The celebration at the base was in full swing. Cheers echoed off the walls, drinks were being passed around, and the team reveled in their hard-won victory. Voldemort was dead, the mission was a success, and the world was safe—for now. Laughter, cheers, and toasts filled the room, but as the initial excitement began to settle, a quiet tension hung in the air. Laswell, Caldwell, and Price exchanged a knowing look.

Price cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. The team knew that whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be easy. Tom, sensing the shift, glanced at Ghost, their usual banter replaced by something more serious.

“Our memories…we can’t keep them can we? The last loose strings..?” Tom asked, his voice low.

Caldwell nodded, his expression somber. “I’m afraid so. The balance between our worlds is too fragile. Long-term collaboration… it’s just not realistic.”

Laswell addressed her team, her tone calm but firm. “We’ve still got wars to fight. But knowing what we’ve seen… could we realistically stay disengaged from their world? It’s not just about keeping secrets; it’s about protecting what we still have to protect.”

The room was quiet as the team absorbed the news. Ghost and Tom stood a little apart from the rest, their eyes locked in an unspoken conversation. Finally, Tom reached out and took Ghost’s hand, his touch gentle but filled with emotion.

The room fell even quieter, the significance of the gesture settling over them. Ghost, the stoic, unflappable soldier, was showing vulnerability. It was a side of him none of them had seen before.

“Guess this is it, then,” Ghost murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Tom, his eyes softening in a way that was almost unimaginable to those who knew him.

Tom nodded, his voice equally tender. “I suppose so… but at least we got here, yeah?”

Ghost hesitated for a moment, then made a decision. Slowly, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing his face to the room. Gasps echoed through the space—everyone, except Price, was stunned. Price just gave a small, approving nod.

Without another word, Ghost leaned in and kissed Tom. The room froze, shocked into silence by the unexpected display. The kiss was brief, but it carried a depth of emotion that was unmistakable.

Ghost pulled back slightly, a rare smile playing on his lips. “Well, the fans probably never saw that coming.”

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Tom chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. “Well, none of our universes was realistic anyway. It’s just fanfic after all.” He gave Ghost a mischievous grin before adding, “Come here, you gorgeous stoic bastard,” and pulled him in for a second, more passionate kiss.

The room erupted into cheers, laughter, and hoots of encouragement. Even Laswell and Caldwell exchanged surprised looks, not quite believing what they were seeing. The playful banter and unexpected romance added a layer of humor that lightened the otherwise intense atmosphere.

Price’s voice cut through the noise, filled with a rare warmth. “Nice to see you, Mr. Riley.”

Before Ghost could respond, Laswell broke character with a rare grin. “I have to say, Mr. Riley, you’re actually quite handsome. Never would’ve guessed under that mask.”

The room fell silent for a split second before erupting into laughter again, the playful ribbing continuing as Ghost’s rare smile grew a bit wider.

Tom, still grinning from ear to ear, gave Ghost a playful nudge. “Seems like you’ve got some admirers, mate.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Farah said, mock indignation in her voice. “All these years, and you’ve never shown us your face?”

Ghost shrugged, still holding onto Tom’s hand. “Figured if I was going to do it, might as well make it memorable. Not like anyone will remember anyway”

Gaz, leaning against the wall with a smirk, chimed in, “Don’t worry, I got a sneak peek back in the day. But still, can’t believe you kept us in the dark all this time.”

Tom, still grinning from ear to ear, gave Ghost a playful nudge. “Seems like you’ve got some explaining to do, mate.”

The room was filled with laughter and camaraderie, but as the noise began to die down, the mood shifted back to the somber reality of what was about to happen. Caldwell stepped forward, raising his wand. The team fell silent again, preparing for the memory wipe.

Before the spell was cast, Price spoke up, his voice steady. “We’ll store these memories in a Pensieve, just in case we need to come together again. Laswell, Caldwell, and I will keep ours—someone has to remember, to be ready.”

Caldwell nodded, adding, “And don’t worry, lads. When you retire, the memories will be restored. You’ll get them back. Consider it a promise.”

Ghost and Tom exchanged a glance, a small smile shared between them. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Before the final moment, Gaz broke the silence, his tone reflective. “We never did this for glory.”

“Never for recognition,” Farah added, her voice steady.

“We did it because a job needed to be done,” Soap chimed in, the words carrying a deep sense of duty.

“Because we are the silent guardians,” murmured Ghost, putting his mask back on and holding Tom’s hand, both their pride clear.

Price looked at his team, his gaze sweeping over each of them before he spoke. “We do it because it’s our Call of Duty.”

Caldwell’s wand glowed as he began the memory wipe, the room fading to black as each team member’s memory of this extraordinary mission was carefully erased, leaving only the lingering sense of duty and camaraderie that had always driven them.

The End…or is it?