Chapter Text
The sky was dim and gray, but despite it almost being mid day the temperature hadn’t let up.
“Why are we even out here, Lt?” Soap whined, holding his rifle close to his chest as he kicked at the snow.
Ghost shot Soap a look and adjusted his beanie, pulling it further over his ears. “Because we were told to meet up here. You think I enjoy being out in the snow?”
They were posted up on the opposite side of a mountain and got the order to get over to the exfil point. The planned exfil point was nestled at the base of the mountain, surrounded by towering pine trees with dense branches. Soap swatted at said branches, growing more annoyed with each eye level branch.
“I hate pine trees and the damn needles-” Soap grumbled under his breath, brows scrunching together beneath his fleece cap.
“Stop complaining, Johnny. We’re almost there.” Ghost would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same way, but he knew complaining wouldn’t help.
Soap continued to grumble, keeping his voice low enough for Ghost to not understand what he was saying. Eventually silence fell between them, the only sound that could be heard was the crunching of snow beneath their boots. As they drew closer to the opening, the trees were further apart and the branches grew sparse. Ghost slowed to a halt and reached for his radio when he saw Soap take several steps forward, staring off to their left.
“Aye, Lt. You see that?” Soap slung his rifle over his shoulder and glanced back at Ghost, pointing over to where he was previously looking.
“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost looked up from his radio to look where Soap was pointing.
It looked like something was dragged through the snow, leaving a trail of red. The divot stopped at the edge of the clearing, leaving a pool of blood stained snow. He drew his pistol from his hip and slowly began to make his way over to the trail, Soap followed closely with rifle in hand. When they reached the blood covered snow, Ghost looked where it came from and swore under his breath.
“What the fuck is that?”
The room was silent, deadly silent as all eyes were locked onto their colleague. Ever since the accident, König wasn't ever quite the same. The headaches and brain fog were one thing, but the mood swings and lapse in memory were another. Thankfully the mood swings were so few and far between, but when he hit a low, it was a pendulum of agitation and heightened anxiety. The memory loss was something that never resolved itself and never fully regained those memories from before the accident. Overall he was doing better than a few months prior, but sometimes it felt like he had woken up from that coma.
“König? You okay mate?” A gentle voice called out from across the conference table.
The voice was muffled, sounding similar to when he's wearing his ear protection and someone's trying to talk to him. König could hear ringing start to pick up, growing in volume then disappearing after a few seconds. His eyes were locked in on the papers that sat in front of him, his pen laying discarded on the table.
“Hey, König!” The same voice called out, this time concern with panic biting through their tone.
It was enough to pull König out of whatever extradimensional space he was in. Slowly he rose his head and his surrounding team averted their eyes away from him. It wasn't until his hand mindlessly began to grip a piece of loose fabric, did he realize he had his hood in hand. Panic pricked at the back of his neck, but he took a deep breath to try and keep that feeling at bay. König looked around, seeing who was with him and he saw Gaz sitting directly across from him with a panicked look on his face.
“I'm fine.” König cleared his throat and grabbed his pen, giving it a click for good measure. “We can get back to work now.”
“Son, do you want to put your hood back on? We can give you a moment.” The slightly raspy voice was easily recognized as Price and the tone was soft, as if he was speaking to a scared child.
“I'm fine.” König repeated, his eyes flickering over to Price who only gave him a small nod.
Even as he looked down to the papers, he could still feel the heavy gaze from the others. If Soap or Ghost were present, they’d never drop it, but König knew better. The team was tight knit and kept very little from each other to include König’s little episodes. On top of that, they tend to overreact nowadays and to his knowledge, they did the same thing after Ghost had a nasty injury in ‘09.
After a few minutes, the feeling of eyes on him went away and his mind was put at ease. He quietly read over the files and filled out each section as he went, though he hadn’t made it more than a few minutes before a paper was slid over to him. The paper was folded and the black ink had transferred to the back of the paper. König unfolded the paper and read over the neat writing.
You good?
