Chapter Text
It is definitely not his first time in this hospital, you know, seen as his job is life threatening…
He hated staring at the stupid, tacky, tiled ceiling of the room. It was so white, as if he was in a psych ward for simply getting blown up— oh right, his injury. Maybe he wasn’t as careful as he should’ve been, maybe something slipped his mind for the first time and his rank of Lieutenant just means nothing because it should be pretty self explanatory not to walk into a possibly rigged building. He’s beat himself up for this for hours out of boredom so let’s not dig it all back up out the grave, in simple terms; he’s an idiot.
The creaky white door opens slowly, the person on the other side waiting a moment for any protest before allowing themselves in. Price, the man himself who didn’t speak to Ghost all day like an angry dad who got called from the school about aggressive behaviour or something. The old bastard have him a look up and down, lips pressed into a fine line so he didn’t say anything too wrong, he settled with; “You might need leave for this one.”
…
Oh okay asshole thinks he’s funny now?
”Gee, wha’ gave tha’ away, sir?” Ghost spoke, voice slurred from pain meds he tried to refuse.
The captain just grinned, sighing as he sat on the chair opposite to Ghosts bed.
”Not seen your face in a good while, new scar?”
”Enough with the small talk, how much time am I being given?” Ghost sighed, dreading the thought of leave because imagine being home for like 3 weeks—
“4-6 Months, depending on conditions.”
…
”Absolutely the fuck not-“
”This isn’t a debate Simon. You were blown up, doctors are surprised you even still have your limbs, you have many new burn scars so congrats and it took you 2 months already to even get to this stage so no— you are going to take at least 5 months.”
A beat goes past.
”And who will replace me?”
”Thats your main concern?”
”Naturally.”
Price groans, “Don’t let it, Laswell knows people.” John stands, heading towards the door before stating quickly.
”One more week in here, flight leaves at 4am so you’re there for 8 and contact me if you are struggling, clear?”
God i hates that tone. ‘I care about you Simon!’ Like stop fussing over me before I blow up again…
”Yes, Sir.”