The trial was coming, it was in three weeks. The media was in an uproar. I locked myself in my room, the anxiety finally eating away at me. Old memories flashed into my mind. The faces of those I protected only to be abandoned... only a handful came out still with me. I can count them all on a single hand... Tragedy is the king who wears the crown.
The occasional knocks became hourly, the only thing keeping me aware of time slipping by me. Time and only time, what a strange concept really.
I felt myself slipping and floating back into a fond dream I have — heavy rain back in quarantine, the streets all empty and the world seemed so dead. No cars, no sound, simply the passage of time. The long strips of highway pooling with water.
The sound of whimsical romantic instrumentals playing in my ears. Dancing to shake off the cold that will eventually grip me, for that moment to live in a moment, to truly feel every second not just watching time walk by you.
"Beau..." I mumble, what a name... I haven't thought of him in years.
Knock knock knock.
I stayed quiet.
"Have you eaten?" I hear Charlie from beyond the door.
"Mate, why do you try anymore?" I heard Soap asks.
"She can't die on me now."
"Hey, I'm Beau—" the dark-haired boy spoke ending his sentence with a long whistle of a catchy tune. "What's your name?"
I don't think we had a good start...
"Hey hey hey," he spoke tapping me repeatedly.
It was really... upsetting. I told him to stop but he didn't. I didn't want to be touched. The faces of my classmates flashed before my eyes. My boundaries were nothing but a checklist for the cruelest to do for fun.
I remember that moment... My fist hurt as it collided with his nose, I broke his nose. This wasn't my first... this wasn't the first time I attacked someone, nor the last one. I did not... I did not make friends that day.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" The boy frantically shouts waving his hands away. His face grimaced angrily, and I smacked him hard again. He was pissing me off. "Please stop hitting me!"
"I'm sorry I have Tourette's; I didn't mean to make you cry!"
Beau was such a pretty person, inside and out... So sweet and kind.
ᔕᔕᔕ≼∴≽ᔕᔕᔕ
The number of media I have consumed is astonishing. It was a rabbit hole of pure despair. I stare blankly at the faces of my parents as they rage across the media, bombasticing me every chance they get. My father and mother were at each other's throats ready to rip each other up, it brought back old forgotten memories of tense dinners and screaming matches.
On the Russian side, it was more... tactical. They brought in their proof that was US missiles. That was for sure, but from the other trial with that general, it was one of his or could have been. He was sending Missiles and weapons to Urzikstan. Unless this was a stolen missile from them, but it wasn't for sure.
I took many notes, my mind scattered, and I couldn't organize anything to first the madness I was witnessing. It was chicken scratched onto many loose pieces of paper. I don't remember if anyone knocked on my door or not, the time or what day didn't matter to me. I had no will to eat or sleep, I simply existed off of air and spite.
growl.
I frown and look around my room. Fishtart wasn't in my room, no for this type of madness a service dog would only get in my way. The light was bright and loud, the room smelled like a dog, and it was nauseating.
I need fresh air.
I get up and push my hair back and cringe, the oil in it killed my sensation. Was I so distracted by the dirt growing on me? I grabbed some random close and headed for the showers. I patted out most of the water from my hair before walking off, I could not care to finish drying it off, I'll just wear Charlie's hoody to keep the water off my neck.
I stumble into the cafeteria and silently eat. I was left alone, to eat the food I didn't like but at this point, the food did look ok... I didn't overthink it my mind was muddled and watery. I stumble away, my foot took me not to my room but to the common rooms of the barrack of my team.
"Look what the cat dragged in—" I look over to see Soap leaning in his chair smirking at me. "You look terrible."
"Thank you," I mumble and walk off.
"G you look—" Gaz said before stopping and walking up to me. He dragged me over to where Soap was sitting.
"Ok so..." Gaz slowly begins looking into my tired eyes. "Another PMC joined us."
"Kill me," I grumble, great another person... or people! At this point, I'm going to throw diplomacy out the door and just vibe off my hate and spite. I looked around trying to spot Charlie, but he was nowhere.
"So, this person..." Gaz mumbles.
"Be a cunt to him," Soap said sitting up and leaning in, "you have our complete support to just be rude and mean." I stared at him weirdly blinking a few times.
"What?"
"Look it's Graves, the stupid idiot we thought we killed in Mexico."
"Oh, the one I said if you didn't see a body, he isn't dead?" I spoke up quietly, and they slowly nodded.
"Where's Charlie?"
"He, Roach, König, and Ghost left to chat, with Graves," Gaz sneers quietly, "Price is trying to see if we can get rid of him." I nod along.
"So, what do you need of me?"
"I want you to be mean and rude to him, treat him like you treat Ghost and König." Soap adds in.
"What do I get out of this?" I ask.
"What do you want?"
"Food," I state.
"Done," both said at once.
"Hey," We looked over to see Charlie walk in, directly behind him was a man I didn't recognize. He looked at me, he was about 5'10" tall but not the tallest of the group.
A/N: Can't sleep so decided to update, give me your favorite moment from this fic!