psyche

gaz: have you heard the joke about the gaslighter? soap: no... gaz: no, you definitely have. soap: no I haven't. gaz: you've literally heard it before. soap: no i haVEN'T gaz: yes you have soap: I DON'T KNOW IT?!? gaz: you're crazy, man. ghost: *hiding his smirk* you: *giggling beside ghost*

soap: I just fell– you: from heaven? soap: no, like I literally just fell– you: in love with me? soap: my fucKING ARM IS BROKEN you: okay, but do you think i'm pretty? be honest.

you: i sleep with a dagger under my pillow. gaz: weak. I sleep with a gun. ghost: you're both pathetic. you: oh?? and what do you sleep with? ghost: soap. you: *spits out drink*

you: what are you, 5? konig [snorts]: yeah, 5 heads taller than you. you: konig: konig: I'm sorry, please don't kill me.

you [on the phone]: uh... price? price [tired]: is the base on fire? you: well...no? price: then it's not an emergency price: *hangs up* gaz: WHAT DID HE SAY? you: he said it's not an emergency. soap [pinned under a cabinet that ghost and alejandro are trying to get off him]: HOW IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY

ghost: i invited you into the woods because I crave the most dangerous game. you and soap [both nodding]: knife monopoly. ghost: i was actually going to hunt you for sport but now i'm interested in whatever the fuck knife monopoly is.

ghost: *is carrying all the groceries* you: *holds out a hand to help* ghost: *aggressively moves all the groceries to one hand to hold your hand*

you: can you keep a secret? ghost: do you know anything about my life? you: no, i do not. good point.

[you and ghost texting] you: where are you? ghost: turn around ghost: no the other way ghost: wrong way again you: ghost, where exactly are you?? ghost: at base, but the thought of you turning aimlessly in circles amuses me.

soap: go big or go home! you [tears in your eyes]: i am begging you, soap. for once in your life, go home. please. just this once. go home. ghost: *nods in agreement* soap: i'm going big!

soap: hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? you: peonies, why? soap: you: were you going to get me flowers? soap: you: soap: it's a possibility...

you: why are you smiling? price: what? can't I just be happy? soap: gaz tripped and fell in the parking lot.

ghost: i wish i could block people in real life. you: restraining order. soap: murder. gaz: jesus fucking chr–

you: so you don't have a thing for anyone at the moment? soap: well... i didn't say that. you: oh. what's she like then? soap: you're just gonna assume they're a 'she'? you: are they– you: are they not a girl? soap: *gay panic*

ghost: i made tea. you: i don't want tea. ghost: i didn't make tea for you. this is my tea. you: then why are you telling me? ghost: it's a conversation starter. soap [looking between you two, confused] you: that's not really a conversation starter. ghost: oh, it isn't? we're conversing, aren't we? checkmate. you [scoffing]: well it's a lousy one then. ghost: never said it wasn't. you: *looking at soap* soap: *looking at you*

price: what does 'take out' mean? alejandro: food. gaz: dating. soap: murder. you: it can mean all three if you're not a coward. ghost: soap: gaz: price: you: what?

ghost: look, i know you think my judgment is clouded because i like soap a little bit. you [holding ghost's notepad]: you doodled your wedding invitations. ghost: no, that's our joint tombstone. you: oh, right, my mistake.

konig: hello, welcome to our first debrief. konig: today we're talking about... you [whispering]: building loyalty. konig: killing royalty. you [under your breath]: oh my god.

2 weeks.

It’s been two weeks since you left the team behind, riding in that helicopter. Two weeks since Simon and Johnny saw you, heard your voice, your laugh. The two men were practically crawling out of their skin, itching to see you again.

Not only that, but they were planning on telling you how they felt about you. They would finally confess that they loved you, that they were in love with you.

Today, the 141 were finally finished with their mission in Russia and the weather had improved just enough so it was safe to fly. Currently, the team was preparing to return to their home base in the United Kingdom.

Warmth filled Ghost’s chest as he remembers the last time you were waiting for them to return from a mission.

It was a few months prior to the Russian mission, and they were returning after a 3 week long mission in Germany. They couldn’t wait to wrap you up in their strong arms and feel your warmth against them after being stuck in rain for weeks. They always made a point to do that when they returned from missions without them with you. It was their little tradition.

The two men would immediately sprint to your quarters, day or night, and they would wrap you up in bear hugs, lifting you up off the ground.

