Ghost's POV 

(...One month later)

Word count: 1.7k

Cradling the crystal glass in my gloved hand, I stared aimlessly into the amber liquid as I sloshed it around. Turning my wrist in a circular motion, over and over. The golden brown elixir swirled and twirled in its glass encasing, clinging momentarily to the sides of it before cascading back into a pool at the base. 

Anger bubbled in my veins, blinding my vision as pure rage washed over me once again. A feeling I'd grown quite familiar with. My grip on the glass tightened, beginning to vibrate it with a volatile intensity as my thoughts wandered to Y/n. It's been a month now. One. Bloody. Fucking. Month. My jaw clenched underneath my mask as my fingers pressed against the crystalline figure in my grasp with even more force, small cracks forming around my fingertips. One month without Y/n. Without my fuckin' girl. 

With a loud roar, I sent the glass flying into the nearest wall, smashing it into thousands of shards that poured like rain against the wooded floor. Three other broken glasses had met the same fate earlier, my rage barely contained by the alcohol running through my bloodstream.

Soap, Price, Gaz, even fucking Laswell told me she was gone, that I should give up hope. They even held a bloody funeral in her honor. A funeral for my girl who I know is alive and well goddamnit. Needless to say, I didn't fuckin' attend.

When Laswell had told me Y/n was innocent after I watched her fall... fall for so long. Only for her to splat against the ground like a kid's forgotten ice cream on top of a cone sent me spiraling. She had told me she was innocent, begged me to believe her, and I didn't fucking listen. Nobody fucking listened. Shaking my head, I grasped the bottle of bourbon on the counter next to me, pulling the mask up to my nose, I began to down it. 

One gulp.

Two.

Three.

Four.

My eyes lit ablaze with fury as I ripped the bottle from my scarred lips and smashed it against the counter, pulling my black balaclava back down to my chin. The amber liquid inside splashed across my crinkled, stained shirt, the dented counter, the dirtied floor, the walls, and the ceiling. My fingers interlocked around the wooden chair, the closest thing in my reach, before that too was flung into a wall. The drywall splintering as the furniture broke apart against it. 

This was all my fault. If I had just believed her, if I had shot Hassan when I had the chance, if I had radioed into the goddamned helicopter, if I had done anything, she would be here with me right now. With her squad, her family. What if she'll never forgive us? Me? That thought alone led to the demise of another piece of furniture, grabbing the attention of a few other soldiers. My vision was red as I sent my fist into a wall, over and over. Growls and shouts of unintelligible curses spewed from my mouth as rage took full control over me.

Two arms wrapped themselves tightly around my chest, the mouth attached to whoever unlucky bastard who dared touch me screamed in my ear. A loud laugh ripped from my throat as I spun around and sent my boot into some random soldier's chest, his body flying into a wall, denting it. With two strides, I was on top of the fucker, sending punch after punch after punch into their face, blood splattering against my mask, bones breaking beneath my gloved knuckles. More soldiers filed into the room, attempting to restrain me.

There was only one person who'd be able to. She wasn't fucking here.

Don't they understand? The world will burn until I find her.

Anyone who said otherwise became a hostile in my eyes that had long since been clouded by rage.

Soap and Gaz sprinted into the room, eyes widening at the destruction I had caused, though they should've been fucking used to it by now. As they quickly ran at me, I was wrestling three or four soldiers to the ground, my arms propelling my bloodied gloves into any fucker that said anything other than "I found her". 

Before I could react, they both tackled me to the floor, my muscles rippling and writhing beneath their bodies. Truly, I didn't want to hurt them, but all rationality had left me the moment I was told Y/n's body was never recovered. "L.T. CALM THE FUCK DOWN!" Soap screamed in my direction as he gripped my arms and slammed them into the ground with force. Dark circles encased his tired eyes, probably exhausted with my shit. 

He hadn't seen anything yet.

Gaz took hold of my legs as I attempted to kick my way out of Soap's tight lock. Loud shouts of anger bubbled in my sore throat as I demanded them to get off of me. I was their fucking Lieutenant for Christ sake. "SIMON-" Gaz began to yell as he locked his arms around my ankles, narrowly avoiding my boots aimed at his face "-YOU'LL NEVER FIND HER IF YOU ACT LIKE THIS!" His eyes were wide, pleading with me to just listen.

