Synopsis: SOAP AND GHOST HAVE LIKE MUTUAL PINING GOING ON (THEYRE NOT TOGETHER BC NEITHER WILL ADMIT THEIR FEELINGS) AND THEY SOMETIMES SPEND THE NIGHTS TOGETHER YADA YADA YADA… AND THEN SOAP GETS A SUICIDE MISSION THAT GHOST DIDNT KNOW ABOUT AND ONCE HE HEARS THAT THE MISSION WAS A SUCCESS HE RUSHES TO THE SCENE WHERE SOAP DIES IN HIS ARMS.
(This lovely plot was made by my friend when I asked him to give me a plot. I changed a few things here and there but story wise, it doesn’t change a thing. This was mostly written for my friend. Enjoy :D)
After the 141 had dealt with Hassan and reclaimed the Los Vaqueros’ base. They have received two new assignments from Laswell. Finding and neutralising Shepherd and capture or kill Makarov. His stunt against the Shadow Company’s convoy has gotten the attention of the CIA. With Shepherd disappearing from the grid, Laswell is now calling the shots. She has cooked up a plan and is determined to put an end to Shepherd. She calls the 141 to the briefing room to explain the mission.
One by one the members of the task force enter the small room. She greets them all with a nod and motions for them to take a seat. “Alright, listen up. With no new leads on Makarov and facing a dead end. We will have to take a step back and wait till he resurfaces. Shepherd however, is a different case. We have received intel by Los Vaqueros that Shepherd has been in bed with the Cartel. Unfortunately, they tried to keep her detained but she what eventually let go. But our boys have been keeping an eye on them and overheard them talking about Shepherd.”
Before Price can say a word she interrupts him, “we have one problem. We didn’t find Graves’ body in the tank. And we suspect him to have returned to Shepherd.” This peaks Soap’s interest.
“I blew that tank to shreds, and you’re telling me that bastard is still kicking.”
“Unfortunately that seems to be the case. Without a body, there’s no guarantee he’s KIA. If he happens to be in the crossfire. You all have execute authority. The new lead about Shepherd calls for a reunion of Ghost Team. I have already spoken with Alejandro, you will be sent to Las Almas tomorrow at sunrise to discuss this matter. I advise you to start packing. Dismissed.”
They all file out of the room and head to their private quarters to start packing and prepare themselves for tomorrow morning.
Soap is laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He can’t help but think about Graves. He was sure that Graves was killed in the tank when it exploded. Why was there no trace of him in there? He turns towards his alarm clock and squints his eyes to read the time. The red letters displaying 3:00. He has to get up in a few hours already. He continues tossing and turning for a while, his mind working overtime to figure out a reason for Graves’ disappearance.
He sighs and gets up and puts on his pink bunny slippers (that Ghost gifted him for Christmas) and makes his way towards the kitchen to grab a drink. He grabs a glass, fills it up with water and takes a sip from it.
He leans against the counter and thinks about Graves. Did he manage to escape before the tank exploded? Impossible, it immediately exploded when he went over it. He couldn’t have known. Maybe he got knocked unconscious and escaped after he woke up. Soap shakes his head, the thing went up like a fireball. It would’ve melted him on the spot. Perhaps a Shadow dragged him out to safety. Seems plausible, he didn’t kill every Shadow. He was busy dodging the shells thrown at him by Graves.
Apparently he was thinking so hard about it that he didn’t notice Ghost coming in. Well who blames him. Ghost never makes himself known, if you hear or see the Ghost then it’s already too late for you.
That seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.
“Simon? What are you doing here?”
“Could ask you the same thing. But to answer your question, couldn’t sleep.”
Soap nods. He knows Ghost doesn’t sleep often, if he did then it wasn’t for long.
“Have been thinking about Graves. Simon, I blew up that tank. How is he still alive? If he’s alive.”
He takes off his mask. Soap has seen it often, most of the time Ghost takes it off in private if it’s just the two of them.
“If he’s alive. Then a shadow must’ve dragged him away. There’s no way he made it out of that wreck by himself.”
This doesn’t please Soap and Ghost notices.
“You’re going to make yourself insane thinking about it too much. We need to have your head in the game on the field Johnny.”