Soap would always squeeze your waist just before setting you down, sneakily rubbing circles on your hips at the same time. “Gotta make sure I don’t drop you. Precious cargo and all that.” He’d use something like that as an excuse for his handsy behavior, though judging by you biting back a grin, he was pretty sure you weren’t bothered by it.

Ghost would always be leaning against the doorway of your quarters, watching the whole scene unravel with a grin under his mask. Seeing his two favorite people in the world in an embrace made warmth bloom in his chest.

Ghost’s icy eyes would always be burning into you as Soap let you down, noting how you laughed nervously and your eyes crinkled at Soap’s comment. Ghost cleared his throat to get your attention, making Soap’s eyes dart to his. You followed his gaze to meet Ghost’s eyes and if it were even possible, your eyes brightened even more when they landed on the Brit.

When you broke from Soap’s tan arms and ran into Ghost’s, he caught you without missing a beat. His tattooed arms would always wrap around your midsection and lift you a foot off of the ground, holding you close to him. Your arms would wrap around his neck and you would breathe him in, all leather and smoke. All Simon. You would let out a pleased noise as you snuggled into the crook of his neck.

“Little clingy today, are we?” Ghost murmured against the crown of your head, his smile apparent in his voice, even if he tried to seem annoyed.

“Not that we mind.” Soap’s voice crooned from behind you, a lot closer than where you left him. While you were hugging Ghost, Soap had snuck up behind you to almost sandwich you between their hulking bodies.

Ghost couldn’t think of a better position, in every sense of the word.

“I’m glad you guys are back. Safe.” You mumbled against Ghost’s vest, voice slightly muffled. You were still hugging the masked man, arms wrapped around his midsection now.

“Couldn’t keep us away even if you tried.”

Ghost was pulled from his reminiscing thoughts by the loud noise of the plane landing at the hangar. Along with the rest of 141, Ghost and Soap were waiting at the hangar for the plane, luggage in hand. When it finally touched down, Soap nudged Ghosts’ side and threw him a cheeky grin that radiated his excitement.

“What’s on your mind, LT?” He asked as they all start heading to the chopper.

“Take a guess.”

“Thinkin’ about (Y/N) waiting for us back home?” Soap guesses as the two of them walk up the plane’s ramp, duffel bags slung over their shoulders.

“Smart man, Johnny. Smart man.” Ghost praises him as they both sink down into their seats on the plane.

Once the team straps in, the overhead comms crackle to life for the pilot to announce wheels up. As the turbulence began shaking the aircraft, Johnny noticed how Ghosts’ knee bounced and how he began fiddling with his hands. A nervous tic.

To calm his boyfriends’ nerves, Johnny entwined his fingers with Ghost’s gloved ones. Then he rested his head on Ghost’s shoulder to ground him with his weight, something akin to a weighted blanket.

“How’s that?” Johnny asked, eyelids feeling heavy as he glanced up at Ghost. He noticed that Ghost stopped fiddling with his hands when Johnny squeezed his hand, and his knee stopped bouncing when Johnny rested against him.

“You always know what to do, Johnny.” Ghost hummed.

Johnny’s eyes fluttered shut and fell asleep against Ghost’s shoulder with a grin on his lips. Ghost glanced down at Johnny when we heard his deep, even breaths.

A smile pulled at the Lieutenant’s lips as he admired his boyfriend’s relaxed face. Small breaths coming from his parted lips, all pink and plump. His full brows that were relaxed and unfurrowed. His tan skin was flushed pink from the cold weather and some snow flakes were still stuck to his mohawk. Carefully, Ghost reached his free hand over to ruffle the snow out of Johnny’s hair.

Johnny’s eyebrows scrunched in his sleep, almost waking up because of Ghosts’ touch.

“Easy.” Ghost said lowly, trying to coax the Scot back to sleep.

The Sergeant hummed as he nuzzled further into the Lieutenant’s shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent of leather and musk.

While Johnny was asleep, Ghost’s mind ran wild with possibilities about you. He thought about how him and Johnny could confess to you and how you would react.

Would it be better to just come out and say it? Or ease you into it? Ghost didn’t want to overwhelm you or scare you away. He wanted to do this right.

He bounced ideas around in his head while the time passed. He could pull you aside with Johnny and tell it to you straight, tell you that they both loved you with every fiber of their being.

If they were feeling especially bold, Ghost or Johnny could just kiss you.

