Beadie rose to her feet, her rifle hanging loosely from her shoulder on the strap. She couldn't believe her eyes.
"Soap?" she asked softly, her tone wavering.
He looked like hell. He was covered in blood and mud, the rain washing it down in streaks. His left hand clutched his right bicep, blood oozing between his fingers. And he had a slight limp.
Out of reflex, she moved his way to help him but he took a step back, eyes narrowing at her. He looked at her like a hurt animal would and it broke her heart.
"Stay there," his voice rasped out, jaw clenching.
Beadie raised her hands in the air, showing him that she had no intention of hurting him. But his eyes still held the same hurt and distrust.
"I don't want to hurt you," Beadie said slowly. Soap scoffed at her, shaking his head. "Listen, I got betrayed just as much-"
"The hell you did!" he hissed at her, pointing a finger at her. "You're a bloody Shadow!"
He spat out the last word like it was poison, making her flinch.
"I had no idea about any of this!" Beadie pleaded, her tone getting slightly louder with desperation. "I swear. Graves didn't tell me any of this. And I'm sorry about everything that happened."
Soap pursed his lips together and looked down, shaking his head again. Beadie's eyes started to tear up as she lost more and more hope in trying to convince him.
"Please, Soap," her words came out in a hushed tone, barely above a whisper. "I didn't know. If I did I'd never let this happen."
His face softened ever so slightly at the sight of her distress. She had no idea what else to say to him, but she was ready to plead on her knees for his forgiveness. Maybe they didn't know each other that well, but she took a liking to him the minute they talked. He was always so warm and open with everyone, it hurt how he acted now. But she could totally understand his reasons.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Soap asked, clearly not convinced. But the fact that he was willing to talk to her and didn't just jump and cut her throat.
"You can have my gun," the blonde offered hesitantly, not really sure where that came from. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her, but she just got more sure. "Yeah, take my gun."
"This could be a trap," Soap pondered, but he took a step closer, stepping into the light more. Now she could see that he was a little pale, probably because of blood loss.
"You can take my life if it is."
Soap held her gaze for a few more tense seconds before he nodded, the sigh of relief leaving her. But still, she felt like she had a lot to make up for what happened.
"Can I have a look?" she nodded towards his injured arm, his hand coming back to hold it.
"I'll manage," was Soap's answer, making the blonde frown. Clearly, he wasn't alright but who was she to argue with him. So Beadie just shrugged her shoulder and let him be. "Why are you alone?"
"My partner is checking out a store at the end of the road," Beadie replied nonchalantly, seeing no point in lying to him. Frankly, she didn't want to. "But he probably will be back soon, so we should hurry up."
"There's no we, blondie," Soap chuckled dryly. "I'm on my own."
"Ghost got away, too," Beadie sat down on the couch, feeling like it would be a long time to get through him. But seemingly, the mention of his friend was enough to finally get him interested.
"Did you find him?" he asked, trying to sound uninterested. But his eyes spoke louder than his words, and they were full of hope.
"No. Now take my gun, MacTavish, you and I have to move."
Beadie reached her hand pistol out and offered it to him. Soap hesitated for a few seconds and that caused her to impatiently shake her hand in the air. He closed the distance between them with two quick steps and snatched the pistol from her hand. The Scotsman checked the clip instantly and clicked the safety off with a swift motion.
At the back of her mind, she waited for him to put a bullet in her head. Beadie wouldn't put that against him, after everything they went through. But he didn't, which meant that he was starting to trust her again.
"So, where's the others?" Beadie pursed her lips anxiously as she looked up at him. Some chatter from her radio echoed after her words but neither of them could make out the words so they just ignored it.
"Don't know."
His body language said he was lying. Beadie decided not to call out his lies.
"I can try to direct the heat off you," the blonde offered, silently chewing on her bottom lip. "It's crazy out there."
Just to prove her point further, the gunshots now came from closer, which meant that the Shadows were closing in on them and they needed to go, fast. She didn't know how fast Soap could run in this state, but she would try and hold the others up to her best knowledge.
She needed to gain time for him. For them.
"You ready?" Beadie stood from her seat with a low groan, her muscles aching. She reached into her vest pocket and handed him two more clips for the gun. "They'll probably going to notice my gun's absence. So, you have to punch me."
Soap blinked a few times in disbelief, staring down at the woman.
"What?" he finally broke, shaking his head. "I'm not going to punch you."
Beadie rolled her eyes, knowing how insane that sounded. But it was part of her plan. However, the woman wasn't famous for her amazing and clever plans. She acted more from her heart than from her mind; thinking through things and planning ahead for consequences wasn't her thing.