He gives a retort in his Scottish slang. A thing he does often to annoy Ghost.
Ghost smirks, already knowing what it means but decides to indulge him. “English, MacTavish.”
“Sorry sir, let me translate. Go fuck yourself.”
Then Ghost says something that surprises him, “yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you. Like last time”
If he could slap that shit eating grin off of his face he would’ve. But it would end badly for him.
Soap’s steel blue eyes briefly dim over with the vague memory of his hands, calloused and hot and heavy, secured on the firm muscles of Simon’s shoulder blades, trimmed nails grazing every inch of his back he could possibly reach. The way Ghost stood, broad and tall between his quivering thighs, hands on his hips, so, so close to him that he could feel every strained exhale against his burning skin. The way he’d gripped onto him as though there was no tomorrow, as though this would be the last time they would be able to bask in the comfort of one another’s presence.
Never would he forget the way Ghost keened, low and guttural in his ear, bodies entangled with nothing but sheer desire. Rarely did they have time for such closeness, caught up in the tremors of battle as far as the eye could see. Soap’s thighs on the surface of the kitchen counter, head pressed sideways against the cabinet directly behind him. A one-time thing, was what they’d both concluded afterward. A moment of weakness, banter that went south quicker than they could comprehend- yet, Soap never made any effort to stop the hands that lifted him so fiercely off his feet. Too caught up in the moment to care. Too desperate for relief. Relief that Simon granted him so sweetly, his hands in his short blond locks as they both reached the end of what was an absolute clusterfuck of emotions. For days, Soap had been unable to so much as look at Ghost, constantly reminded of the way they had held each other.
He supposed tonight was no different, either.
Ghost emits a chuckle. “Whatever you say, MacTavish.” He checks his watch.
“Johnny, go to bed. We have to be up in two hours.”
“Only if you go to bed too, Simon.”
“Copy,” he says and leaves, presumably to his room. Soap finishes his water and does the same. He can already tell that he will hate himself in the morning for staying up this late.
He slips into bed and shuts his eyes. Willing himself to sleep. Eventually he drifts off and sleeps peacefully.
A blaring noise wakes him up. He groans and turns over to his alarm and shuts it off. He tries rubbing the sleep out of his to no avail. He sighs and mumbles to himself, “you’re the biggest idiot on this fucking planet,” and makes himself get up and wash up. He takes a cold shower to wake himself up a bit and heads to the commons rooms.
Once he gets there and sees that the whole team has been waiting on him. “Had fun in the shower, Soap?” Gaz teased. Obviously referring to something else. Ghost snickers and Soap sends a glare his way.
“Very funny Gaz. If you must know, I had a fantastic time.”
“Right, well if you kids have enough poking each other. I’d advise you to haul your asses to the truck. Before Alejandro is wondering where we are.” Price interrupts.
A mass of ‘yes sir’ was thrown his way before they all got in and left for the helo that will bring them to Las Almas.
The helo ride is a few hours long so Soap takes this opportunity to catch up on lost sleep from the night before. As he nods off to dreamland, Ghost watches him and his eyes soften.
For some reason he cannot explain. He has a gut wrenching feeling about their assignment that he can’t control.
And the Ghost doesn’t like it when things aren’t in his control.
As they’re nearing their destination Ghost softly nudges Soap’s shoulder. “Soap? Wake up. We’re almost at Las Almas.” His eyes flutter open and he swears that his heart almost leapt out at the sight of Soap’s cuteness.
He mumbles out an “okay” and gets rid of the sleepiness.
Shortly after, they arrive and the ramp opens and reveals Alejandro. He greets the pair first, “Soap, Ghost. Haven’t caused much trouble while I’ve been gone I hope.”
“A huevo!” Ghost yells out.
Soap shakes his head, he could picture him wearing a sombrero and he’d still look terrifying.
Alejandro smirks, “haven’t lost your touch yet.”
“You’ve taught us well hermano.” Soap adds on.
He chuckles and greets the rest of the team. After the hellos were said and hugs were given. They head to a briefing room to debrief what they know about Shepherd.
