Chapter Text
The air was heavy with the smell of wet iron, The foul metallic odour coated every crevice of the cell. Small chains chimed in the steady sway of clean breeze that forced its way through undercuts of doors, its good naturedly sense turned foul when mixed with the unforgivable sins caked to the walls of the cell block. How many lives had they taken to make the smell that awful?
It didnt matter. None of it mattered, Not after what he had seen. The things they had shown him; Such untold horrors should never have existed, but they made it happen. Screams of anguish and pleaded suicide as skin roughened and cracked, purpled in its hue. Eyes once filled with a hope for a future that dripped for mercy, only to be buried under a cataclysm of mindless obedience. Enough nightmare fuel to last a person the rest of their life.
A young boy grazed his index finger over fresh scars, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Horrid events played over and over like a broken VHS tape as he lay in a cold cell, wrists bound and mouth gagged. He stared up at the greyed ceiling and imagined it was the night sky, longing eyes counted the stars as they twinkled and danced. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen them, his life consisted of this damp, smelling cell now and whenever he was let out he was met with a brown burlap sack that scratched at his skin. It reeked of stale earth.
The boy sighed, frustration flowed from his nose. He could barely remember how he had ended up a prisoner, the memory faded on the outer edges of his mind. But it was still there, through sheer will it clung on for existence. Tears began to form and threatened to flow, So many lives, lost.
A dirt stained shoulder wiped the waterworks from his face as the bitter remains of broken memories droned on. Anger rose from the deepest reaches of his being, bubbled and spat its way up and up. Skin tensed with inexplicable rage as his knuckled cracked from an unended grip, tightened further and further as the images flashed through a boiled mind. He would make them pay, no matter what it took. Every fibre of his being begged to rip their very souls a part.
A familiar clunking sound echoed into the room, his eyes landed on the great iron door opposite as it swung open on its hinges. Brow furrowed with hatred as a group of men in deep red tactical uniforms flooded inside; weapons brandished on every inch of their fabrics and stately, styled bird symbols printed to their armbands. They all stared straight ahead, Rifles held and ready to punish any misdoing. Like good little dogs, tails bouncing side to side as they waited for masters orders.
All except one man, who sauntered in wearing nothing but black, a grimy smile lifted weathered cheeks. The young boy bit down into his gag, seethed and drooled in fury, twisted and squirmed in his bindings like a bear trapped in its cage; one that wanted so desperately to get free, to pummel the shit eating grin from that bastard's face. A thick accent prickled against sore ears:
“Oh come now cariño, don't get so worked up”
The man in black had closed the gap between them, kneeled down so that they were both eye level. Wrathful Honey brown eyes glared into sickeningly playful greys. A hand reached out and gently cupped the bound childs chin, defiance made him pull away; breath heavy, frantic. But the grip was stronger.
“Now are you going to be a good boy for me? Or do I have to punish you again?”
-October 15th, 2024. 11:38AM-
Sunny was lurched forward in the rigid seat as the craft soared through the air, his seatbelt kept the world stationary. Shaky hands raised up and gently rubbed the nightmare from tired eyes, leather gloves scratched away at the eyelids.
“Get some good sleep lad?”
A raspy voice spoke from the side, gaining Sunny's attention, his head turned. The seat beside him was occupied by an older fellow, a kind expression looked down over the young man; eyes adorned with sparkles to cover the atrocities they had seen, a coffee brown beard decorated the frame of his face and smile only missing the sweet spot of his chin, grey hairs blended within.
“Could’ve been better, Captain” Sunny averted the man's gaze, a sudden thought of his nightmare visible and discernible as day on his face scared him into avoidance. The Captain would be able to read every second and minute of the treacherous dream as easily as watching a movie, He probably already had.
“Nervous?”
He had to admit, he was. Sunny still couldn’t believe they had trusted him with this, thankful, but bewildered. The Captain knew about his past, who he had been. What he had done. Trust placed in an Operative such as that surely wasnt a good idea, a walking time bomb of a disaster; Sunny had been lucky the SAS had accepted him in the first place. The thought made his eyes drop with shame.
Yet here he was, sat with the Captain John Price.
A slight nod was all he could muster in return.
“Dont worry” A firm hand placed itself on Sunny’s shoulder, its five appendages squeezed gently.
“You’ll fit right in”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“Lads, I want you to meet Sunny Solomon”
Awkward stares crossed the room, saying a thousand words without a single sound.
Sunny stood there, hands grasped firmly behind his back and eyes up at the sky. A thumb caressed over old scars on wartorn fingers as he nervously waited for the next sentence to break the stiff silence.
