13

4.6K 142 11
                                    

Over time as the 141 got back into the routine of things, slowly and one by one the boys began to notice some differences in Tina. Ghost was the first to clock it ever since the night she had come back.

She was quieter, keeping to herself more often than not. They knew she enjoyed her own company most of the time but this was somehow different. Even in a room full of people she was disjointed, joining in less and less. She was sadder and always tired. She could deny it but it was all in her eyes.

The bruises underneath them, the dullness.

They knew after the ordeals she had been through that she would be different afterwards. But they had no real idea as to the details of what had been done to her - only the scars and wounds they had seen upon finding her had been their insight - but she refused to speak about it. They didn't know the extent. They expected her to be different for a while, but not like this.

Soap was the second to notice it, then the rest. Price had had his suspicions but didn't want to believe it.

Tina had always joined in on their banter, their jokes and antics on jobs or back at base. Now she only spoke when she was addressed or when necessary, often swept up in her own thoughts. Hearing her soft voice became few and far between to the point some of the boys made an effort to tell her jokes, just to see if they could get her to smile or laugh. Whether they were in the thick of a job or not, it became a silent agreement amongst Soap and Gaz that, to their dismay, hadn't much worked.

Secretly she did enjoy listening to their idiocy and bickering, but after a while, talking had become a chore; sometimes she still felt that barbed wire around her neck and choked on the weight of her words.

All Tina cared about was that her skills were still as sharp as before. She didn't need to become useless all of a sudden.

Even if it took a fraction of a second longer to steady her aim with her gun, even if the pressure of using her hands to climb into narrow and high up spaces to stay hidden and just as deadly, hurt. Even if the cold snow seeping in through her clothes and gear made her feel sick.

She was still just as good at what she did.

Her level of communication had just diminished. And although before it hadn't much effected them, one day it had.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - The Spiders WebWhere stories live. Discover now