Rodolfo said that Valeria is back at the head of the cartel and is wreaking havoc across the city, again. He also mentioned a conversation that one of his men eavesdropped on. Something about smuggling the US General across countries. Soap questions about Graves. No one had a concrete answer whether he was still alive or not. But there’s been a man who’s fully covered from head to toe tailing Shepherd like a lost puppy.
This is when Soap realises that there is a greater chance of Graves being alive than he thought. He swears to make sure to finish the job this time.
But they did have a plan. They have realised that Shepherd has also been calling some shots within the cartel. No doubt to fuck with them, it’ll look like El Sin Nombre made those shots to anyone unfamiliar with Valeria.
They decide that infiltrating a sicario’s home like last time is a good idea. Soap prays to the lord that Valeria won’t be there and neither will Shepherd. Or he has a problem.
Since it went so well last time they did it with Soap. Price decides to send him out there again. In exchange for intel they’ll gain knowledge about the whereabouts of Shepherd.
Ghost’s gut wrenching feeling comes back.
They set up camp near the sicario’s home. Far away enough that they’ll be hidden from their sight. But nearby to keep an eye on them patrols. They wait for nightfall to start the operation.
Price gives him his Task Force 141 badge and pats him on the back before sending him off.
On his lonesome, with no gear and weapons to defend himself with, Soap 🧼 makes his way to the entrance where two guards stand.
Ghost keeps overwatch and scans the house with his sniper rifle. A few cartel members patrolled around the outskirts and a few on the roof. This time, Rodolfo will be tagging along instead of Alejandro.
He follows Soap with his optic and sees him putting his hands up while slowly making his way towards the two guards. They give him a warning shot before forcing him to get on his knees and drags him out of his view. “You better not do anything reckless, Johnny.” Ghost mutters to himself.
Soap has a bag over his head and can’t tell where he’s going. He has no choice but to follow along with the two cartel members. One of them starts talking in Spanish. Soap listens in and hears a few names that catches his interest. He definitely heard Shepherd’s name in their conversation and a Pedro, presumably the sicario. No mention of Graves whatsoever. At least they aren’t suspicious of him yet.
Eventually they stop and the bag gets taken off of his head. His eyes adjust to the harsh lighting. A tall man whose face is covered with a mask, is in front of him and towers over Soap. He’s a little shorter than Ghost, he observes. He has a wicked grin on his face. One that doesn’t settle right with him.
“What’s your name, gringo?”
The man nods and does a circle around him and scans him from head to toe.
“Soap huh. Tell me, what’s a SAS member doing here?”
“I have some intel, in exchange for a location.”
He orders the other two out and faces him, “if you think that we will give up a client’s location. For some worthless intel. Then you’re dead wrong, gringo.”
Soap raises a brow, a client? Could be Shepherd. They’re on the right track.
“But nevertheless, take a seat. We shall see if your intel holds up.”
Soap makes his way to the chair and sits. The man inches his way over and gets up in his face. “Tell me, what intel do you have?”
“I know the task force that took in Valeria, El Sin Nombre.”
“Oh yeah? Do tell. And you better not lie to me, or it will be this piece of lead inside your head.” He threatens, waving his gun around.
“Valeria was brought in by Task Force 141, the Mexican Special Forces and Shadow Company PMC.”
“Tsk, we already know that Gringo! Give me names of the leaders of those forces!” He shouts while pressing his gun to Soap’s forehead.
“Captain John Price, from the 141. Alejandro Vargas, from the Mexican Special Forces. And Philip Graves, from Shadow Company.” He gives him what he wants calmly. However, he’s starting to get nervous. Something is off and he doesn’t know what.
Suddenly gunshots ring throughout the whole compound. To make matters worse he hears Ghost scream, “Johnny! It’s an ambush! Get out of there ASAP!” Into his earpiece.
‘Pedro’ grins and takes off his mask. Only to reveal Graves’ messed up face. Soap’s eyes widen at the sight before him.
“I think I look pretty dashing for someone who survived a tank explosion. Wouldn’t you say so, Johnny?” Graves smirks at him. Soap glares at him, “I should’ve put a bullet through your head when I had the chance.”