Sure, to you it might be out of the blue but Ghost couldn’t help but ponder the idea. He couldn’t help but fantasize about your soft, plump lips against his scarred ones. Would your lips taste like the mint chapstick you applied religiously? What kind of kisser were you? Were you shy and timid, kissing him back with a gasp and glazed over doe eyes? Or were you confident and passionate, arms wrapping around his neck and teasingly bite at his lip? His heart pounded at the thought.

Ultimately, he decided against it, no matter how much he wanted to just pull you into his arms and smash his lips against yours without abandon. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from them, especially after making so much progress in your friendship.

So with that, he started thinking about other options, safer options.

He thought about writing a letter professing his love for you and leaving it at your quarters along with a vase of your favorite flowers. Then he considered axing the flowers and giving you a new set of sparring gloves with the letter just in case you weren’t the flower type.

So many variables ran through his mind. After a few minutes of racking his brain for ideas, he gave up. He knew that once Johnny woke up, they would be able to create a plan together. Johnny was always the voice of reason.

Heaving a sigh, Ghost glanced at his watch and noted that they were nearly an hour into the flight home. He resigned to closing his eyes and letting sleep take him for the rest of the flight.

In the short three hours that he slept, he dreamt of his two favorite people — Johnny Mactavish and you. His Sergeant and his surgeon. He dreamt of cerulean eyes and wolfish smile, and your sparkling gaze and shy grin. He dreamt of Soap’s booming laughter and muscular arms. He dreamt of your excited rambling about medical procedures and the scent of your (perfume/cologne).

He was woken a few hours later by Captain Price’s booming voice echoing through the plane, “Touch down in 2!”

Ghost reached down to gently shake Soap’s shoulder, rousing him from his slumber. The Sergeant rubbed the sleep from his eyes before standing with Ghost. Soap stretched his muscles and cracked his neck before slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder.

The 141 jogged off of the plane and onto the solid concrete of the hangar.

The team stood at attention, lined up in a row while Price and Laswell stood off to the side.

“At ease. I know you’re all itching to wash up and rest but I expect you in the conference room in 15 for the mission debriefing. After that, you’re free to go.” Price informed, as it was custom to give mission reports to Laswell and Shepherd after a mission was completed.

“Yes, sir,” was echoed by all of 141 before they all started walking to the base entrance. Soap gravitated back towards his Lieutenant and once they were inside the base, they both began the trek to your quarters. It only took about five minutes to get to your quarters so it would give them plenty of time to say hello to you before going to the briefing.

As he walked, Soap fished his personal phone out of his cargo pants pocket before finding your contact. It was one of the first ones, as he texted you and Ghost the most. He clicked on your picture, a candid of you smiling up at Ghost, and began typing up a text to you.

He smiled to himself as he pressed send before pocketing his phone again.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s cool, calculating eyes were trained on Laswell, who he could still see walking with Price. The second he got off the plane, Ghost immediately noticed her nervous demeanor. She was picking at the skin by her nails as she walked. She avoided eye contact with everyone except for Price, and even that seemed forced.

Alarms sounded in the Lieutenants’ head and Ghost’s eyes narrowed under his mask. This was more than just a personality quirk of hers, he thought.

After a few hallways, Soap and Ghost arrived at your quarters. Ghost raised his gloved hand and knocked on your door. The two men waited for a response for a minute before Ghost knocked again, louder this time. Soap was behind him, glancing down at his phone to see if you had responded. Only to see that his text bubble had turned green.

His grin dropped into a frown and his brows furrowed in confusion and concern. Had he done something wrong that made you block his contact? Or did you lose your phone in the last two weeks? Either possibility made his heart race with anxiety.

Minutes passed and Ghost was still pounding on your door, raising the attention of a few privates walking the halls. Soap stopped him.

“They haven’t texted back. Something’s not right, Simon.” Soap muttered, making the Lieutenants’ heart drop - both at the use of his real name and the fact that you had gone radio silent.

The combination of Laswell behaving out of character and you being nowhere to be found, he knew there was something going on.

The two soldiers jogged to the elevator where they saw Price standing with Laswell. Price glanced away from Laswell to look at the men with a relaxed smile.

“You went to go see Y/N? How’s our medic?” Price asked them, knowing you were their closest friend and who they spent most of their time with. At the mention of your name, Laswell’s eyes widened just a fraction, but just enough for Ghost to notice.

“Funny you mention that. We were just at their room and no one answered. Matter of fact, they haven’t answered their phone at all. We were coming to ask you if you’ve seen them.” Soap explained, hopeful that maybe his Captain had information on your whereabouts. Those hopes were quickly dashed when Price’s eyebrows furrowed and his relaxed smile fell into a confused frown.

