momentum just long enough for me to throw my knife, but the AQ soldier dodged out of the way just in time. My eyes widened the second I realized I had no other weapons. My gaze watched as the soldiers finger squeezed on the trigger, my instincts yelling at me to duck the hell down. My neck jerked downwards as a bullet flew overtop my head.

My vision darted down to the dead soldiers on the ground, rifles hanging loosely from their cold dead hands, covered in blood. Without a second thought I lunged forward, reaching out for one of them, but the AQ soldier stepped on my hand before I could grasp one, my wrist bone feeling on the verge of snapping. "سوف تموت بسبب خطاياك ضد بلدنا (You will die for your sins against our country)," the soldier growled, aiming his gun at my skull with a sickening smirk. A wide smile formed on my lips, "سوف يموت من أجل خطاياك ضد العالم أنت (You will die for your sins against the world)," I replied before crunching my body at my waist, locking my legs around the soldiers ankles, swiping them forward, sending him crashing to the ground next to me. 

His eyes widened as he aimed his gun at my head again, my hand shot out just in time, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and aiming it into the ceiling as he squeezed the trigger. The plaster above us flaked onto our bodies as we struggled against one another. My other hand grabbed the barrel as well, doing my best to yank it from his grasp. The soldier capitalized on my position as he shot his hand to my neck, gripping it harshly, cutting off my air supply. My holding on the gun faltered as blood rushed to my head, my eyes widening as I sputtered for breath. Letting go of the gun with one hand, I attempted to loosen his grip from my neck resulting in his other hand to grip onto my tender flesh as well. My vision began to blacken as I wheezed, my efforts to free myself from his grasp becoming weaker. 

My head lolled downwards, I was moments away from falling unconscious, I knew that for certain. My gaze lazily looked at the rifle, untouched by the soldier as both of his hands remained around my neck. Bingo. Using the last of my strength, I launched my knee forward, nailing the AQ soldier in the groin. A pained cry fell from his lips, his grasp around me faltering just long enough that a strangled breath managed to enter my lips. My fingers interlocked around the gun as I whacked him over the head with it, blood spurted from his now broken nose, his grip loosening enough for me to slip from it. With blurry vision I staggered back and aimed the rifle at his head, a weakened smile making its way to my mouth, "حرق في الجحيم (Burn in hell)," I panted before squeezing the trigger, the soldier's head snapping back as life left him. 

Gasping inhales burned my lungs as I coughed viciously, probably alerting other soldiers with the loud, hacking noises. My shaking hands grasped the stock of the rifle tighter, trying to ground myself once again. Shaking my head, I stumbled upright, holding the gun defensively as I made my way out of the room. My neck was extremely tender, I was sure there'd be ugly fucking bruises forming soon. Graves' voice cut through the comms, "We need to move fast," he urgently spoke, his annoying accent almost making me wish I had died. "All Shadows force out! I want eyes on that container," he ordered before his comms fell silent. My feet stumbled beneath me as I stepped back into the outside of the rig, rain slapping against me.

My eyes darted over to the sound of gunfire, my legs moving beneath me, bringing me to the source. Any unsuspecting soldier that got in my way was instantly gunned down, their bodies tumbling to the ground as blood poured from the new wounds. Above me a flare was sent off into the sky, the red hues filling my blurred vision. I'm no flare-ologist but I know that probably wasn't a good sign. As I clicked my comms to ask what the fuck the flare meant, Ghost's voice cut through. "Shadow-1, Ghost--" as if that wasn't obvious "--visual on flares coming from the rig! What's your status, over." Soap instantly replied, "Ghost, they're signaling the ship, they're gonna launch that missile!" 

Gunfire sounded off all around me, my eyes just barely catching glimpse of Soap who was currently mowing soldiers down like no tomorrow. Running up to him, I sent a bullet into an AQ soldier running at him from the side. "All Shadows, all Shadows, missile is on the helipad," Graves shouted through the comms, the octave of his voice making my ears ring. Soap glanced over at me, his eyes widening as he rushed to where I stood. "Steamin' Jesus," he whispered, his gaze falling down to my neck, "You definitely pissed someone off." A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, "You should see the other guy," I hoarsely replied, my throat screaming in pain. Soap shook his head with a grin. "Duck," I hastily stated, the second his head bobbed down I shot into the AQ soldier running up behind him with lethal accuracy. 

Soap patted my back and nodded his head in the direction of the helipad before running off, me quickly following behind him. We ran through different rooms, killing every AQ soldier in our vicinity, most of them having no idea what hit them before it did. My eyes fell on a deep blue shipping container, rain battering down on it. Graves met up with us, his eyes narrowing down at me before they fell on my neck, a smirk forming on his face. A snarl made its way to my features as I was left debating whether or not I could kill him and chalk it up to an accident without being imprisoned for the rest of my life. My train of thought was cut short as Soap pulled open the doors to the container, his eyes widening as his head snapped in Graves' direction.

My lips pulled to the side as I looked into the container myself, my eyes widening much like Soap's did. Empty. Graves also walked over and looked inside, his hands dropping to his sides as he sighed deeply. "Where are the controls?" Soap asked, his voice dark and slightly confused. "On that damn ship," Graves groaned, his voice raising at the end of his sentence as he walked over to the edge of the rig, perfect pushing position. Just one small shove, I'm sure I could explain that. "Actual, we got a problem, missile is armed--controls are somewhere on the ship," Graves spoke into his comms. "You have your orders son, stop that launch," General Shepherd angrily replied. 