It didn't take a genius to know that the note was from Roach, seeing as he was sitting beside him. If it weren't for that, Roach's handwriting would've given him away. He was notorious for having the nicest handwriting. König didn't want to answer, he already did, but he wrote a reply anyway
Yes
König didn't bother folding it up again before sliding it back. He wasn't bothered for the rest of their weekly paperwork meet up. As he was packing up his things, he stopped half way and slipped his hood over his head, adjusting it with one hand. Once it was all in order, he picked up his things and muttered a good night as he walked out. He half expected to be left alone, but he should've known better because hot on his heels was Gaz.
“I'll walk with you, if that's okay?” Gaz caught up quickly, falling into step with König.
He gave a lazy shrug and kept quiet, making sure to look forward instead of looking over at Gaz.
Gaz looked over at König, biting in the inside of his cheek as he thought of what to say. “They're supposed to be back soon.”
Admittedly, that made König cave in at hearing his boyfriend would be home soon. “That's good.”
“Listen, I know you said you're fine, but you can tell us anything.” Gaz usually had a better way with words, but his brain wouldn't slow down long enough.
“You don't seem to believe me.” König pushed open the front door to the building, holding it open for Gaz.
“No, I do.” It's just that you're either stubborn or you don't think you have a problem.
They fell into a silence that was neither comfortable or tense, but more or less awkward. It seemed like both men had wanted to say more, but were too worried to cut the other person off. König had a confession on the tip of his tongue, an idea that he hadn't even told Ghost or Soap. By the time they reached the barracks, König decided to spill his secret. His hand hovered over the handle of the barracks main door as he gathered the courage to say it.
“I'm thinking about leaving.” König thought the blanket of guilt would be pulled off of him, but it felt like he was growing more suffocated.
“Pardon?” Gaz faced König, disbelief written over his face. “Leaving to go where?”
König shrugged and pulled open the door. “I don't know, maybe I'll go back to Austria.”
“Austria? What will you be doing over there?” Gaz's voice trailed off as he came to the realization. “You want to get out?”
“It might be for the best.” König didn’t want to make it a bigger deal than it was, seeing as it was just an idea.
Another bout of silence fell between them as König waved Gaz inside and followed him down the hall. He could see that Gaz was looking over at him every few seconds, the look he held on his face would morph each time. Gaz rushed to step in front of König, sticking his arm out to stop him. They stared at each other for a moment and that moment turned into a minute, Gaz's hand not moving from König's chest.
Gaz's brows were tightly knitted and his jaw was clenched. “For the best? Are you being serious right now? What do you mean by that?”
The angered tone caught König off guard enough that he looked up and down the hallway to see if there was a witness. He could feel his cheeks go hot and his heart pick up. “I’m saying that if I’m not getting better and if I get out-”
“Does Ghost know?” Gaz quickly interrupted, wanting to shut that idea down as quickly as he could.
“No, he doesn’t and you won't tell him.” König frowned under his hood and swatted Gaz's hand from his chest. “About any of this.”
“Fine. I won't tell him.” Gaz put his hand up in faux defense.
König could feel his head begin to throb, pain building behind his eyes. “Good. I will see you tomorrow.”
It couldn't have been more than a second of silence afterward before König began to walk down the hallway to his room as if nothing happened. In a way- nothing of any real importance did, but that could be up for debate. He could feel Gaz watching him as he approached his door. It made his stomach twist into knots and the feeling didn’t dim even as he entered his room. The door shut quietly behind him, giving him the perfect surface to lean against. König sucked in a deep breath, filling up his lungs as much as he could before exhaling slowly.
All he wanted to do was sleep, to dream of a universe where he didn’t go into a coma or lose his memory. He just wanted to be normal and to not be treated like he was sick. König pushed himself off of the door and trudged over to his desk, where the lamp sat still on from earlier in the day. Setting down the papers on the corner, he pulled out the chair and sat down. With a small sigh, he tugged off his hood and brushed a hand through his hair. On the back corner of the small desk sat his stack of notebooks, only standing at two books high. One was leather and another was black, both having worn pages and neither able to fully close. König of course knew what was in them, he was the one who wrote in them, but he never enjoyed reading them.
