Ghost x Female!Reader
••For the sake of a mission, Ghost has to fake his death and make everyone believe it—including you.

"Make it believable. She's not stupid. She can sniff out a lie and compromise the entire mission."

"You know what this will do to her—what she'll turn into."

"I know, but keeping her in the dark is the best course of action. It's the only way to keep her safe and keep her from coming after me."

•
•
•

Dead.

The word rung like church bells in your head. You hadn't believed Price the first time and forced him to repeat himself, hoping there had somehow been a mistake. Only then did it all sink in.

Ghost was dead.

"How..." You croaked, throat clogged with tears, staring desperately at the man who could do nothing but stand there. "How did he die?"

Price lowered his head, eyes foggy with guilt. "We were raiding a compound when there was an explosion. One of the targets detonated a bomb and he was too close." He held out the charred, shattered remains of Ghost's mask in his hands. "This was all we could find."

You took one of the pieces and rubbed your thumb over it, feeling the uneven texture. Fresh tears spilled onto your cheeks as you slowly curled your fingers around it, gripping it in your fist.

This wasn't fair.

Previously, you'd made a bet with Ghost over drinks that if either of you were to die, you would be the first to go. Now you lost the bet and he wasn't here to gloat about it.

"I'm gonna kill all those fuckers, even if it's the last thing I do." You seethed.

"No you won't." Price said, seeing you tense upon hearing his words. "We need you here, Y/N. Recklessly trying to get revenge won't bring him back, and we can't afford to lose you too."

You stood still for a moment, your rigid composure slowly crumbling as the anger died in your chest. Your shoulders shook with silent sobs as tears gathered in your eyes.

Price stepped closer and pulled you into a warm embrace, one hand rubbing circles into your back. You pressed your face into his shoulder, tears staining his shirt as you sobbed.

This didn't feel real. None of it did.

•
•
•

Three days after learning about Ghost's death, you finally got the courage to go in his room.

A week after his death, you started sleeping in his bed, surrounding yourself with the pillows and blankets that still smelled like him. That musky cologne you always said you hated now brought tears to your eyes whenever you smelled it.

Price didn't have the heart to put a stop to it. Not when it was the only thing helping you cope.

At the beginning of the second week, you entered his room just like you had dozens of times before. Everything in the room was untouched, left the way it had been when Ghost was still using it. You'd grown used to the painful silence, though the feeling never truly went away.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you turned on his radio. Soft tunes filled the silence and eased the ache in your chest. Sunlight seeped through the cheap blinds that hung over the window, casting golden slivers across your body. You stared at your feet, just listening to the music for a moment.

After a while, you noticed something in your peripheral vision. An envelope, crisp and yellowed, sticking out from underneath the nightstand. You reached down and pulled it out, brushing the dust from its surface. On the front, your own name—scribbled in Ghost's handwriting—stared back at you.

You wondered how long it had been there, going unnoticed day after day until you finally happened to look down and find it.

An all too familiar twinge of sorrow tugged at your heart. You almost didn't want to open it, fearing what may be inside. You didn't want to reopen the gaping wound that had just begun to heal. Perhaps it was a letter he never intended to send—a letter you weren't supposed to see.

But regardless of that, it was a letter addressed specifically to you. Maybe he somehow knew what was going to happen and decided to leave something behind for you to find.

The thoughts swirling around in your head created a dull throb behind your eyes. You rubbed them and refocused on the letter. Taking a deep breath, you slid your thumb under the seal and carefully tore it open.

What you found wasn't what you were expecting.