The Bullet's Mark (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction)

Chapter 25

    "Ouch," I gritted out as I tried to keep my body, mostly my arm, still. 
    "I'm almost done," Nikolai promised as he dug out the bullet from my arm. 
    I looked away from his bloody and messy work, taking another swig of whiskey for the pain. Price was across the room, looking at intel as he processed what I'd explained to him: Makarov was still alive and I'd failed.
    My gaze shifted around, growing somber as I remembered how arriving had been. I had expected to hear a snarky, sarcastic remark from Roach. Something along the lines of him playfully belittling me for getting hurt while questioning my sanity for going out there alone...that sounded like him. 
    My heart grew achy upon thinking of the young soldier. His very presence didn't only lighten the mood but it had always brought a sort of peace for everyone. Now that it was gone I felt a little at loss for a motivator, a reason to keep fighting besides trying to just get things over with in regard to Makarov. 
    "We need to get back out there," I mentioned for a second time to Price. 
    His impatient eyes snapped to me. "Working on it." 
    "Makarov should be our main focus," I urged, feeling Nikolai finish up on the stitching my wound. "If we wait even one more day he could—" 
    "You don't think I understand that? That I'm not already focused on that?" Price snapped, glaring my way. "There are already plays in motion Samantha. Maybe you would understand that if you slowed down with the solo acts and reckless missions." 
    "Don't you dare call what I did—" 
    "Reckless? Stupid?" Price spat out, facing me as got off the table and closed the distance between us. "That 'mission' of yours got us nowhere and you hurt!" 
    He'd kept a cooler head through it all, but I could tell Price was reaching his limit. And I was pushing it even further. I glared at him, my fists clenching.
    "It got me more information. It got me somewhere." 
    "Again with the solo act," Price spat, rolling his eyes. "We are a team Sam. That means we do shit together and anything that comes out of it affects all of us as well." 
    I stayed silent, eyes straying over to where Soap and Yuri were coming back in from unloading some supplies. Soap's gaze stuck to me like glue as I returned to the conversation with Price. 
    "What did you find out?" Price continued, releasing a breath as if to control his temper. 
    "It only falls under the 'solo' act," I mocked and pushed by him. 
    Price clutched my good arm, stopping me before I could fully make it past. "It's something with Blackjack isn't it?" 
    It didn't surprise me he knew. 
    "I've seen that look before," Price continued. "Sam, whatever Makarov told you...we'll figure it out but the first thing is completing the mission." 
    I clenched my jaw and looked over to where Soap was fully engaged in the conversation. His blue eyes were traveling between Price and I as he contemplated the conversation. I only sighed and shook out of Price's grasp. 
    "I'll be upstairs." 
    I left the three men downstairs as I reached the second floor. Quietly, I prepared for a shower, grabbing clothing, toiletries, and a towel as I went in the bathroom. My hands were grimy and I examined myself in the sports bra I wore in the old mirror as I rinsed my hands. My cheeks were reddened by the whipping wind earlier and the tussle with fire had left me with bits of ash in my hair.
    Moving away from the mirror I started the water, allowing it to warm up while I stripped down. I shoved my clothes to the side and stepped in, holding back a moan of contentment as the hot water hit my skin. My mind left the bathroom as I recollected the events on my shoulders. 
    Blackjack being alive meant there was one more person I needed to kill before I died. The bastard was almost just as horrible as Makarov, just not exactly Russian. However, on the list of to-be-killed Makarov obviously ranked higher. He was the more imminent threat; without him in the picture the war going on would be easier to negotiate. Our names would be cleared, the task force potentially no longer disavowed. 
    A cool hand interrupted my thought process as I came back to the shower at hand. I sank against the wall even more, feeling Soap's fingers travel to my navel. He kissed the base of my neck, running a second hand down the back of my head. I pushed off the wall, standing on my own two feet. 
    "I didn't hear you come in," my voice was rough. 
    "I figured," Soap paused. "You were deep in your head." 
    "Unfortunately," I swallowed. "I'm surprised you're in here." 
    "The other two went into town for a few more supplies...I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday," he murmured, kissing my shoulder a couple of times. "I shouldn't have said what I did." 
    "You're not the only one at fault," I couldn't help but allow the hot water to attack another part of my body as I turned to face him. 
    "Can you do me a favor?" Soap's hair was darker when it was wet and he brushed my soaked strands away from my face, a small smile twitching at the corner of his eyes.
    "Depends." 
    "Just try to enjoy this shower. Allow the water to soak away some of what's happened recently," Soap's thumb stroked my jaw. 
    "I may need some help with that," I took a deep breath, allowing my mind to sink into the moment and it only. 
    Soap's lips turned into a rare smile and I found myself doing the same. I leaned up on my tip-toes and closed the distance between our mouths, allowing the warmth of the shower to seal the moment. 
    I felt Soap's hands grip my hips, driving me back into the cool wall as he continued to kiss me. My eyes opened and I gently pulled away from him, a tingling feeling I hadn't known in years rushing through my gut. I clasped the side of his face, admiring everything about his face; it'd been a while since I'd been able to truly see him. 
    "I love you." 
    Soap sucked in a breath. "I love you too Samantha." 
    Our lips met again and this time I knew it was going to be a while before they released.