“Ah well. That’s disappointing. I thought you would be happy to see me up and running about. But alas Soap, that doesn’t mean I forgive you just yet.” He frowns at him and gets closer to Soap. He pulls at his collar and sneers, “you’re the reason why I look like this. I’ll make sure you’ll suffer the same fate, if not worse.” He lets go of him and takes a step back.
“But if you must know where your darling Shepherd is. He’s on his way to Switzerland, going to a private safehouse of his.”
Soap’s gears start turning in his head. Shepherd is being smuggled to Switzerland to a safehouse. Graves interrupts his line of thinking.
“Unfortunately, you’ll be a dead man before you’ll make it back to your lovely team.” Graves chuckles before punching him on the head. Making his vision all fuzzy. “Remember this well Sergeant. I don’t make threats, I make guarantees.” He adds on darkly before calling his men in.
He meekly makes out Graves saying, “burn everything. Him included, I want him to know how it feels.”
He briefly thinks about accepting his fate, burning down with the compound. Until Ghost comes in again, “Johnny?! We can’t hold them back for long! Get out of there now!” He makes out the sound of continuous bullets flying through the air. He slowly starts getting his bearings back.
“Soap, go now!” Ghost desperately yells, trying to get through to Soap.
This seems to do the trick. Soap groans before weakly saying, “going now, L.T.. Out here.” He pushes himself off of the chair and looks around. The door that he came through is being consumed by flames. There’s no way he can get out through the door without burning himself. He looks around the room and spots a window.
He glances at the fast growing flames coming towards him. He reckons he barely has 30 seconds to get out before he as well gets consumed by the fire. He runs towards the window and grabs a crowbar on his way. He smashes the window in one go. The adrenaline gives him the strength at this point to keep moving. He quickly climbs out and takes a look at his surroundings.
He spots a tree line in the distance. He makes a run for it, dodging bullets left and right. One of them manages to get a lucky hit on him. He feels a searing white pain spreading throughout his left bicep. He continues running until the sound of gunfire eventually fades away. Until a little later he realises he’s safe for now. He takes a breather and pays attention to his wound. He sees no exit wound which sends relief throughout his whole body. Meaning he isn’t bleeding out too fast. He tears off a long strip of his shirt and finds a small sturdy twig. He wraps the twig up a bit before dressing his wound and twists the twig and ties it off. Making a makeshift tourniquet. He winces at the pressure the tourniquet is putting on his wound but at least he isn’t bleeding out on the spot. He spots high ground a little further and makes his way there, hoping to get a bearing of his surroundings.
He eventually makes it there and spots some lights in the distance, he’s not far from civilization. “What was that about threats, Graves?” Soap mocks him and slowly makes his way over to the lights. At this point his adrenaline is fading away and he’s finally feeling it all. All alone in the forest, with a gunshot wound and probably a mild concussion. All he has left is his comms. He hopes that Ghost and the others made it out safely. Judging by the silence on the comms and the heavy gunfire that happened. He supposed that they all are probably on the run.
Once he makes it to the city he leans on a wall on the nearest building he sees. He cycles through the channels hoping to receive an answer from anyone.
“This is Bravo 7-1, in the blind. How copy?” No answer.
“Price, how copy?” He says with more frustration.
“Ghost this is 7-1, do you copy?” Still no answer.
Soap groans at the radio silence. “Fuck. Where are you, Ghost?”
Meanwhile the flames have died down quickly and Graves and some cartel members are searching for bodies. He had received word that most if not all of 141 had escaped and are on the run, to his frustration. He checks his corners and makes his way towards the room they locked Soap in. The whole room is black from the soot but surprisingly there’s no body.
Graves orders the men from the cartel and punches the blackened wall in anger.
Fucking Soap. He’s a slippery fellow, no wonder his call sign is Soap.
He radios Shepherd, “sir, they’ve all escaped and are on the run. Soap has fled but is weak. I will find him myself personally.”
“Do what you have to do, Graves. You know I want those loose ends tied.” Shepherd’s voice crackles through the radio.
“I should’ve put two bullets in his legs so he couldn’t do anything but crawl.” He mutters angrily towards himself before setting out to find him himself.
“I will kill him if it’s the last thing I do.”
Soap peaks around the corner and spots some cartel members knocking on doors and sending the people out of their homes. If they didn’t comply then they would’ve been made an example of. Shot point blank. He cringes at the sound of shots and screams of the people. No doubt they were looking for him and the rest of the team.
