I Wish I Could've Officially Made You Mine

by ghostroacharemybabies

Summary:

Roach's last few moments next to his lover.

Notes:

sorry for any grammar mistakes <3

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

“That’s one less loose end.”
Suddenly there’s a sharp pinch just under his rib cage. Almost a phantom pain, body already worn and bleeding from never-ending combat. His sight is hazy and unfocused, barely catching onto his eyes as he falls towards the ground. Watching through murky vision as Shepherd’s gun aims at his head. Narrowly missing that undisguisable sound and flash of a gun and how his body was now level with his own on the cold muddy ground. Stilled. His eyes stared directly at him through his sunglasses, glossy and void of anything. Just… empty…
Everything seemed to move in slow motion from that point on. Isn’t that what they say when you’re on the brink of death? That everything slows down during your final minutes. Don’t they also say your memories flash through your head, replaying the good and the bad during the last few seconds your body is grasping onto life? But… that’s not the case. He doesn’t see that- any of that. Even as the shallow breaths begin to slow, he’s using the last of his energy to reach out for his lover’s hand, just touching the tips of his fingers before being picked up from the ground and thrown into a ditch. Consciousness faded in and out, seeing glimpses of Shepherd’s face, holding his nasty cigar, hovering over him. He’s still living in the now, never seeing those remembrances.
He managed to turn his head, watching as his lover’s body gets tossed next to him by two silhouettes. He wanted to scream at them. Scream for how they were handling him, just throwing him around like he was nothing like he was a nobody. But he was someone! He was his someone! He was the man that he loved, the man who he was able to show himself to at his most vulnerable moments, the man that was the first person to understand and love him… the man that he was going to propose to after this god-forsaken mission was over. They were supposed to be going back to the base. They were supposed to be cramped up on the small bed holding each other tightly, neither wanting to ever let go. He had a whole plan of how he was going to make him, his forever… But all of that’s gone to shit. He’ll never be able to grow old with him, never be able to buy a house in a remote country, away from combat, from the military, from people.
As he stares into his eyes, he can feel a cold liquid slowly soak through his gear, not the warm blood that was seeping out from both of them, no it was a potent liquid, one easily recognizable- gasoline.
He accepted that in these last moments, he’d never be able to live out the life he wanted, the life he promised his *was* soon-to-be husband. He wasn’t furious anymore, he was weirdly… calm? His body relaxed, slowly losing feeling everywhere, starting at the tips of his fingers and toes, slowly creeping up to the rest of his limbs.
Even as they were both engulfed by the roaring flames and the extreme heat, he still lay placid. Smoke harshly filled his already damaged lungs, making it impossible to breathe. But even as he could feel his skin boil under the temperature, as holes were burning through his clothes, he still had that eerie calm sensation that fell over him.
He hoped that the stilled man next to him didn’t have to go through all of this, hoped that he was at least killed on impact from the bullet piercing through his skull.
Through the flames, the burning lungs, damaged vocal cords, and the charred flesh, he managed to croak out his final words- cool tears slipping down the side of his face, choked sobs escaping his mouth…
“Simon Riley. Will… will you- make me, Gary Sanderson, the happiest man in the world…” he trailed off, just laying there for a moment taking in his flaming body, choking out sobs in between his words, “a- and marry me?”
Then there was nothing. No more pain, no more Shepherd, no more 141… no more Simon… no more Gary. Gone from existence forever- wiped off the face of the earth.
Gary always wondered what the afterlife looked like. Maybe it was a paradise, maybe a waiting room, possibly even just an entity stuck to watch the living in the real world, a ghost you’d say. But that’s not what it’s like at all. There are no beaches, no waiting room, no military base, no God. It’s just black. No more self-identify, just a thought in a void. He couldn’t remember his name, where he came from, his life. Just another’s. All he could remember was a man’s name. A man called Simon Riley.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Summary:

It's time for closure.