“He's a remarkable close combat soldier and mercenary trained in the SAS and Government Black ops. And He’s been scouted and recruited to join the 141”
The three men fidgeted in their stance, a telltale sign that they hadn’t known this was to happen, a surprise to them just like when his former captain had relayed the news. Sunny wondered what they thought, how they would react. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. He couldn’t stand the idea of people not liking him; their words and actions only niceties due to their shared commitment to work together.
Sunny scanned their faces while the Captain spoke. The Youngest one he recognised as Sergeant Kyle Garrick, his eyes full of uncertainty and confusion as they trailed over Sunny's form. Sunny hoped the uncertainty was due to the sudden change in their team and not because he looked like a disappointment.
Then there was Sergeant John McTavish. Or Soap as he preferred to be called. He looked to be rather engaged in Captain Price's words, stealing quick glances over at sunny. Face filled with a soft expression and inviting smile that was so genuine the beams of his teeth could be seen. A curved whitish scar decorated the space below his bottom lip, it added a nice accent to the man. At least that was an improvement from the last.
He wanted to take in more of the first two Operators characteristics, understand them a bit more and learn who they were through their stirred stances. But he couldn't help being distracted by the gaze that bored into his face from the side; exposed eyes, neatly encompassed by a painted balaclava, stared, fresh smudges of black face paint coated the uncovered skin. They belonged to a hulking frame of a man that oozed a skin prickling intimidation, a notoriously worn skeletal mask clipped to the frontmost section of his face. The calloused Operator leaned against a busied desk, arms folded and tattoos bulged.
Even a fool would know who this was; the Spectre himself. A man so infamous that other soldiers avoided gossip about him, lest they summon the wraith to their rooms for a night of terror. A long line of unspoken deeds graced this mans past and his fingers were soaked in buckets of stolen lives, Blood would coat every inch of his reclused stance in a never ending downpour if all their owners slit their wrists above him, a chance at payback.
He grimaced, dark pupils gazed straight into Sunny’s being, Methodically trying to undress the younger man's history; figure out who he was before interaction ever became an option. An uncomfortable, mutual stare off flared up as Sunny became trapped within the apparitions analytical eyes, their presence left shadowed footsteps all over Sunny's figure as they scanned, processed, concluded.
A final wording from the Captain broke sunny from his trance and he looked away, his body stewed in the uncomfortable stripping the foreign eyes had just performed. Clammy hands rubbed faster over the scars, fresh plump skin now replaced with a raw red tinge that yearned for a comfort that was less destructive. His stomach turned.
“I’m sure you will all do your best to make him feel welcomed”
Sunny cleared a dry throat and the unease with it.
“Its an honour to meet you all”
A formal greeting, one that was expected of him when being in the presence of such skilled soldiers. But he meant it, the honour was truly his. Everyone had heard stories about the 141 and their feats, legends in their own right. Everything they had accomplished made them a team to be respected, but also feared; Depending on what side of the coin you belonged. The understanding of a chance to join the team hadn't hit him yet, even being in the room with them didn't help to make the picture any clearer. It had Landed here through a mere chance of events, the jealousy of all those that had found out back at the old base repeated in his head; this was an opportunity that thousands of soldiers spent their military careers in wait of, only being able to satisfy that itch in sleepy afterhours dreams.
He hoped he would get a chance to prove himself.
After all the formalities were done, they all greeted the young man and welcomed him on board, even the large, intimidating Ghost gave a simple, reluctant nod of acknowledgement. He was hoping for more but this he would take, it was better than a complete rejection from the hulking giant.
Sergeant Mctavish had been kind enough to offer to show Sunny where his quarters were so he could get settled in. Sunny obviously accepted, not about to deny his Sergeant on the first day.
As they walked through the winding halls of the base, Soap chatted and asked all manner of things: how the journey had been, what each room they passed housed inside, what songs he liked to listen to.
And as much as Sunny wanted to engage in the conversation, to tell Soap how he was so exhausted from his previous training earlier in the week or how his favourite songs were from some indie band his sister had shown him, The nerves wouldn’t stop. The unease and cold worry filled his veins and spilled over like a glass too full, He hoped it didn't come across as rude.
“An’ here ya are”
They both stopped at a wooden door, fresh coats of paint seemed to have been pasted on top; Blue, ultramarine to be exact. His favourite colour.
An appreciative smile tugged at his lips as the dots added up, that's why Captain price had asked him his favourite colour weeks ago.