He waits for them to clear before stepping out of the shadows. Completely weak from significant blood loss and exhaustion he trips over and falls face first on the ground. He groans at the new pain.
“Soap, this is Ghost. How copy?” The radio chatters. He looks at his wound and notices it has started bleeding through the makeshift tourniquet. It has probably loosened a bit while he was making his way towards the city.
Soap lifts himself up and presses on the button on his radio, “solid.” He swears he heard a sigh of relief on the other end.
“Thought we had lost you. Hop your way to channel 7. All of us are on that channel.”
Soap listens and changes the channel frequency. “I see you all made it out in one piece.” Soap lightly jokes, hoping to dull the pain of his arm for a moment. Multiple voices ring out through the radio. Happy to be hearing from Soap.
“You broken?” Price asks him. Soap sighs, “what’s the difference.”
“Life or death.” Gaz quips.
“Keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.” Ghost buts in. Soap chuckles, “thanks for the tip, Simon.”
There’s a few seconds of silence before Soap asks, “where are you?”
“Price and Gaz are at a church. I’m heading to it, let’s RV there. You’ll need to improvise to survive.”
“Well fuck me then, I’m leaking like no tomorrow. And the cartel is on a killing spree.”
“And for you guys.” Soap retorts.
“Yes well Johnny, you know the drill. You’ve done it before. Pick up whatever is salvageable and make your way to the church.”
Soap sneaks his way through town, killing a few cartel members on the way. He can feel himself losing it from blood loss which is worrisome. By now he’s halfway to the RV point.
“Hey Si?” Soap calls out for Ghost, just wanting to hear his voice.
“I have collected new intel.”
He can hear Ghost sigh on the other end. “Don’t worry about that now Johnny. The intel can wait. Let’s just focus on you getting here in one piece. Like last time.”
“No, I need you to know in case I don’t make it to the church in one piece. Alright listen up, all of you. The sicario that I’ve met is Graves. He’s still alive and is working for Valeria under Shepherd’s orders. He had revealed to me that they’re planning on smuggling Shepherd to a private safehouse of his in Switzerland.”
The silence on the other end was killing him. “Alright, copy MacTavish. Now you better haul your ass to the church.”
Soap chuckles, “yes sir.”
After a while Soap has made more progress on his journey to the church. But it started to rain, really fucking hard. Soap groans, “it’s pishin’ it doon out here.”
“Speak English.” Ghost deadpans.
“It’s rainin’ fuckin’ hard!”
“I did.” Soap exasperated.
He could hear snickers from the rest of the team at their banter.
Soap finds a café and heads inside. “I’m in the coffee shop.”
“Get us a tea.” Ghost replied.
“Fuckin’ Brits.” He swears he heard Price snort.
“You heard that Captain? He just insulted our lineage.” Ghost asks Price.
“I heard that loud and clear. John be a good husband and get Simon a tea.”
Soap had to stop midway prying a door open to comprehend what Price just said. As if he could read their minds he adds on, “oh come on. You guys are blatantly obvious. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work, then I don’t give a damn about what you guys are up to. But please, next time, dont fuck in the kitchen. It’s obnoxious late at night.”
Soap chokes on air while Ghost is laughing his ass off. “Thanks for the support Si.”
Soap now has the church in view. He only has to go through one building or go around and meet them at the back. Soap, ever impatient, decides to go through the building. He sticks close to the walls and alleys seeing that in this area there are a lot more cartel members than previous areas. He takes out a few more and hides the bodies. So that the other members will not be alerted to him sneaking around them. He goes inside of the building and loots what he can.
“Yes Simon?” A moment of silence ensues before Ghost continues.
“I have a bad feeling here Johnny. Be careful and stay on alert. You may be close but don’t let it blind you. I would hate to lose you here”
Soap stops for a second and takes in Ghost’s words. “I’m always careful Si, you know that.”
“I know you are. But I can’t shake this feeling off. It’s been lingering around the whole day.” Ghost softly says.
“I know what you mean. I have the feeling too. But it’ll all be over soon the next morning. I love you, you’ll have me in your arms soon Si.”