“You know you have to pack up their room eventually?” A male’s voice behind him said hushed, careful not to spring any bad emotions from him.
“Don’t know why we have to. There’s plenty of other rooms on base.” Captain MacTavish replied stubbornly, and the man behind sighed heavily.
He stood in the doorway, looking at the shared room that was frozen in time. Sheets bunched up at the foot of the bed, dirty clothing strewn amongst the room, several pairs of shoes scattered across the floor.
It was a small room, he was always impressed how they were able to fit both of their stuff in here, though he supposed Ghost didn’t own much, assumed all the books, journals, and aviation gear belonged to Roach.
He knew that it was time to pack up the rest of what remained of the two, but he felt that it wasn’t right. That touching their belongings was intruding on their personal lives, that they should be left alone, sitting in their respective places to slowly collect dust.
“MacTavish.” The male voice said again, somewhat more sternly but still carefully. “You know what you need to do. I’ll grab boxes and tape. You need to pack up their stuff and send them to Roach’s family…” He stayed silent for a few moments, trying to gather the right words. “It’s- it’s uh what they would’ve wanted, you and I both know that.” He cleared his throat and glanced into their room before stalking off, presumably to grab boxes and other materials.
MacTavish quickly came back to the real world, escaping his painful thoughts, and turned around quickly before the man walked away completely.
“Price! Price wait!” Price stood at the end of the hall, and turned, an understanding and pained expression present on his face. “Can- um” John started, “can’t we just put this off for a little more while… it uh- it just doesn’t feel right sir.” MacTavish looked downwards, staring at his feet, not wanting Price to see the tears forming in his eyes.
“John.” Price started, “It’s been weeks, you can’t put this off anymore or it won’t get done at all. I know it doesn’t feel right but son… you have to realize it’ll never feel right. I miss them just as much as you do, don’t believe this isn’t fucking hard for me to do this. They were some of my best men. They were great people. Hell, I haven’t stopped thinking about them since we got the news, already have gone through 5 bottles of Whiskey. A day doesn’t go by where I don’t fucking wish that they were still here.” John was now looking Price in the eyes, both will tear-filled, glossy eyes, a mutual feeling between them. Price took in a shaky breath before continuing, “Now, I’m going to go grab those boxes, you need to start organizing their stuff, I’ll go get you Gary’s family’s address.” He gave MacTavish one more pitiful look before resuming his path down the base’s hall.

Notes:

ahaha - crying in a corner rn

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Summary:

Family time!!!!!

MacTavish slowly pulled up to a house, checking the crumbled paper in his hand to make sure he had gotten the right address. He parked the car in the driveway and sat there for a moment. A few days had passed since Price and his conversation.
He took in the house in front of him, a white, two-story home with flowers lining the pavement to the front door.
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before hopping out of his car and began walking up to the door. He stopped just inches in front, raised hand paused, listening to the muffled chatter and laughter hidden away behind the locked door. He knows he’ll feel so guilty about this after but it needs to be done.
He knocks on the wooden door a few times, hearing a halt in the conversations before a distorted figure, seen through the door’s glass design, walks up, approaching where MacTavish stood.
A short, older woman, who couldn’t have been older than 70, answered the door, confused, looking up at the unknown man in front of her. He took a glance inside, seeing two young adults, both male, sitting next to each other on the couch staring at him, and an older man, assuming he’s the woman’s husband, walking up behind to join her at the doorway.
“Can I help you?” The woman interrupted his thoughts, a sweet welcoming southern accent present, one that matched his.
“Are you Mrs. and Mr. Sanderson?”
The two looked at each other before turning back and nodding. The two men previously sitting on the couch, now intrigued, got up and lingered behind, from what he guessed, their parents. They looked so much like him. “Yes, we are.” Mr. Sanderson spoke up, slight confusion hidden in his voice.
“Hello, I’m John MacTavish. I worked with your son, Gary Sanderson. I’m sorry to inform you that your son…” his voice faded in his head, his mind only focused on the reactions of Gary’s family, all simultaneously filling with grief and sadness, listening intently to John’s words.

Notes:

sorry this was short, its just from my notes app soooooo - and sorry again for any grammar mistakes :3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of GhostRoach teehee :3