Chapter Text

Mirrors in the Smoke

The Beginning Of It All

The city was still burning when they pulled out.

A mission that had looked simple on paper —hostage retrieval, high-level target extraction —had turned into a goddamn inferno in minutes. The compound was crawling with armed guards, comms went dark, and Ghost had been cut off from the main team for nearly fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes was a long time in their world. Long enough to bleed out. Long enough to be caught. Long enough to die.

He'd been cornered behind a half-collapsed wall, out of ammo, calculating odds that weren't in his favor when the gunfire stopped. Then he heard it- measured footsteps crunching over broken glass.

"Bloody hell," Ghost muttered under his breath, readying his knife.

A single suppressed shot cracked through the air. The last insurgent dropped before he could blink or yell for help.

Lilly Quinn stepped through the smoke, rifle still raised, calm and steady as if she hadn't just run headfirst into enemy fire.

"Didn't know you were so fond of dramatic rescues," Ghost said, voice gravel behind his mask.

Her reply was smooth, clipped. "Didn't do it for you."

She moved past him, checking the perimeter like it was nothing. Ghost watched her for a beat- the fluid precision of her movements, the absolute composure that made her seem carved from stone. It grated on him. She was too good. Too controlled.

And for reasons he didn't care to name, that pissed him off.

They exfiltrated in silence, the chopper blades roaring overhead as the city's firelight bled into the clouds.

Back at base, the silence between them carried more weight than words ever could.

Soap and Gaz were already debriefing with Price when Ghost stalked into the armory. He slammed his helmet down hard enough to make the table rattle. "She disobeyed a direct order," he growled.

Lilly, standing at the opposite bench, didn't glance up from where she was cleaning her knife. "I adapted to the situation."

"You risked the entire team."

"You were pinned down. I made the call."

The calm in her voice infuriated him- not the words themselves, but the lack of emotion behind them. Like she was untouchable. Like she knew she was right and didn't care who disagreed.

"Next time, wait for command," Ghosy snapped.

"Next time, don't get yourself trapped. Comms were down anyway, and unlike you, I don't just sit on my ass."

That got her a glare sharp enough to cut. Soap, sitting nearby, made a low whistle and muttered, "Here we go again."

Lilly finally looked up, eyes steady and unflinching. "You don't have to like me, Lieutenant, but don't mistake efficiency for disobedience."

"And don't mistake recklessness for initiative."

For a moment, the air between them was taut- electric, dangerous. If Price hadn't walked in then, it might have snapped.

"That's enough," Price barked. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried command like thunder. "I don't give a damn which of you's right. You're both still breathing, and that's what matters. But since you seem to have so much to say to each other..."

He looked between them, lips twitching into something that might have been amusement if not for the steel in his eyes. "You're running point together next mission."

Lilly blinked. "Sir-"

"Not a request."

Ghost's jaw tensed beneath his mask. "Understood."

Price nodded once. "Good. Maybe you'll learn something from each other."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Outside the hangar, the night air was sharp and cool. The mission lights had been shut off for the night, leaving the base bathed in shadows and the low hum of generators.

Lilly walked ahead, her steps even. Ghost followed a few paces behind. He didn't like her- didn't trust her- but he couldn't shake the sense that there was something familiar in her stillness.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low. Almost a growl. "You think I'm the problem."

Lilly stopped and turned, her expression unreadable in the half-light. "I don't think. I observe."

"Right. And what do you observe, then?"

"That you like control," she said softly. "And you hate that you don't have any over me."

For the first time, Ghost said nothing.

Her words landed with the kind of precision that came from someone who knew exactly how to wound without drawing blood.

"Go to hell," he muttered finally.

She gave a faint, humorless smile. "Already been."

And then she walked off towards the barracks, leaving him standing there, silent and burning.

That night, Lilly lay on her cot, staring at the ceiling.

She could still hear the gunfire, still smell the smoke. But what lingered most wasn't the mission- it was the loom in Ghost's eyes when she'd said those words. Like she peeled back a layer he didn't even realize he had left.

She couldn't care. She didn't want to care. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind that mask than scars and orders. Something jagged. Something she recognized.

Because she'd seen that same haunted stillness before- every time she looked in the mirror.

Across the base, Ghost sat in the dim light of his quarters, cleaning his weapon for the third time just to keep his hands busy.

He told himself she was reckless. Arrogant. A liability.

