In her dreams, Rora felt untouchable.

Usually, her dreams consisted of fragments of the past, the constant tossing and turning occasionally interrupting her dreams. The only ones that seemed unescapable were the nightmares.

And her nightmares were about the only man she have ever loved.

When she was seventeen years old fresh, ready to hate on the world with all her being, flipping off every male that dared to glance her way, she met Everett Saunders.

Seemingly, they were perfect for each other. Two angry teenagers, wishing to change the world, run away from all their problems and hide away on a little island where nobody could bother them, ever again. From the stolen glances to the steamy nights there was nothing that could come between them. It was just the two of them, against the whole fucking world.

Until Everett started looking into drugs. And after that, nothing was the same.

Her mind decided that it was only fair to punish her with one of her most painful memories of him. The night when they committed their ever first robbery.

It was a mildly cold night in October when they attended one of their friend's birthday party, but the duo got bored easily. They were perfect for each other: just as one of them thought about something, the other seemed to do the same, often not needing words to communicate their thoughts. And just as they sat on the stairs leading up to the front door, it looked like they were thinking about the same thing again.

„Do you want to do something fun?" Everett asked, his eyes hanging upon the night sky above. She took a moment to look at his side profile, just admiring him: his messily tousled brown hair, the slightly crooked nose from all the fighting, his soft lips, his chiseled jaw.

Noticing her lack of response, he flicked his eyes from the stars to her eyes, ocean meeting with earth. She never saw such beautiful brown eyes like his, and he never saw anything that could come close to the beauty her crystal blue eyes held. And for a moment, they just held each other's gaze.

„I'm always fun," was her answer, earning a light chuckle from him.

„But I can't do you now, baby," came his low answer, goosebumps appearing on her skin along with a light blush. No boy could make her blush, other than him.

„Shut up," she punched his shoulder, earning a full laugh from him this time. She only rolled her eyes at him, trying to hide the blush behind her hair. „What else do you have in mind?"

His eyes focused back on the night sky, her gaze following his. Because of the light pollution, and because the party took place in the Bronx, New York, the stars in the sky were pretty hard to see, but she still found them beautiful. One of their dreams was to live on a small island, preferably just the two of them, so they could just be next to each other with no clothes, enjoying the sun and the sea. And in the night, they could lay under the stars, getting lost in the infinity of space, talking about sweet nothings.

When she looked into his eyes, she could see the stars she sought to see so badly, shining brighter than anything else in the universe. Next to the otherwordly shine, there glistened something else: that something else being the desire to do something illegal.

With that, he reached into the pocket of his beat-up leather jacket, which was always a little too big on him, pulling out some fabrics. It was two bandanas, one of them a plain white one, the other a black one with a skull printed on it.

„Have you ever robbed a store?"

And the way the two teenagers smiled at each other, they knew that they were going to be the next Bonnie and Clyde.

°•○●⸸●○•°

Rora woke up with a groan erupting from her throat, feeling just as exhausted as she felt when she went to sleep. She was a light sleeper before, but after what happened to Everett, she just didn't seem to find any peace in sleeping.

Sleeping was such a burden to her, she hated it. She hated it with the burning passion of a thousand suns, mostly because her demons came to her in the form of dreams and nightmares, leaving her more and more heartbroken after each time.

She sat up in her bed, pulling her knees to her chest, wiping away the stupid tear that dared to flow down her cheek, leaving a trail behind it. For a few minutes, she just stared off in the dark, her thoughts whirling around Everett, and how things could've been different if one of his stupid friends didn't introduce him to heroin.

The thought of maybe getting their happy ending was more painful than accepting the fact that they had no chance of reaching it.

Rora glanced at the watch on her nightstand, reading 05:10 am sharp. A defeated sight left her lips, already knowing that there was no chance she could get any more sleep, so she got up to get ready for a walk.

After everything happened, she found comfort in late-night or really early walks, when it felt like there was nobody else left in the world, just her. She brushed her teeth, pulled a pair of shorts over her legs, and threw an oversized jumper over it. In the mirror hanging over the sink, her eyes caught glimpse of a single strand of platinum white hair on the back of her neck, hidden by the luscious dark brown, almost black strands. In her last unit, they didn't appreciate her having that platinum strand, but she was adamant about keeping it: after all, Everett was the one who decided it would look badass on her. So she kept it long after he was gone, too.

Rora decided that she would let her hair fall loose on her shoulders, it reached almost to the middle of her back. It was almost too long for her liking, she took a mental note to cut it some other day. But not today. Her only goal for the day was to survive and pretend that she was above everything like she was bulletproof. A heart made of diamond.

She pulled off the extra lock from the door, one she purchased just before she joined Task Force 141, not leaving room for another accident to happen, like the last time. The memory left her cold and numb, so instead of letting her demons to drag her down, she pulled the door open, revealing a dimly lit hallway.

She wasn't sure when the other soldiers would be getting up, but she was sure that she still had at least half an hour for herself, to look around the base. On her way out, she stubbed her toe in the door, her shoe not really dulling the hit as she let out a hiss.

„Fucking stupid ass door," she cursed, kicking the door one more time, this time on purpose. It was a little louder than she intended, but quickly locking it, she was already strolling down the hallway.

Her steps were as silent as a jaguar's, her ears searching for any motion that would say she woke up somebody with her hot temper, but there was none. You could hear a pin drop and it would be loud as a bomb.