“A wondered why they were fixin’ up this one. It’s been used for Nish for ages”
Soap jabbed a thumb at the door, his accent painted his dialect and made him sound like he was fresh from the north. He looked at sunny before a firm nod at the wooden entrance was given, a motion for him to open it.
Sunny took the handle in his palm and squeezed, the cold metal rubbed against his clammy skin as his fingers wrapped around the smooth metallic prong; shaking ever so slightly. This nervousness was stupid, he was only opening a door it made no sense to be this big of a deal. what could be the reason? Perhaps it was the unavoidable chat he had with Price before they boarded the plane, the way his lips curled down into a serious line as he spoke, reasons and truths had flowed from the older mans mouth like a pandoras box opened for unachieved possibilities to flood out. Or perhaps it was the imagined look of disappointment on his Squads face when he inevitably fucked up. Or perhaps his nerves were just made of jelly, Sweet and processed but flimsy to the curious touch.
Hesitation took over and for a few seconds he stood there, the handle in his grip and eyes fixed on the brush strokes in the cool coloured door.
Soap knitted his brow together in confusion.
“C’mon lad, Go inside”
Soaps hand pressed down on Sunny’s as he took charge of opening the door, he leaned into it as it swung open and Sunny felt a gentle hand place itself on his lower back, it guided him into the dimly lit space.
It was nice. As nice as military accommodations could be; A bed strewn with a greyish duvet and white pillows, a bedside table with three shelves that looked spacious enough for all his personal belongings, and an old scratched wardrobe for clothes. There was even a window that looked out into the courtyard beyond.
His last accom hadnt even had a proper working light, let alone a window. Plus he had to share it with three other men, The endless drawl of midnight snores made it next to impossible to get any real sleep.
“Tis not much, but it’ll do ya just rite”
A smile formed on a nervous face.
“Thank you, Sergeant”
“Please, call me Soap”
The first day had been quite uneventful, it had mostly consisted of tours: showers, bathrooms, weapons storage, canteen -the food didnt look great-, communications, Medics and so on and on. Sunny burned the layout into his memory, he wanted to get up to speed as fast as he could so he wasn’t a hindrance to the others.
Soap was a constant talker, it seemed as though the Sergeant never ran out of things to say; His mouth constantly opened and closed to chew on vowels and consonants before it spat them out in hurried succession. It was a charm in its own way; he seemed to always speak with such exaggerated enthusiasm no matter how dull the topic may be, a powerful eagerness that had a strange allure to it so any listener couldn't help themselves, no choice but to follow along to the Hyper-active rambles of the scotsman. It made listening all the more of a treat. It was nice, and sunny learned a lot in the meantime.
“Oo’ by the wae, How’r ya with a gun? Can ya shoot the peas out of a pod?”
The last part caught sunny off guard for a split second, but he nodded.
“My accuracy is good, mid range is my sweet spot, but I'm more of a close combat specialist. I always did want to learn to use a sniper though.”
Soaps eyes widened at his words, a cheeky smile formed from his lips.
“Ah can teach ya? If ya fancy”
“Really?”
He hummed a confirmation, his eyes softened as they looked upon Sunny’s surprised face.
“Buh it can wait, I’m pure famished. Lets go eat”.
On the way to the canteen, Sunny peered into a few more rooms they hadn't crossed previously, a mental note taken of the different path they were on. With inquisitive eyes glued to every door frame and window they could see, one room stood out in particular. A faint, red glow shone from the undercut of the door, while an oversized sheet of laminated whiteness was pasted to its body, NO ENTRY sprawled across the otherwise blank rectangle.
“What’s that room?”
Soap spun around to face the direction Sunny pointed. His casual smile deflated and a cold frown took its place once he saw the object of interest. Soaps lips narrowed, Swallowed hard before an answer came out.
“Dinnae go in there, it's not important”
And that was that, he continued his walk.
Odd
Sunny couldnt help but stare back at the door, what could possibly be behind it that made the Sergeant so uncomfortable? So many ideas and possibilities flooded his brain but he shook them away to catch up with his team member.
It was a long walk till they reached the canteen but when they did they found it bustled with activity. So many soldiers scattered around various tables, all seemed jolly and lively as they laughed with one another; breaks only taken to shovel food into their gaped mouths.
Soap tugged on Sunny’s Shirt and led him to a table far off to the left where he saw the rest of 141 already seated, The sun to their backs as it set through the large tinted windows.
“Wha’ ya want to eat lad? I'll go sort it”
Offering to help seemed to come naturally to the giddied man, like his sole reason for being placed on this earth was to help others every which way he could, no matter how menial the task may be.