But the truth gnawed at him: she wasn't any of those things. She was sharp. Calculated. Efficient in a way that scared him, because it was too familiar.

He'd spent years building his walla, laying discipline and silence over the ruins of the man beneath.

And Lilly Quinn—damn her —had walked right in and recognized his architecture.

Chapter Text

Ashes Don't Burn, They Remember

Before the Storm

The sun hadn't risen yet, but the base was alive. The hum of generators, the distant clang of metal against metal, the soft crackle of a radio left running somewhere down the hall- it all blended into that familiar symphony of pre-mission quiet.

Lilly was already up, hair pulled back, uniform crisp, boots laced tight. She liked the hours before dawn. They were still, predictable. No gunfire, no chaos- just the calm before the storm.

She'd barely slept, but that was nothing new. Sleep was a luxury she'd long since learned to live without.

When she pushed open the door to the briefing room, the smell of coffee hit her first- strong, bitter, comforting in its own way.

"Morning, sunshine," Soap greeted with a grin, boots kicked up on the table. "Thought you'd still be dead to the world."

Lilly smirked faintly, dropping into a chair across from him. "You forget who you're talking to. I don't sleep, remember?"

"Right, our resident machine," Gaz chimed in from where he was sorting gear. "Can't tell if it's dedication or caffeine addiction."

She leaned back, mock thinking. "Little bit of both, maybe."

Soap laughed, tossing her a protein bar. "Eat. You get snippy when you're hungry."

She caught it easily, rolling her eyes. "I get snippy when you exist, MacTavish."

"See?" Soap pointed, tiumhant. "That right there."

Price walked in then, his presence enough to quiet the room without saying a word. He carried himself with the easy authority of a man who'd seen too much and somehow kept his humanity intact.

"Morning, lads. Quinn." His tone softened slightly when he said her name, and she straightened unconsciously- not out of fear, but respect.

"Captain," she greeted, the faintest warmth in her voice.

He gave her a nod before setting a thick folder on the table. "Korat recon's on a forty-eight-hour window. Satellite images show potential hostiles in the area, but we need confirmation before Command makes any calls. You'll be moving in pairs- Ghost and Quinn lead, Soap and Gaz run backup."

Soap opened his mouth to comment, but one sharp look from Price shut him down.

Ghost entered a moment later, silent as ever, his mask catching the morning light in a way that made it impossible to tell where his expression ended and the shadow began.

"Sleep well, Lieutenant?" Soap teased.

Ghost didn't even glance at him. "Define well."

Lilly kept her gaze on the mission files, pretending not to feel the weight of his presence at the table. She could practically feel his disapproval radiating from across the room.

Price, sensing the tension, flipped open the folder. "I don't need you two liking each other. I need you working together. Clear?"

"Crystal," Lilly said at the same time Ghost muttered, "Understood."

Their voices overlapped, sharp and in sync- ironically proving Price's point.

He raised a brow but didn't comment. "Gear up. Wheels up at oh-four-hundred."

When the others filtered out, Lilly lingered. She could feel Price's eyes on her even before he spoke.

"You alright, kid?"

The word "kid" made her chest tighten just a little. He didn't use it often, but when he did, it always felt like something more than rank.

She hesitated before answering. "I'm fine, sir."

Price gave a quiet huff, the kind that said he'd heard that line too many times before. He leaned against the table, crossing his arms. "Fine's what people say when they're anything but."

Lilly smiled faintly. "Guess I should pick a better word."

He studied her for a long moment. "Ghost gettin' to you?"

Her smile faltered. "He's... getting under my skin, yeah. But it's fine. We'll manage."

"He's a hard man to like," Price said evenly. "You're not the first to butt heads with him. Won't be the last. But he's good. You both are."

"I know." She paused, then added softly, "He just- he looks at me like he's trying to see something I don't want seen."

Price's expression softened. "And maybe he's just seein' what's already there."

Lilly looked down at the folder, fingers tightening around its edges. "What's already there isn't pretty."

Price's voice gentled. "I know. But pretty doesn't win wars, love. People like you do. Don't let anyone make you ashamed of survivin'."

That hit harder than she expected.

She didn't answer right away, just nodded. "Thanks, Cap."

"Anytime, kid." He gave her shoulder a firm squeeze before walking out, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the steady hum of the base around her.

Later that morning, the mess hall was alive with the usual pre-deployment energy —the clatter of trays, bursts of laughter, the low hum of routine.