Alejandro and his impulsiveness really rubbed off on her.
"Come on, just punch me, Soap. Make them believe you took my gun," Beadie relaxed her shoulders back by circling them. A minute ago she thought the idea was pure madness and stupid, but now she was ready to commit to it.
It made sense if you thought about it. Her gun with a few clips missing: that would be suspicious, especially since Graves knew her weapons were her everything. But if Soap were to ambush her, knock her out, and take her weapon, that would make sense.
"I won't punch you, lass, what the hell," Soap looked at her like she just grown two heads.
Her previous approach didn't work. It looked like she needed to piss him off enough so he would swing.
"Punch me you little bitch."
The two of them just looked at each other in silence, letting her words settle in. Soap's mouth opened to say something but the man was too stunned to speak. Meanwhile, Beadie's face heated up from embarrassment, the look on his face just worsening everything.
This didn't go as planned.
„That was just mean," Soap genuinely sounded taken aback by her words, and she instantly regretted her words.
"I'm sorry, I'm panicking!" the blonde blurted out while throwing her hands in the air. Now there were the shouts of Shadows mixing with their shots. They were close and they were almost out of time. "But we need to hurry! They need to believe you took my gun."
"Right," the man nodded slowly, starting to catch on. "So do I just slap you or knock you out?"
"Whatever you feel like. Make it so it will leave a mark."
Soap nodded and he placed the gun in his holster, but just like something came to his mind, his eyes widened and he stopped in mid-air.
"One more thing before we do... that," Soap frowned as he realized he would have to punch the woman. She looked like she was adamant about going through with her plan. "If you see Ghost, run. He will not stop to hear you out like I did."
"I thought that much," Beadie murmured under her breath, not expecting less from him.
"And if you cross paths with Rora, keep a bullet for yourself. Because she'll enjoy spilling your blood."
"Sounds lovely," the blonde gulped, hoping that she wouldn't have the chance to test her luck with her.
Beadie was really grateful for whatever God was listening that she found Soap first. The other two seemed like a lovely and ruthless pair the blonde would rather not meet. She valued her life.
The gunshots came from closer. Way too close for comfort.
Men shouting chased after the echo of their gunfire. Death approached closer and closer.
"Now, Soap!"
"I'm sorry, lass."
And with that, Soap swung his hand holding the pistol – her pistol – down in a quick and ruthless motion, the grip of the gun colliding with her temple cold and hard. Her whole world went black as she dropped to the floor, his last words ringing in her ears before she lost consciousness.
╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝
Beadie let out a low groan as she tried to open her eyes.
Her whole head was pulsing with a headache and her hand hurt for some reason. The blonde sat up and brought a hand to her temple, touching the tender part. She hissed as her fingers touched a wound, her skin stinging at the contact. When she brought her fingers into her vision, it was coated in blood.
Damn, that hit was personal.
The woman took a second to recollect herself as she sat on the ground, slowly blinking. There was no trace of Soap now, thankfully, but the sounds of the Shadows closing in were still there.
She wondered how long she was unconscious, but there was no way to tell really. Mindlessly she checked her other weapons just to note that she was missing most of her magazines to her pistol. Beadie let out a scoff as she reached for the side table next to her for support and pulled herself to her feet.
Then she remembered.
She sent Sam down on his own. And he hasn't returned yet.
Swaying on her feet, Beadie reached for the radio strapped on her vest. Her finger hovered over the call button but something didn't let her call in. If she was to alert the others that someone hasn't turned up that could cause chaos. And she would get into trouble because she was supposed to lead a search group.
And if she calls in, that means that more Shadows will flood the area, giving 141 a much harder time. Soap was probably still close.
"God dammit," Beadie shoved her radio back in its place and on wobbling knees, she hurried outside.
As her headache lessened a little because of the fresh air, she switched her fast pace to jogging one, her heart pumping loudly. The road down to the shop seemed to stretch on forever, the cobblestones making her footing unstable. She cursed under her breath when she almost tripped but she continued on like nothing happened.
Please be alright.
The woman burst inside the little shop she pointed towards before. Her rifle was pulled in front of her, her shoulders hunched forward as she braced her body and looked around. As she stepped inside more, out of the part that the street lights illuminated, she fiddled to find her flashlight with her shaky hands.
Beadie cursed under her breath as she shook her hands out, trying to get the nerves out of her system just so she could find her torch finally. It seemed to help a little, only her fingers shaking slightly as she pulled the flashlight out from her velcro pocket. She pressed the button at the bottom of it, its light chasing away the darkness that threatened to suffocate her.