Ghost encouraged him to write about anything and everything, not just about his day or important information. While König took this advice, he hadn’t done creative writing outside of one or two little stories he recalled from childhood. König rested his hands on the desk, gently tapping the surface rhythmically before reaching out for the leather notebook and a pen. He flipped to a blank page and stared down at the blank paper, the off white pages wiping away any ideas his mind may have had. Then an idea finally came to him and the words finally flowed from the pen.
‘When I was a kid, I admired my parents' love. It was always genuine and never once did they raise their voice at each other, at least never in front of me. They always supported each other and gave each other their all. I always wanted to have someone like that and I never thought I would have someone like that. That dream went down the drain when I started my new career. Then I met him. Him with the piercing eyes and a stunning smile that few get to see. I may not remember everything about when we met, but I do know he was something. A siren drawing me into the depths of the ocean, trapping me in his arms and I don’t want to be anywhere else.
When I lost my memory he was so patient every step of the way and he took care of me when I could barely take care of myself. I was told that he would sit with me every day and read to me, which is more than I would ever ask of someone, but I never asked him to. ‘
König faltered slightly, tapping the tip of the pen on the top of the page leaving tiny dots of ink. He could feel anger bubble under his skin again, the whole day was bothering him. He had woken up far before his alarm was set to go off and couldn't fall back asleep, his anxiety was heightened and his stomach was unsettled since the moment he opened his eyes. König felt his hand shake and when he looked down he realized how tight he was gripping his pen. Dropping the pen onto the desk he stood up and flopped onto his bed, kicking off his shoes haphazardly.
The blank ceiling was anything but interesting, yet he found himself staring up at it. Not that he had anything else to do or had anything else to take his mind off his below satisfactory day. Thinking back to his and Gaz's conversation, something that Gaz said stuck out. Does Ghost know ? König had answered no, but was Gaz asking about him leaving the team or about him not getting better? Regardless, his answer would be the same or would it? König knew he had come a long way since it happened, but it felt like he hit a wall- like he's stuck in a glass tunnel with the only way out is going back.
He knew he was worse and he knows the team only wants to help, but they are on the opposite side of the glass watching him. König found himself rolling onto his side, reluctantly closing his eyes and hoped sleep would come soon.
“Mole’s face beamed at the sight of all these objects so dear to him, and he hurried Rat
through the door, lit a lamp in the hall, and took one glance round his old home-”
“Are you reading out loud?” König playfully accused, walking into Ghost's room with a well hidden smile.
Ghost was sitting at his desk with a book splayed open on his lap. When he looked up at König, he hastily shut the book, using his pointer finger as a temporary bookmark. “I was, yes.”
König sat on the edge of the bed, slipping off his hood and flashing Ghost a smile. “May I ask what you are reading?”
“Wind and the willows.” Ghost tilted the book to show König the plain cover. “Interesting book, have you read it?”
“I haven't.” König admitted softly. “Is it a children's book?”
Ghost gave a shrug as he stood up to properly greet his partner. “I suppose so. I'm surprised you haven't read it.”
“I read old books.”
“I think you’d enjoy it.”
“Will you read it to me?”
“Anything for you.”
It was just a memory, one that was relatively recent, but it felt like it was so long ago. The little snippet was a blur, hardly able to discern who said what and when it was said. What makes a human a person? What makes them memorable? How can someone be memorable without any memory of them? König didn’t feel memorable, at least not to himself. Since his coma he felt like he’s been living in a movie that was being filmed in first person, reading his life from a script. He didn’t feel real, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone.
All he wanted was to feel like he was in the moment with everyone else, not playing a game of sort it out with his own mind. There was no feeling comfortable anymore, always wondering if there was an inside joke he was supposed to understand or a secret he was supposed to keep. He wasn’t the same as he was and he never will be. It was a silent burden he bore and it was crushing him.