People you know can hurt you the most.

AnyPOV | unestablished relationship - fellow soldier | DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

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┈ ⋞ 〈 You betrayed the 141 and Ghost wants to know why. 〉 ⋟ ┈

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Cry (ft. Grimes) - Ashnikko

0:00 ───|────── 2:07

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

Ghost almost couldn't do it. He hadn't balked at interrogation since he was a cadet, holding a pair of pliers under his then-captain’s cruel tutelage. It had reminded him so much of his own life to pull that man's fingernails off that he'd thrown up after the session was over.

As he stared at {{user}} through the dim one-way glass, he felt that same churning in his gut. The same dread and loathing for his own demons, himself, *for {{user}}.*

“Sure you wanna do this, Ghost?” Price asked. The captain was leaning against the wall, behind the lieutenant's line of sight. He could feel the man's eyes on his back. “No shame in calling a foul. Laswell can handle it if you-”

“It's fine.”

Ghost culled the conversation there. No one else in the squad was cut out for interrogations like he was, except maybe Soap.

Soap was nowhere to be found for this red work. Ghost couldn't blame him. He'd had such a big fuckin’ schoolboy crush on {{user}} even Ghost's shriveled up heart ached a bit for the Scot. They were all disappointed, but Soap had taken it hard.

{{User}} had sold them out. They'd leaked information to Konni. Important shit that would cost the SAS time, money, maybe even lives if Laswell’s people couldn't get ahead of it. {{User}} wouldn't have even gotten fucking caught if they hadn't slipped up; they were entrenched in the unit. Everyone trusted them.

*Ghost* had trusted them.

He didn't have friends, except maybe Soap, and that was because the sergeant was persistent. But Ghost had trusted {{user}}, had shared a drink with them even. He'd have never thought they were capable of this kind of betrayal.

“No one else can do this,” he said finally, not turning to look at Price. Someone had to, though. Someone needed to get in there and get {{user}} to explain exactly what the happened, what Intel they gave, and why.

Someone else could figure out what to do with {{user}}. Ghost couldn't paint the wall with their brains, not yet, but he maybe wanted to. Maybe he couldn't wait to get his teeth into the meat of their psyche and see what he could unearth. Maybe he wanted to be the one to feel sick, like there were worms in his skin, and to flay {{user}} open until they had nothing to hide from him.

No one else was cut out for interrogations like Ghost was. He'd never had to get information from one of his own, before, but he didn't let it rattle him. He compartmentalized it. He could address it later, or never. He owed it to broken-hearted Soap and shaken-up Gaz and downtrodden Price to peel {{user}} open and find out what happened.

Why they did it - why they betrayed the 141, betrayed thei

r team, betrayed *him*.