She didn't notice how fast she was breathing until her feet got caught up in something, making her breath hitch.
The blonde moved her light a little too fast. A little too fast for her brain to have a breather, not leaving it time to catch up with her. And she paid the price.
There was blood everywhere. A huge pool under her boots, under the numerous pieces of furniture inside, under the dead body.
There was a body in front of her, and she just stepped on its hand.
Gasping for air, Beadie stumbled backward, her back slamming against the wall beside her. Her light pointed at the body's face, making all the blood drain from hers as she looked into the dead eyes.
The dead eyes of Sam.
His friendly blue eyes were now wide with horror as he looked straight at her, one of his hands still on his neck, trying to stop the blood from gushing out, his other helplessly on the ground. That was the one she just stepped on.
His skin was white, his blood was the darkest shade of maroon and it tinted her soul pitch black.
This was her fault.
There was a big piece of glass wrapped up in a cloth that was tossed beside him, his blood tinting it, soaking through the cloth. This was a massacre; whoever had done it didn't show any mercy.
I can't breathe I can't breath
This is my fault.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she couldn't tear her gaze away, his mangled body and all that blood and the look permanently trapped in his dead eyes burning inside her mind forever.
She couldn't believe that not too long ago they were just chatting about pies and cakes. How he loved to bake. And now he was dead. Because of her.
She couldn't feel her knees. On wobbling legs she approached Sam, her boots making a wet sound as she stepped inside the pool of blood. His blood.
His blood was now soaking through her boots. She wanted to throw up.
Not being able to carry the weight of his death on her shoulders, Beadie fell to her knees right beside him, tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision.
"I'm so sorry, Sam," she whispered to him, her voice broken just like her soul. "I'm so, so sorry."
With shaking hands, she reached forward and closed his eyes, hiding the last fragments of his thoughts behind his lids. A sob shook through her body as she looked away, suddenly too aware as his blood soaked through her clothes, wetting her skin.
Bile rose in her throat as she suddenly stood up, choking on air.
"Poison Ivy, what's your position?"
The impatient voice of Graves came through the radio, finally snapping her out of her daze.
The tone of his voice implicated that he tried to reach her previously. But the blood rushing through her veins and her finally reaching her breaking point, she didn't register the voices coming from her radio.
She couldn't force herself to reach for her radio, though. She didn't know if she could even speak. Her head was buzzing and she felt like the whole room was spinning and spinning out of control; the shadows in the corners reaching for her and threatening to swallow her whole.
Graves called out to her one more time, but she barely registered it as she glanced back at Sam one more time. She noted how his favorite knife, the one he got from Devon was missing. In fact, most of his throwing knives were missing.
Maybe she was wrong. She shouldn't have trusted Soap. Maybe this was his doing. Or Ghost, judging by the brutality of it. She didn't know how the other woman of 141 operated, though. But whoever had done this, showed no mercy and knew what they were doing. And it showed perfectly how much the Shadows should watch their backs.
Unlike them, Beadie had no idea what to do. Her brain has just shut down. And she couldn't stop her hands from shaking.
Her mind went blank as she stepped out of the store, her rifle hanging loosely from her shoulder. The rain eased up a little, the drops almost feeling warm on her cold, drained skin.
She remembered when she first met Sam. He was trying to impress the other boys by balancing a throwing knife on his finger while singing Barbie Girl with all his chest. He always cheered the others up whenever someone was down. He was the moral support of their group. And even though he and Devon always were an inch away from tearing each other apart – well, Sam only laughed at him –, they were best friends.
His death will break Devon. Beadie had no idea how to tell him that Sam died because she was careless.
And somehow, during all the chaos that happened around her, she managed to get back to her team in one piece. The entire journey blanked from her mind and she had no idea how she got back, but there was Emerson and the two other Shadows, standing around the corner just where they split.
Emerson was quick to flash his light at her, blinding her entirely. Beadie only squinted against the harsh light, her arms too heavy to bring before her eyes. Too heavy with all the death that happened because of her.
"Lennox?" Emerson's voice came like he was talking underwater. Or maybe her head was underwater, she didn't know. She sure felt like she was drowning. "Are you okay? What happened? Where's Sam?"
His questions came flying towards her with such speed she could barely understand them, the other two Shadows jogging up to her and taking her arms. They held her weight up and up until that point, she didn't notice how her entire body was shaking. Her body was covered in blood.
And the amount of blood tainting her clothes and skin was enough of an answer for Emerson to know what happened to his friend.
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i know we dont like the shadows but try to understand they are mostly just doing what they have to. our girl is watching her family get killed by her new family and thats hard. so please be patient, she'll come around eventually