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You and Simon had been unofficially together for a solid year or so, you were a mercenary, or a ‘Freelancer’ and you sometimes called it, and he knew you basically did the same job as him, you just did it on your own terms, and he respected that. That’s probably what worked so well between the two of you, a mutual understanding of each other.
Until you ghosted him, and seemingly vanished off of the face of the Earth.
His colleagues had also taken the ever loving piss out of him, ‘Ghost getting ghosted’ was comedy gold, and the only joke for a few weeks.
He was pissed for a bit, he had been enjoying whatever it was the two of you had. But he was also mad that he of all people couldn’t find any trace of you. But after a while he came to terms with it, and respected your decision.
Thats why it came as such a shock to him when he spotted you in a corner booth of some seedy pub in Rabat, chatting with a pair of very, very sketchy looking men.
He’s normally quite a nonchalant person, but he is openly protective of the people he cares about, and even though he hasn’t seen or talked to you in over a year, he still considers you someone he cares about.
So he directed his teammates to a booth across from yours, just so he could hear the conversation, making sure he was at the aisle so he could jump in if needed-not that you couldn’t handle yourself, but two on one isn’t a fair fight.
The 141 was talking, drinking their drinks, joking around, but Ghost had his eyes and ears on you the whole time. It was definitely you, you had the same eyes and face and dimples and voice, your hair was a lot shorter, and there were a few new scars that the could see, but he knew it was you.
” …owed… boss expects it… thin ice”
He could only catch bits of the conversation over the general noise of the pub, but he could tell you were in trouble, and his teammates could tell he was off.
“You right, mate?” Soap asked over the froth of his beer, raising an eyebrow at his friend
He nodded mumbling a gruff, brief excuse before returning his attention to you.
The two men had shifted now, boxing you in. You didn’t look worried, keeping up a nonchalant facade, but something just irked him the wrong way. He knew you. He knew you wouldn’t let yourself get into that position, you hardly liked standing on the street, let alone boxed into a booth between two opponents.
After a couple minutes of talking your ensemble left the room, leaving via a door outback, you being pushed infront of them, and that’s when something shifted.
Simon got out of his seat, without a word to his team he left the pub, following out via the back door, not failing to notice Soap trailing behind him as he entered the alley.
“You guys seem civilised.” You say, talking out your ass to stall as you try to think of an out, “surely I could just meet the guy, you know? Talk face to face, I reckon we could work something out.”
“Business is business.” One of the men says. They have their backs to Soap and Ghost, cornering you in the alley.
“Oh, I know that, I’m somewhat of an entrepreneur myself, that’s why I think it would be more reasonable for me to personally discuss it with your b-” You look behind the two men, pulling an incredibly shocked face. “What the fuck?”
The two men turn around, spotting Soap and Ghost (who you don’t recognise because you never really saw him with the mask) and giving you an out through the door back in.
That is, until one of them grabs you by the arm and yoinks you back, and the next few moments is a blur, Ghost hits the guy holding you, whilst Soap takes his mate, and then they just beat the shit out of your assailants while you debate running or not.
Thats when the mask slips.
“Simon?” You say, shocked that he’d be here.
His head snaps toward you, and he pulls off the guy, who’s now a twitching, bloody figure on the dirty alley floor, and steps closer to you.
“Fuck.” You mumble slightly to yourself, before repeating, a little louder. “Fuck.”
“look, I’m sorry, I can explain..”
“Ae think this shite ‘xplains it for ya, lad/lass.” Soap chimes in from behind Simon, before copping a Look™ and pissing off back into the bar.
Once he’s fucked off you turn back to Simon. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t say anything. I had to disappear because I had.. people much worse than those blokes trying to get me, and I didn’t want to get you involved somehow.”
Simon goes to talk but you interrupt him.
“I know it was a shitty move, but I had to do it, I’m sorry I hurt you in the process.”
Simon sighs, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“I understand.” He pauses, not really knowing what to say, “I’m just glad I was here tonight.”
You feel your shoulders drop and you find yourself wanting to hug him, but he does it for you.
Wrapping his arms around you gently and pulling you close. “Are you safe, atleast?”
You sigh, “ ‘am now.”
He rubs your back softly.
“I’d love to try and fix it.. what we had, if you’d want to?” You mumble.
He huffs softly, “only if you don’t ghost me again.”
You chuckle, and rest your head on his shoulder. And for a moment, none of the time has passed, your not in a greasy, dirty alleyway running on 3 hours sleep within the last 48 hours but your in your apartment, last year, just being held by your (not so) boyfriend.