“Oh uhh, I'll just have what you have”
A boring answer, but sunny hadnt taken the time to even read what was on the menu today, it could’ve been dog water soup for all he knew. Even Some crazy slimed experiment that could get up and walk off his plate if he poked it hard enough. But he wasnt hungry anyway, all the emotions he had felt today made his stomach turn at the thought of food. Soap seemed happy with his answer though, a big smile on his face as he walked off further into the room, his torso twisted left and right to stretch tired muscles.
Sunny turned his attention to the two men sat opposite, one completely enveloped in a book; The cover red and shiny with the words ‘The mystery of Jane Allaways Disappearance’ Plastered on the cover. The other had his mask pulled up to his nose, dark pink lips revealed as they took a sip of a browned liquid. The repugnant smell confirmed it was coffee. God, Sunny couldn't stand coffee.
But the smell didnt linger in his mind too much, instead all focus was on the Lieutenant's exposed face and he couldnt help but look over the various burn marks and scars that decorated the larger mans pale skin. Sunny moved his gaze away before he was caught, but kept the lieutenant in the corner of his eye; too transfixed on the various shades of purple and pink that snaked their way from the lower neck to the jaw, even going further under the mask. More interestingly, was the lengthy, curved indents that trailed their way from the outer corners of dried lips and aimed up to the beginnings of covered ears; The mask shielded the finished tails of the whited scars and left their trails unknown, only guesses to decide their travels.
“Somethin’ on my face?”
Fuck.
“Ah no of course not, sorry. I-I just think your mask is..cool”
What a stupid cover up. If the nervous stutter hadn't given away his lie then the lame response itself definitely did. The lieutenant didn't say anything else, just stared back with cold, heavy eyes.
An awkward silence fell over the table, Even Sergeant Garrick pulled a curious head from his book to look between the two of them.
“So sunny, how’re you finding things here?”
The sergeant spoke with a smile, he clearly sensed the awkwardness around them and did what he could to put it at ease.
“It’s a lot bigger than my old base. I’m excited to use the courtyard tomorrow and run some laps”
Sergeant Garrick's interest peaked at these words, the book placed down carefully so as to not lose his place.
“Oh you like running? Maybe we could go on a run together some time”
A kind offer, but Sunny couldn’t help feel guilty at the way his body went cold with rejection. Running was the only way sunny could clear away the voices and murmurs; he would endlessly run for hours as it helped to deafen the thoughts that cried for attention in his mind. Not to mention the speed and the way the wind whipped at his bare skin, they were the best parts and he couldn't enjoy them with someone in tow. Seclusion just made it easier.
The words ‘No thank you’ formed in a reluctant mouth and were locked and loaded, ready to fire. But he couldn’t say that, that was rude. Firm teeth pressed down on a loose tongue, a new response emerged.
“Sure, I'd love to!”
A confirmed nod and a small smile were the only response back, The conversation seemed over but it didnt matter as Soap planted himself down onto the bench with two trays in hand. Immediately, he took up the empty room to talk.
“‘ ’Ere ya go laddie, It might look a bi’ manky but isnae half bad. When you lose your tastebuds tha’ is”
The last words came through stifled laughs as Soap slid the tray over, the steel plate carried a heap of browns and greys all mushed together, a close sight to what he imagined his abominable walking experiment to look like, maybe he should poke it just to be sure. Surprisingly though, there were some actual vegetables off to the side and an apple that had a fresh glow to it, its half-half surface of green and red glistened in the static light above.
Perhaps I’ll just take the apple
Soap continued to fill the space around them with an uncontrolled voice, his new objective to bug the other sergeant with question after question about his book.
“So, shes missin’ an ‘er husband was the last one tah see her? Its obviously him then, no?”
“No Soap, its not as simple as that”
“Hows it nae as simple as tha’? I woulda solved this awn the first page”
Relentlessly they went back and forth, Soap pushed the narrative that he’d be a great detective given the chance and Sergeant Garrick complained that he wouldnt because ‘he’s so annoying no one would help him’
A smile couldn’t help but sneak onto Sunny's face as he watched the two have a heated battle of who was the bigger idiot, Soap used his loud voice to overpower the Sergeant's reasonable one.
Sunny’s eyes flicked to the masked man opposite him, surprised to catch him amused as he watched the two as well. His eyes glowed with a tint of joy.
Sunny picked up the apple, What had he been so nervous about; surely this would all be fine.
The bite was delicious.