Soap and Gaz were arguing over whose coffee was stronger, each claiming superiority as if caffeine were a matter of pride.

"Yours looks like mud," Gaz said, wrinkling his nose.

"It's called flavor, mate. You wouldn't know it if it bit you in the arse."

Lilly chuckled, sliding her tray down beside them. "You two fight like an old married couple."

Soap grinned. "If we were married, I'd've poisoned him by now."

Gaz raised his cup in mock toast. "And I'd haunt you till you cried for mercy."

Their laughter was easy, genuine- the kind that only comes from people who've seen death and decided to laugh anyway.

Lilly felt herself relax into it. Around them, she didn't have to be cold or perfect. She could just be.

Ghost entered midway through the meal, quiet and purposeful. He didn't sit with them- he never did- but his gaze swept the room briefly, landing on her for a moment before moving on.

Soap leaned closer, whispering theatrically, "Y'know, I think he's got a soft spot for you."

Lilly snorted. "Pretty sure it's a kill spot."

Gaz smirked. "Difference being?"

"None that I can tell."

Still, when Ghost brushed past their table on his way out, his arm barely grazing hers, she froze. It wasn't much —just contact, fleeting and unintentional —but it left an uncomfortable echo under her skin.

Soap caught it, of course. "Aye, you two are gonna be the death of us."

"Probably," Lilly muttered, stabbing at her food.

By afternoon, the hangar buzzed with energy. Gear checks, ammo counts, final mission briefings- the kind of organized chaos that came before any major operation.

Lilly stood beside Gaz, adjusting her rifle strap while Soap approached with a grin. "All set, lass?"

"Always."

He nodded approvingly. "Good. Don't let the big guy brood too much out there, yeah?"

"Pretty sure that's his natural state," she said dryly.

Soap laughed and jogged off, calling over his shoulder, "Then you're doomed!"

Price approached a moment later, clipboard in hand. "Everything squared away?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Ghost'll meet you at the tarmac."

She hesitated. "Sir, if I can ask-"

He raised a brow.

"Why pair me with him. We don't get along, and I can hardly see us as a good choice for pairing."

Price's answer was simple. "Because you don't flinch around him. Most people do."

Lilly blinked. "I'm not most people."

"No," he said quietly, "you're not."

There was something in his tone- pride, maybe, or worry- that she couldn't quite name.

Ghost was already on the tarmac when she arrived, standing in the shadow of the transport helicopter, amsk pulled up just enough to light a cigarette.

The smoke curled lazily in the dawn light, softening the hard edges of his silhouette.

He didn't look at her when he spoke. "You're late."

"By two minutes," she countered.

"That's two minutes too long."

She rolled her eyes but said nothing.

He flicked the cigarette away, the ember flaring once before dying in the dirt. "You ready for this?"

"Always."

His gaze finally shifted towards her, unreadable behind the skull. "We'll see."

They stood there for a moment, silent but not still- the air thick with all the things they'd never say.

Lilly adjusted her rifle strap again just to keep her hands busy. "You always this cheerful before a mission?"

"Only when I've got good company.

She blinked, caught off guard by the dry humor in his tone. It wasn't much, but it was the closest thing to a truce they'd ever had.

Before she could reply, Price's voice called from behind them, "Mount up, you two. Time to earn your paychecks."

Lilly climbed into the chopper, the roar of the rotors drowning out everything else. Ghost followed, settling across from her.

Their eyes met briefly- not hostile, not friendly, just... aware.

She looked away first, out the window where the horizon was just starting to blush with light.

A new day. A new mission. A new storm waiting to break.

And for the first time in a long time, Lilly Quinn wasn't sure she was ready for what came after.

Chapter Text

Ashes Don't Burn, They Remember

Smoke and Silence

The rain hadn't stopped since they landed. Sheets of it fell against the windows of the transport, the steady drumming blending in with the roar of the engines. Even with her headset on, Lilly could hear the storm —could feel it in the pressure behind her eyes. She sat rigid in her seat, checking her weapon for what felt like the hundredth time. Across from her, Ghost sat stone-still, mask shadowed by the dim cabin light, eyes trained on the map flickering on his tablet.

He didn't look up. He didn't have to. The tension between them was its own storm.

Price's voice crackles through the comms. "Alright, 141. You know the drill. In and out. Quiet as possible, no civilian contact, no collateral. We're ghosts tonight, yeah?"