I knew he was right. No amount of broken furniture or beaten-to-a-pulp soldiers would get me to where I needed to be: with Y/n. The fight once running rampant in my veins began to drain from my over-exerted body, my arms falling loosely in Soap's grip, my legs meeting the same fate in Gaz's. My bloodshot eyes glanced around the room, every soldier staring at me like I was the devil himself.

Gaz and Soap held on to me for a moment longer, glancing at each with tight lips and exhausted features before slowly releasing me, hardly confident I wouldn't lash out again. This rage, the pure anger once dormant inside of me, was something I never expected would resurface back to life. It was something I believed became snuffed out since I set my childhood home into flames, stole that bastards tags, became Ghost. But love... love is dangerous. And it is the thing that is slowly destroying me.

I couldn't lose her too. 

Soap parted his lips to speak, gaining my attention immediately, but his lips closed just as fast. Nervousness slowly crept its way into his eyes, my heart clenching just like my fists. Was it information on Y/n? Had they found her body? Was she...? Soap gripped my arms again tightly. My lips pressed together as my thoughts of Y/n retreated, not even realizing my balled fists were shaking, begging to slam into something or someone. 

"Listen..." Gaz mumbled, his hands beginning to wrap around my ankles. Panic seized my lungs with tight tendrils when I realized whatever the fuck they had to say wasn't good. Their grasps on my limbs testaments to my theory. Soap and Gaz shared a fleeting glance at one another for a second time, my heart lodging in the base of my throat. Their silence was deafening. "Spit. It. Bloody. OUT!" I roared, my voice slightly wavering.

Soap gripped my arms and sighed deeply, his eyes narrowing down at me. "You gotta be calm, a'right?" That was fucking laughable, but, I needed to know whether it killed me or not. All I could offer was a nod and grunt, not trusting the words that would fall from my lips. Soap nodded in return, "This is probably only temporary, okay?"

"We have a new recruit who will take on the role Y/n had."

My lids blinked. Once, twice, three times. My teeth bared underneath my mask as the world turned red, blurred at its sides. "Fuck..." Gaz mumbled quietly. My breathing sped up, becoming a rhythmic growl, escaping through my gritted teeth, a distant rumble to the impending storm. Quickly I became the embodiment of rage. Rage that has never seen the light of day, rage that even surprised me. "The-" my voice cracked underneath the weight of my inner turmoil "-did you just say?"

Soap opened his mouth, the words leaving his mouth falling on my deaf ears.

The caged animal burrowed inside of me ripped free of its constraints like a force of fucking nature. The muscles of my arms and legs tightened as I shouted profanities, desperately trying to break free of their grasps. My entirety writhed and shook as if Soap's words were apart of some sort of goddamn exorcism. My soul leaving my body, the humanity I had slowly breaking out of my physical being, falling straight down to hell.

"BULLSHIT! FUCK- FUCK THAT!" I roared thunderously, my voice reverberating off the walls, shaking them like an earthquake. Soldiers quickly filed out of the room, almost toppling over each other, not wanting to become an outlet of my uncontained anger. "PRICE- WHERE THE FUCK IS PRICE!" I shouted, my words erupting like molten lava, scorching everything in its path. 

My body broke free of Soap and Gaz's grasps, their shouts at me to calm down filtering through my ears like water, washing away from my brain. My heart pulsed wildly beneath my ribcage, almost breaking free from the bones. 

My feet pounded into the ground as I sprinted toward Price's office, that bastard. Soldiers parted like the red sea, as if I was Moses incarnate. Though what I had planned was anything but holy. Small gasps left my throat as I stormed the compound, barreling through hallways, in and out of random buildings, stomping through the courtyard, Soap and Gaz's warnings following me was soon drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears.

Breaking down Price's door, my mouth parted to shout before my rage became redirected onto the seat across from where Price sat, a wooden desk separating his tensed form from the recruit sitting across from him. Price quickly stood up and wrapped his arms around me, yelling in my ear as Soap and Gaz breathlessly ran into the room, their breathing coming out in short gasps between whatever the fuck they had to say.

The recruit smiled at me, "What a warm welcome. My name is Emma."

The world will burn.