Reaching the corridor when she remembered seeing a door that lead outside, she was ready to let out a relieved sigh, when she heard a door unlock behind her.

It was the one directly across hers, but she was already out of sight, not catching a glimpse of who was the poor bastard she had just woken up.

°•○●⸸●○•°

„Is this necessary?" Ghost asked, standing in the meeting room.

„It is," came the answer from Laswell, and even though he couldn't see her, he was sure that she had one of the most serious looks on her face.

When she requested him to phone her when he was available without anyone around, he thought that maybe she had some plan for how to catch Hassan, or she had some lead on the missiles she wanted to discuss with him before the others, but no.

It was about his sergeant, Aurora Wells.

„Any reasons?" Ghost fought off the urge to sigh, placing his palms on the table as he listened to her. When there was a few moments of silence on her end, he knew there must be a heavy reason for her request.

„Let's say it's for her safety," Laswell gave the brief answer, her voice a little more cold and distant than before.

He knew when not to push things, and to be honest, he didn't even care enough to ask any more questions. That was not his duty - it was to listen to orders. And that order now was that he should provide a room to Aurora, preferably further away from the other men, a closer proximity to him, so he could keep an eye on her if anything would happen.

He heard stories before when male soldiers would rape women in their squad, but he doubted that his men would do such things. But either way, he didn't argue. It was an order, so he carried it out just as Laswell has requested.

Chattering hit his ears, his eyes flicking towards the slightly open door. Outside, he could see Soap and Wells talking, and taking a closer look at her body language, he was positive in stating that she wasn't uncomfortable.

„Consider it done," came his answer, not taking his eyes off the duo. If Laswell was worried about her, she must have a good reason, because as he saw so far, Wells was more than good enough in taking care of herself.

But all of them had scars that didn't heal properly, after all.

„Thank you, Ghost," and without another word, the call ended.

°•○●⸸●○•°

When he heard the cursing of the young woman, he thought about two possible cases.

One being, that maybe he didn't know his men that well, and Laswell was right and one of them tried to sneak into her room maybe. But he was sure that if that was the case, she would be already dragging a dead body behind her.

And the other case, that much like he, she didn't get a good night's sleep and was pretty clumsy in her half-asleep state. Probably bumped into something.

But just in case the former was true, he quickly pulled his balaclava over his face, making his way toward the door to check on whatever was happening in this ungodly hour.

Usually, he would wake up around this time to go for a morning run, but as he opened his door, seeing her figure walking to the exit he would take, he decided he could pass on this opportunity. He liked his privacy and preferred to be left alone. The little information he had on Aurora Wells said the exact same thing, and even though he promised Laswell that he would keep an eye on her, he gave her some space.

But if she wouldn't turn up in half an hour, he would go look for her. And there was not one place he could not find her.

°•○●⸸●○•°

A loud knock on her door made her jump, interrupting the process of lacing up her boots. It was more like a banging, and for a moment she was afraid the door would give under the force.

„Wells!" called a deep voice, it coming through strongly despite a door and plenty of space separating them. The British accent was a dead giveaway of who could it be, her sudden panic decreasing severly. At least it wasn't some random ass man banging on her door. „Meeting in the conference room in ten."

„Yes, sir," she replied, not sure that he heard it, but the sound of his fading footsteps told that he didn't bother to elaborate on things further.

She just got back from her walk ten minutes ago. Rora didn't go too far, she didn't want to run into someone by accident, and she decided that 20 minutes out in the chilly air of dawn was more than enough for her body and mind to come to their senses.

Pulling her hair into a tight bun, she strolled down the hallway to the room they were about to start a meeting, the shadows of her nightmare still clinging to her skin slightly.

Stepping into the conference room, her eyes scanned the scene unfolding before her eyes. There was a big screen set up with a few maps, names bombarded all over the place, and multiple pictures of military units she haven't seen before. Soap already took a seat at one of the nearby seats, greeting her with a small nod and a slight smile on his face. She forced a similar smile on her lips, but when she saw an all too familiar shadow lingering in the corner, her smile faded, her eyes loosing its shine a little.

There stood Ghost, next to the door in the corner, almost like he was guarding the door. That mask made her heart skip a beat, but she forced herself to look into his eyes and give him a nod of acknowledgment, him mirroring the gesture.

It wasn't much, but it was still better than him threatening her to throw her out of a fucking heli.

Rora placed herself down on the seat furthest away from Ghost, keeping her eyes on the big screen before them as Laswell and General Sheperd told them briefly what the plan was. While listening to the information, out of habit she pulled out a lighter from the pocket of her pants, flipping it in her hands subconsciously. Her eyes followed the way the fire came to life, quickly putting it out by clicking the lighter back.

It caught both of the men's attention, Soap briefly glancing her way while Ghost observed her every move. She was fidgety, almost like she was nervous, and it made him wonder if anything happened that upset her. If it was distracting her from their mission, he had to solve it. She could be in her thoughts for all he cared until it didn't mess with their mission.

When they were done, Soap was still looking at the information displayed in front of them, Rora being the first to dart towards the door. Ghost stepped away, letting her go ahead to the door, catching a glimpse of the fleeting flame in her right hand.

On her way out, she noticed the way he was staring at her, catching the way his eyes lingered on the lighter in her hand. A sharp smirk slipped on her lips.

„Don't worry, Lt., I won't burn you."

Only if they knew that both of them going to crash and burn, each of them setting the other on fire.