Cursed to be Alone

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Price grinned as he saw Soap feed the birds like he showed him. Even with the mind of a child, he still learned fast. As they watched the bird gather and feed on the scattered seeds, the old man couldn’t help but feel at peace. It was a strange, yet wonderful feeling. He took another handful of birdseed and scattered it on the yard, attracting even more birds.

It was certainly a beautiful sight. No enemies shooting at them, no grenades thrown, and certainly no threat of death lingering in the air. Just the birds, who were more concerned about food, and the two of them.

“I’m sorry, Price.” he trembled, slipping out of the room. 

The faux child found himself confined behind thick walls– once more. Knees huddled close, sinking against the door. The images never ceased, always finding another way to seep through like rat poison strangling its victim. 

…It didn’t make any sense.

Price was confused by the boy’s actions. One minute, they were sitting together and the next, Soap suddenly fled out of the room. The old man didn’t know what to think.

Was it something I did? Price thought as he stared at the closed door, Or was it something I didn’t do? Troubled, he stood up and walked over to the door.

“I don’t see why not,” Price replied as he gave Soap a handful of seeds, “Just scatter them like so.” He demonstrated with a handful of his own, carefully scattering into the yard which attracted even more birds.

It was moments like this that Price was happy that the two of them were given a second chance.

A smile plastered his features and cradled the seeds before showering them near the flock. His heart almost leapt once the feathery brethren stormed in a circle. They plucked and tugged among themselves, devouring their meal in a matter of minutes. 

If only Gaz were here to behold such rare occurrences. 

“Alright, son,” Price chuckled as he accepted the pouch. He walked over to the window and scattered a handful into the yard. Moments later, some birds flew in and pecked at the ground as they consumed the seeds. All and all, it was a cheerful sight.

The old man loved the sight of the robin, whose face and chest were colored a rusty red-orange. Those little birds fluttered about among the others as they plucked the seeds off the ground. He waited for a few minutes before he scattered the next handful into the yard.

“…Can I try?” he couldn’t resist in joining the fun. 

One of the birds resembled the pudgy looking fellow from the other day. Gaz informed him it was a robin. It was a fairly common species around these parts, especially around this season. He sat himself on the ledge of the window, smiling at the cluster of avians gathering about. 

Price walked over to the window and jiggled the lock.

“Hmmm…” he murmured, frowning, “The lock’s stuck again. I’ll be back in a sec.” He quickly left the room and came back after a few minutes with a can of WD-40. The old man immediately applied it on the lock before he made another attempt. This time, the lock yielded under his touch.

“There we go,” Price said, satisfied, “You can open the window how, Soap.”

He observed as the man applied the spray to the lock, prompting a single brow raise from place. Soap strode toward the point of interest and tinkered with it before propping it open. Pausing for a moment, the boy glanced back at Price– suppressing a gulp. 

It was then another idea struck him. Soap scampered out of the room and returned in a flash.  But this time with a small bag of seeds in hand. 

Price smiled as he let himself be pulled up. The lad loved to watch the birds as they flutter about in the yard and fed from the feeders the former captain and Gaz had put up. It was one of those leisure activities that he and Soap had shared. He even taught the boy how to identify some of the birds that gathered around the feeders.

Soon enough, they arrived at their bedroom. He scrambled to the window and picked at the lock– but to no avail. Soap puffed his cheeks, retreating to Price’s side. 

“Won’t open…” he mumbled, kicking at the carpet floor. 

His only wish for today was for the eldest to watch the birds up close. It appeared the dumb window didn’t want to cooperate for some reason. He even woke up early just to get a glimpse at them. Even so, they would soon hustle off into the wilderness, not likely embarking a return. 

“Hmmm…” he murmured, frowning, “The lock’s stuck again. I’ll be back in a sec.” He quickly left the room and came back after a few minutes with a can of WD-40. The old man immediately applied it on the lock before he made another attempt. This time, the lock yielded under his touch.

That did the trick for Price immediately woke up with a gasp. He blinked for a moment before settling his gaze on Soap.