Gaz smirked faintly. "Guess that makes Ghost feel right at home."

Even Soap chuckled at that. "If we're all ghosts, does that mean you're the friendly one or the grumpy one, big guy?"

Ghosy didn't respond, but the faint twitch in his gloved hand said enough.

Lilly's lips twitched, but she said nothing. She kept her gaze on the map projected in her mind, running through the objective again and again like a prayer she didn't believe in anymore.

A weapons cache. Simple on paper. Get in, extract intel, destroy it if needed, and pull out before the militia caught wind. But she'd done this long enough to know that "simple" missions were the ones that burned.

The ramp dropped. Ran and wind clawed their way inside as the night opened before them- endless mud, black trees, and the faint shimmer of lightning on the horizon.

"Let's move," Price ordered.

They stepped into the storm.

They split into pairs. Gaz and Soap flanked east, sweeping the perimeter for lookouts. Price held center command near the extraction route. Ghost and Lilly moved north —through the thick brush, toward the compound, the compound lights blinking faintly through the trees.

Lilly hated this part- the silence before the inevitable noise. Her breathing was steady, her body trained for stealth, but her mind whispered reminders she didn't need. Her father's voice. Her own heartbeat. The small, trembling girl she buried years ago.

She blinked the memory away. Focus.

Ghost's voice came through the comms softly. "Two guards, by the gate. I'll take left."

"I've got right," she replied, already lining up the shot.

Two muffled cracks later, both bodies fell. Clean, synchronized. For a second, neither said anything. Then Ghost murmured, "You're getting sloppy on the timing."

"Still faster than you," Lilly shot back, her tone clipped.

The silence that followed was heavier than the rain.

They breached the gate, moving like shadows through the mud. Inside the compound, the smell of oil and metal clung thick in the air. Floodlights hummed faintly overhead, flickering as thunder rolled in the distance.

"Price, we're in," Ghost reported.

"Copy. Gax, Soap, status?"

"South wall clear," Soap's voice came. "We've got a good line to exfil."

"Good. Stay sharp. Intel says this place runs light guard at night, but if they catch wind-"

The explosion cuts him off.

It came from the east perimeter- a thunderclap of fire that swallowed the rain.

"Soap!" Price barked.

Static. Then Gaz's voice, panicked: "Ambush! Multiple tangos- we're pinned!"

Ghost cursed under his breath. "They knew we were coming."

"Fall back!" Price ordered, voice sharp. "All units regroup on secondary-"

More gunfire. Closer this time.

Lilly's instincts kicked in. "We can't make it out that way- they're cutting us off."

"Then we'll make our own way." Ghost's tone was steel. "Move."

They sprinted through the compound, bullets slicing through the rain. Lilly dove behind a stack of barrels, firing back at the shadows moving between the floodlights. Every breath was heat and thunder and chaos.

"Gaz, Soap- what's your position?" Price's voice came again, strained now.

No answer.

Ghost dropped beside her, reloading. His shoulder brushed hers, and for one heartbeat, she caught his eyes through the mask- not the soldier, but the man underneath, sharp and furious and alive.

"Cover me," he growled, moving before she could answer.

"Ghost- wait-"

Too late. He was already out, taking position behind the truck, firing precise bursts that cut through the dark. Lilly moved instinctively, covering his flank, every motion automatic, drilled, perfect. She could feel the sting in her arm- a graze- but she ignored it.

"Fuck. Price, we're surrounded!" she shouted into her comm.

The reply came fractured, as if someone was trying to mess with the comms: "Hold position! Reinforcements-ETA five minutes!"

They wouldn't last five minutes.

Lilly ducks as another explosion rocked the ground, heat and dirt slammed into her chest. Ghost was thrown back, hitting the ground hard. She was on him in an instant, grabbing his vest and dragging him behind cover.

"Stay with me!" she snapped, checking his gear for damage.

He blinked, dazed but conscious. "I'm fine,"

"You're bleeding."

"So are you."

Lightning flashed, and for a brief second, she saw her reflection in his eyes- the soldier, the survivor, the girl who refused to die in another man's chaos.

"On three," he said.

She nodded.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

They rose together, firing as one- two storms colliding against the world.

And then, just as the gunfire began to fade, the final explosion tore through the air- closer, louder, too close. The shockwave hit like a train, slamming her backward into the mud. The last thing she saw before the world went black was Ghost- reaching for her through the smoke, shouting her name-

And the rain swallowing everything.