Graves nodded and looked over at Soap and me, "You guys are with me, let's get on that ship," he ordered before quickly walking off. My eyebrows furrowed, something told me I needed to stay, deep down in the bottom of my stomach. My gaze flitted over to where Alejandro stood, just now realizing he was here. "You should go, I'll take overwatch," I replied, not moving from where I stood on the platform. Soap looked between us and nodded, "Let's go hermano." Alejandro walked up to me and smiled, "Good luck hermosa," he stated before following Soap away from me, quickly catching up to Graves. 

The second they left my eyeshot, I returned my gaze back down at the large ship floating in front of me, the sides shaking as enormous waves crashed into it. Peering through the scope of my rifle I began to mindlessly shoot at any silhouettes I could see, watching as their bodies fell to the floor, their pools of blood being washed away by the heavy rain. My eyes widened as Soap, Graves, and Alejandro's boat crashed into the side of the ship, the vehicle tipping over as they hopped out of it. To say it was incredibly difficult to make out their tiny bodies hidden behind gushes of heavy rain would be a fucking understatement. But I did my best, still firing at any threats I could make out as they ran to the control room. 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, a horrible feeling plaguing my thoughts, wracking my body with unease and uncertainty. I kept telling myself it was just nerves, that maybe I was just worried about falling off the platform to my untimely death. But something else was gnawing at my mind, something I couldn't quite grasp. My rifle remained aimed at the ship, but it was proving to become increasingly difficult to take out the AQ soldiers as the rain continued to pick up. Anytime I heard any movement behind me, my head whipped around as my finger pulled the trigger, any and all threats were immediately taken out. But still, there was this feeling I just could not shake for the life of me. 

An ear piercing yell through the comms caught my attention, Soap's voice sounding out quickly and loudly, "All stations clear the rig now! I say again, clear the rig!" My eyes widened as my legs shot upwards from my crouching position, my feet working quickly beneath me. The terrible feeling in my stomach only continuing to grow as I sprinted agilely through different rooms, leaping over dead bodies. And then it hit me, it hit me like a freight train going a hundred miles an hour. My fingers nervously clicked a button on my comms, my words almost getting caught in my throat, "Ghost what's your status?" I called out, my voice shaking. No answer. "Ghost do you copy?" I desperately asked, my head beginning to spin. 

Soap's voice immediately sounded out through the static of the comms again, "Get off the fuckin' rig! One minute!" He yelled, his voice growing more panicked with each word he spoke. Slinging the rifle over my shoulder, I busted through the different rooms, not giving a single fuck that I was unarmed. "Ghost do you copy? WHERE ARE YOU!" I screamed through my earpiece, my entire body shaking. My boots pounded against the puddles of blood and rain water as I weaved in and out of different rooms, my heart getting caught in my throat. Tears brimmed my eyes, I wasn't going to leave him. I couldn't leave him. No matter how much of an asshole he was, no matter how much he hurt me, because deep, deep down, I knew he cared.

The mechanical sounds of the missile filled my ears, the whirring of the container opening up reverberated throughout the entirety of the rig. There was too many rooms, and too little fucking time. "Y/N YOU NEED TO GET OFF THE RIG! FOURTY-FIVE SECONDS!" Soap screamed, his voice sounding like it was almost getting choked up. Not without Ghost, not without him. Not over my dead fucking body. My shoulder crashed through different doors, my wide panicked eyes darting around every room I stormed into before moving to the next one. "Please Ghost," I whispered, my voice beginning to waver, "Where are you?" A singular tear rolled down my cheek as the unmistakeable noise of the missile humming to life filled my ears. 

Just as I was about to accept my fate, death by fucking missile, I heard a voice. A voice that made all the air in my lungs disappear, a voice that I once found solace in, but now there was none. Blaze's voice. And a part of me knew, just knew, that I would find Ghost with it. The promise he made to me only a little bit ago. That I would pay. He knew how to hurt me, he knew me better than I knew myself. He knew I didn't care for my life, but I cared about other's. "Your one true friend" he had told me. Even he could see now that was a crock of bullshit. The only thing he could do make that true, to break me, would be to take away the person I had grown to care about, the person to take his place, the person I started to love. And he knew, he fucking knew, I wouldn't leave without him. So, he was going to make me pay. The ultimate price. The cost of love. Of leaving the AQ. Of becoming a better person. Of betrayal.

Not on my watch. Not if I had something to say about it. My boots quietly echoed down the barren corridor I sprinted through, deep, crimson blood painting the walls and floor as I got closer and closer to the sound of hushed words. My heart raced in my chest, my breathing becoming unsteady, uneven. Panicked. My feet planted directly to the side of the open doorway, tears streaming down my face. "She hasn't even told you, has she?" Blaze's voice echoed through the small room, my eyes widening at that statement. A statement that could absolutely ruin me. Ruin everything I had built up and grown to truly, truly love. "Please, no," I whispered softly to myself, my voice beginning to waver.

"TWENTY SECONDS, GET OFF THAT FUCKING SHIP NOW!" Alejandro screamed through the comms, in the background I could hear Soap's frantic yelling and Graves' quick replies, not being able to make out the words. My fingers clutched my rifle tighter as I peeked through the doorway, my eyes widening as pure fear washed over my body. My mouth ran dry as I held up my gun, stalking into the room, my feet moved but I couldn't feel them, my breathing sped up but I couldn't hear it, not with the scene before me. Not with Ghost sitting on his knees, hands held above his head while Blaze stood tall before him, aiming his gun at Ghost's skull with that same, sickening, evil fucking smile he had shown me. Both pair of eyes looked over at me, Ghost's holding alarm, Blaze's holding amusement. I aimed my rifle. 

A choice.