T(H)RUST - Ghost x Reader

Chapter 15

"I can't walk much longer."

"I would carry you if it wasn't for Tip." Ghost says. You turn to him, confused.

"Tip?"

He lifts up the cat.

"Mr. Tip. Because of his ear." he chuckles. Even if you are a little sad he won't carry you, you think it's really cute how attached he has grown to the cat. Then you feel your stomach rumble. You reach into the plastic bag and pull out the sandwiches. Carmen had called them 'torta cubana'. You pass one to Ghost. There is ham and pork on it and he pulls some out of the sandwich, feeding it to Tip, who chomps it down quickly. You take a bite out of yours. It tastes really good, and you are happy to be eating again, having been locked in that cellar without food had not been pleasant. As you walk, Ghost keeps feeding the meat from his sandwich to Tip. When it's his turn to eat there's only bread, cheese and sauce left.

You finally spot some buildings further down the road. You walk faster, eager to get a hold of a phone to call Price with. The first thing you come across is a small town center with some beautiful lush green trees and a fountain. There is a young man selling ice cream at an ice cream cart and you decide to ask him if you could use his phone.

"Hola!" you say when you walk up to him, Ghost close behind you with Mr. Tip in his arms.

"Hola señorita!" he exclaims.

"Telephone?"

"Sí, sí." He pulls out a small phone from his back pocket. YES. Finally.

"Gracias!" you say as he gives you the phone. You hand it over to Ghost, he holds Tip in one arm as he uses the phone to dial back to the base.

"It's me Captain." he says with his oh-so-recognizable raspy voice when Price picks up. You can't hear what Price says, but you are happy to finally be in contact with him again. "We are doing good. No major injuries." Yeah, like three burn wounds aren't major injuries. You laugh to yourself at his incredible lack of a reasonable definition of what an injury is.

"We're in a town called.." he hesitates and looks at you.

"El Vergel." you say.

".. El Vergel." he continues. He speaks with Price for a few minutes before hanging up and handing the phone back to the ice cream vendor. Then he reaches into his pocket and fishes out a couple of coins and a bill, roughly $6, before handing it over to the man and holding up two fingers.

"Gracias".

He turns to you.

"They'll be here in two hours." he says. The ice cream vendor hands over two cones of vanilla ice cream. You thank him and then you and Ghost walk over to sit on a bench in the shadow of a tree. Ghost places Mr. Tip down on the bench, pulls his mask up, and then he places his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. The ice cream is sweet and creamy and a very welcome treat, cooling your, still itchy, throat down.

You sit and enjoy your ice cream for a while. Ghost lets Mr. Tip lick up the remaining ice cream in his cone before throwing it to some birds. You untie your boots, feeling relieved as the pressure on your feet slowly disappears. Ghost places his now free hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your jeans. His touch is very comforting, and you lean onto his shoulder, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

Sitting on the bench, you look at all the people walking past, living normal lives. Kids are playing in the fountain, splashing water on each other. Whenever a car drives by, you look into it, hoping to see Price. Just as you start getting frustrated, a dark green Jeep rolls up, parking right next to the fountain. Out of it steps a man with a hat and a cigar in his hand, it's Price. He stretches his arms out wide, as so to greet you in a hug.

"There you are!" he says with a large smile on his face.

You walk up to him and he gives you a large hug. Ghost is following close behind, having first picked up the cat.

"It's good to see you again Lt." Then he looks at the cat in Ghost's arms. "And who is this?" He reaches his hand out, allowing Mr. Tip to sniff him.

"Mr. Tip. We got him from this nice old lady out in the countryside."

"Welcome to the team Mr." Price says, and Tip meows.

Everyone gets into the Jeep, Ghost in the passenger seat with Mr. Tip in his lap, and you sit in the back. Price is driving. As the car starts rolling your feel an immense sense of relief, knowing that you are finally going home. Ghost asks about where the other guys are.

"Well we were suspecting that the trade was fake, so we decided to try and capture him if he tried to get his brother out. They are waiting at the location as we speak. You two should lay low, it's to our advantage if they think you are dead. I'll be dropping you off at the base and then I'll go help them." he explains. You are happy with the plan, not really being in the mood for another mission right now.

Having dozed off in the car from being so tired after walking all day, you are woken up by Ghost opening the car door and placing his hand on your thigh. You get out of the car and together with Ghost you wave as Price starts driving again. Then you walk after Ghost towards the house. He lets Mr. Tip explore the kitchen and living room before carrying him to your bedroom. When you enter the bedroom, you spot your reflection in the mirror, and you see your hair. It's short. Ending just below your ears. It's very uneven, shorter on the right side than on the left. Your hair had been long, beautiful, and silky smooth, but now it looks like a toddler got too close to you with a pair of scissors. You feel your eyes start to water. Ghost walks over to you, having noticed your upset expression.

"Can you help me fix it?" you ask as you look up at him.

He lays one arm around you, pulling you close to him, and squeezes you tight.

"Of course, luv."

Using the kitchen scissors, you manage to even the hair out a bit. Ghost helps you with reaching the back of your head. Your hair ends up in some sort of ear-length bob. It has a lot more volume now, weighing a lot less than before. Ghost runs his hands through your hair, ruffling it up,

"You look good in short hair." he says, meeting your eyes in the bathroom mirror. Was that a compliment? You can see a smile forming on your face and your cheeks turning one shade pinker.

"Thank you."