“I love you too. Stay safe Johnny.”
Soap continues looting and makes his way back down. He spots the back door of the house. Behind the door is the church. Meaning he’ll see Simon soon. He quietly but eagerly opens the door. Not expecting a cartel member on the other side also trying to open the door. As Soap twists the doorknob the door suddenly slams open on him. He grunts and falls to the floor due to the sheer force. He hears shouting in his comms from his team but he zones it out. All he sees is a fully loaded gun pointed straight at his head.
He closes his eyes, expecting for him to shoot any second. When a gunshot rings through the air he notices he didn’t feel it. He opens his eyes and sees the man slumped back on the floor.
“Johnny move! You have more coming your way.”
Soap quickly gets up and makes a run towards the church. Bullets flying past him, he realises that there’s no way of the possibility of him getting to the church unscathed. So he makes use of the buildings and alleyways. Hoping to confuse the cartel members.
“Shit Soap! We’re compromised! We’re heading your way!” Price yells through the earpiece. Soap says nothing, not wanting to draw more attention to himself. He lurks in the shadows and peaks around the corner. Spotting Price running through the church door being followed by Ghost and Gaz covering him.
Soap smiles, happy to see his team in one piece. Seeing that the coast is clear he makes a run for it. Unfortunately for him, there’s a lurking Graves in the shadows. Happy to pull the trigger to end the stupid Scot for once and for all.
It’s as if Soap runs in slow motion by him. He sucks a breath in, lines his optic up with Soap’s chest, rests his finger on the trigger and pulls back on the trigger.
Soap crumbles to the floor and groans in pain. He didn’t even have to look, there’s definitely an exit wound. He felt the searing hot bullet penetrate his chest and fly straight out, tearing through the flesh in one smooth shot.
Ghost could only helplessly watch on as Soap is groaning on the cold floor . He spots Graves making a run for it. At this point he could only see red. He would’ve chased after him if it wasn’t for Soap weakly calling for him.
He rushes over to Soap and kneels by him. He gently lifts his head up to rest on lap. He looks around frantically, hoping for help to arrive. But with no medic and no solid evac. Soap was at the mercy of death. He already lost so much blood that he cannot afford to lose another pint. Simon and John both know this. That this is the end for John.
“Johnny?! Speak to me! What do you need?!” Simon spits out while trying to put pressure on his wound. His eyes well up with tears. Why can he never have a happy ending? His whole family died because of him and faked his own death. Wasn’t that enough already? Does he still have to suffer more for the lords above to be satisfied
He blinks away his tears because he has to be strong. For Johnny.
“I just need you here with me, Simon. That’s all I need.” John rasps out. Clearly in too much pain to talk. As they bask in each other’s comfort one last time. John can feel that he’s losing himself. Simon can see it too.
As a last attempt to console Simon, John sits up with the help of Simon. He looks up at him, “can you take the mask off? One last time.” John asks him almost hesitantly, not knowing if Simon would do that.
Simon rips his mask and balaclava off and reveals his face to John. He weakly smiles at him and wipes away his tears. John reaches a hand up to rest on Simon’s cheek, “Let’s face it. I won’t make it out of here alive. I want you to live on and to not mourn me for too long. Find someone else to love, start a family. I don’t care as long as you stay happy. If not for yourself, then do it for me Si. I love you, I always will. Remember that.”
As he mutters out the last sentence his body relaxes and eventually his hand falls back to his side. Simon shakily lets John lie back on the floor and looks at him. Not believing he’s dead yet, he tries to wake him by shaking him.
“Johnny? Please, wake up! I need you here with me! Get the fuck up Sergeant! That’s an order! Please, I need you!” He frantically yells, hoping for a miracle that John is still alive. But the miracle never came. He’s still lying there, on the floor. As if he’s fallen asleep.
Simon rests his forehead on John’s, “I love you too John. So fucking much.” His voice cracked.
After a few minutes of silence he stands up. As if nothing happened. When Johnny died, a part of him died alongside him. The Ghost was already intimidating, but this? This Ghost will be your worst nightmare if he’s hunting you.
From there on out Ghost vowed to find and kill Graves, as he had killed Johnny. His little Sergeant.
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