Broken // Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Broken Part 9

From: Y/N
You up?

From: S. Riley
No.

From: Y/N
Who's answering me then? A ghost?

From: S. Riley
Piss off.

From: Y/N
Can we talk?
Bout the mission?

From: S. Riley
Everything is settled.

From: Y/N
Still feel like you don't want me there.

From: S.Riley
Sherlock.

From: Y/N
Still able to call it off. Ask Johnson to take my place

From: S. Riley
She's still on leave. You should consider that word and leave it.
Now don't make me regret agreeing to this.

From: Y/N
See you tomorrow.

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Eyes roamed over the reflection of the man standing in front of the mirror. A suit clinging to his body just perfectly, the size guessed by a man always having his back.

"I hate you MacTavish."

A grumble leaving his lips, yet thankful that the one person in his life he could truly always count on didn't leave him hanging even when it comes to a damn suit.

The bow tie got quickly attached. Considering every little detail, he even managed to get his hands on one that simply needed to be closed off with a button behind the knot.

His hands straightened the fabric covering his skin, a sight not even himself considered to see anymore. Not after he exchanged his clothes with a uniform many years ago.

But he couldn't deny that it was a sight to behold, looking down on himself in the black fabric, made for special occasions like weddings or funerals or for the so called elite of society to attend their expensive little occasions.

Meetings. Dinners. Opera. Prom.

Everything so different than what he had known for the majority of his life, yet he was sure that he could blend in just fine since this occasion was hosted by a different type of elite.

His broad shoulders wouldn't stand out between the other tall men surrounding him, acting like they didn't want to rip their tongues out or cut their throats with the knife they held hidden right behind the fabric of their pants.

Just like he did - just in case.

He would be one of them. Just another face hidden behind a mask enjoying the sight of beautiful women and the taste of expensive alcohol.

A gathering of some of the most dangerous men in the world. A list where he always saw his name written on, yet fighting for a different cause.

But he wouldn't take part in any of the conversations, not if he could avoid it. And he wouldn't enjoy the taste of the alcohol or the sight of the beautiful women wrapping their arms around older men to gather their attention - and their money.

His eyes would be on his target. The main reason he agreed to do this.

Possible intel about a gun shipment, somewhere in the locked office upstairs, waiting to get into their hands to put another war to an end.

But deep inside he knew that his eyes would catch on something else. Something that he desperately tried to push away since it caused him nothing but pain.

He knew how to deal with pain. Pain was caused by injuries, injuries needed to be treated right.

A wound needed to be cleaned and sewn together.

A broken bone needed stabilization and maybe surgery.

Burned skin needed something to cool it off.

And every injury needed one thing. Time.

But it wasn't an injury that caused him pain. And if it would've been one, he didn't know how to treat something he couldn't see.

Something coming into his mind every night he was standing outside next to the small shack to take a smoke. An apology spoken in the darkness that created something like hope deep inside of him.

A face visiting him in his dreams to keep him in his peaceful slumber, just to wake up seconds later, bathed in cold sweat after the memories took over his beautiful dream.

Something holding his heart inside of his chest, clinging on it to keep it from beating out of his chest. To keep him alive for something he so desperately needed, yet denied over and over again.

The sound of a voice coming from around the corner, sending a painful reminder to a night those lips spoke words he could barely believe.

A smell in the air as he entered a room, reminding him of the smell of her skin as he leaned in close against her ear whilst making sure she knows how her betrayal felt to him.

It burned.

The thought of another man holding her created a pain deep inside of him, right behind walls he built up so many years ago.

To protect himself and to protect others.

Yet she managed to slip her delicate hands through a small crack and let him feel something so foreign for him, but at the same time so painful that he didn't know how to handle it.

Her betrayal burned.

A last look into the mirror to the man in the suit before his face was covered with a mask, but not his signature skull this time.

Only revealing his dark eyes behind the half black and half red mask with golden ornaments, his face kept hidden like it was for so many years.

His feet carried him towards the car, a familiar face already waiting for him in the drivers seat as he took his place next to him.

"Ready for this LT?"

The Scotsman always had a hint of playfulness to his voice when his hands didn't cling onto a gun.

But his own voice didn't change anymore. Not after the night those words left her lips, telling him that she fell for another man's lies and gave him crucial information.

Gave him what his heart ached for.

"Let's just get this shit over with."

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From: Y/N
Going inside in 5. On your way?

From: MacTavish
Be there in 10.
He's still pissed. Be gentle.

From: Y/N
Gonna do my job. But I'm trying my best. I promise.

From: MacTavish
You know him. He'll need more than a promise to do your best.

From: Y/N
What do you want me to do then? He won't talk to me.

From: MacTavish
With that dress I picked for you? He will talk. I promise. There's more behind that man than you know.
Heading out now. See you there.