“Soap,” he murmured as he shook off the effects of his rude awakening, “You alright? You need something?” He still felt a little sleepy, but he was more concerned about the lad’s well-being.

“Watch birdies outside!” he enthused, grabbing ahold of his hand before hoisting him up. It wouldn’t take much effort, despite losing some muscle mass over the span of years. 

Soap was oblivious to the fact, of course. Most recently, they rented a little cottage not far from Price’s hometown to escape the befuddled urban areas. Not only had he managed to ease himself from the city’s prying eyes, but along with actually getting to see nature firsthand. 

Sunlight filtered through the window as Price wiped his brow. The nursery was almost done and all he needed was to put on a few finishing touches. He walked out of the room and sealed the entrance to prevent a certain nosy childish Scotsman from finding it. But the old man wouldn’t have to hide it for much longer.

Yawning, Price walked over to the couch and flopped on it. He felt his tired body relax against the soft cushion as he sighed in relief. His eyelids were heavy and he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The dawn of daylight embarked its inevitable return. In which prompted the boy to stir from his slumber, a smirk creasing his features. Pushing the blue comforter aside, he scurried down the hall. At last, he stumbled upon the limp form of his caretaker snoozing the century away. 

Price was enjoying his morning tea when he felt a breeze waft past him. He looked up and saw Soap as he was getting the coffee machine to work. Normally the old captain would go back to his tea, but there was something about the Scot that seemed off. His motions seemed more agitated than the usual pre-mission jitters. Not to mention the fact that Soap had yet to greet him that day.

“Soap?” Price asked as he walked over, “Is everything alright? You look upset.” He hoped it was just the fact that they would embark on a dangerous mission soon. God knows he felt the same nervous tension as everyone else in his regimen.

No response…Mactavish continued with the procedure and pulled the steaming tank of brewed liquid into the basin of the cup. Disregarding his CO’s presence likely wasn’t the wisest path to follow. He’d rather skip on the RTU route, especially knowing the older’s temperament. 

“Jus’ peachy, sir.” 

Was it a sufficient response? Probably not but it’d have to satiate Price’s concern for now. He situated himself at the corner of the wooden table. In a flash, he downed his drink and wiped the droplets dangling off his chin. The Scot was hunched over in the position, staring below.

Coldness…was all he felt.  He shuddered at the mere thought– the simplicity of something so insignificant yet unfolding into reality. Biting down his lip, he arose from the bed and gathered his belongings. Before long, Mactavish ventured out, heaving a breath as the images never ceased to exist. 

“Goddamn it…”  Striding into the kitchen, he noted there wasn’t a soul present. Yet another reason to alleviate personal concerns. His heart nearly flopped upon the outline of a familiar hat. He flinched but recovered within seconds. Gritting his teeth, he released a low growl and brushed past the man. He knew the older would likely make his next move sooner or later– it didn’t matter.

“Listen ‘ere, ya dainty footed gavoon. I’ll scramble your brains like an omelette for lunch, capisce?” 

Pulling up his sidearm, the stout figure furrowed his brows and shot a glare at the former veteran. He’d just gotten another accursed parking ticket– there would be no shortage of bloodlust today. 

Price couldn’t believe his eyes. There, before him, was the demonic being he had intended to summon! It looked like a horrific offspring of a dragon and a demon with an overwhelming aura of malice and hatred. The old soldier felt like a puny insect in comparison. A part of him started to regret summoning that thing…

But he had gone too far to turn back. There was no way he would throw it all away just because he was afraid. Especially when the demon had offered something he couldn’t possibly refuse. “You can do this?” Price asked, “Bring him back, I mean.” It seemed too good to be true.

“Of course…after all you offered your soul to me.”

And what better why than to repay his generosity with a bestowed gift? A measly human such as himself would have his wish granted– under his terms. The foolish old man would never realize he was the sole catalyst for Makarov’s ‘deeds.’ Along with immersing the world in another world war. Ha! How blind yet deceptive he was in maneuvering his brittle heart.