“Haven’t heard a word from them since they left on that med-evac, I’m afraid. I’ll be sure to ask Shepherd in the briefing. If there’s anything going on, he should have an idea.”

With that, Price, Laswell and the two soldiers continued to the conference room.

After a few hallways and elevators, Laswell and 141 all arrived to the conference room where Shepherd was waiting. One by one, the soldiers plopped into different chairs, fatigue from the long mission catching up to them. Price had taken to leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Laswell turned the projector on and connected her laptop before pulling up mission notes. She began the mission report by listing all intel that 141 collected as well as any supplies along the way. She listed all targets that were eliminated, whether they were arms dealers, cartel members or just Russian soldiers.

Once she was done using the projector, she turned on the lights.

Lastly, Laswell began rifling through different files to find more information, and Ghost noticed how her fingers shook while she was skimming the documents. She found the manila folder for the next mission and haphazardly pulled it out of the stack and set it onto the table. So haphazardly, in fact, that another folder came out with it. A particularly thick folder that had a big, red stamp on it, reading “classified”. Your full name was written on the tab of that very folder.

Immediately the air in the room shifted. Price kicked off his spot at the wall and stomped to the table. His intense blue eyes were staring daggers as he glared at Kate and Shepherd. Gaz’s usual grin was replaced by a frown.

Beside Ghost sat Soap, who’s usually bright eyes had darkened to a considerable degree. His jaw tensed at the mention of your name being in a classified file.

Ghost’s gloved hands were clenched into fists under the table, white knuckling with how tight they were. His nostrils flared under his mask.

Laswell cursed under her breath and scrambled to retrieve that folder but Price beat her to it, snatching the folder up with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw.

“Since when does my medic have a fuckin’ classified file? Hmm?” Price waves the file in front of Laswell and Shepherd. Laswell crossed her arms and shot a conflicted look at Shepherd who gave her nothing back in return, effectively throwing her to the wolves.

“So let me get this straight. Not only is the medic of my fucking task force nowhere to be found but their name is plastered on a damn classified file.” He continued, all but roaring at Shepherd.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t concern you, John. It doesn’t concern any of you, actually.” Laswell forced out with a mask of faux professionalism. Ghost could tell that she didn’t even believe what she was selling, not for one second.

“Don’t give me that, ‘doesn’t concern you’, bullshit!” Price shouted, face burning red with unbridled rage, his index finger pointed in her direction.

She flinched at his finger in her face and his voice dripping with malice.

“Laswell’s right, Captain. This is purely need to know. And you all, don’t need to know. End of discussion.” General Shepherd interjected with a cold, detached tone.

“That’s the medic of the bloody task force! My task force! If anyone needed to know, it would be me!” Price fired back, nostrils flared and lips pursed.

Throughout their Captain’s shouting, the rest of 141 had their hackles raised as they assessed the situation with clenched jaws and narrowed eyes.

“Negative, John. If they were still your medic, then you would need to know. But they’re not.” The room had fallen silent the second that the words passed General Shepherd’s lips. You could hear a pin drop.

In the blink of an eye, the room unraveled.

Price’s eyes darkened as he turned his wrath completely towards Shepherd instead of Laswell. Curses went flying as he spat insults at the General, giving absolute fuck all about ranking at this point.

Gaz immediately followed suit, pointing accusatory fingers at the General and shouting across the room.

“What the fuck!” Soap growled, his husky Scottish accent echoing across the room. He hits his fists against the table before jumping out of his seat.

Ghost launched out of his chair and crossed the room in two seconds flat. He charged at Shepherd, gripping him by the collar of his uniform and dragging him out of his seat. No one made any move to stop Ghost as he yanked the General to his feet. No one made any move to stop him as he spat in his flinching face.

“Give us answers now,” Ghost spoke in his ear, dangerously calm, “or you’ll wish we still had a medic.”

Shepherd didn’t have a chance to open his mouth before Laswell finally spoke up, interrupting the chaos.

“They’re missing! They’ve been missing ever since the helicopter left that day.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I couldn’t say anything until the mission was finished successfully. He thought it would be a distraction. I wanted to. I really wanted to, Price.” She directed the last sentence to her friend, her voice breaking.

“Prove it, Kate. Prove it and tell me, us everything.” He pleaded. He knew deep down that she was just following orders from the bloody General.

“Laswell, don’t you d-,” Shepherd was cut off not only by Ghost tightening his grip around his neck but by Laswell shouting at him.

“I am telling them everything, orders be damned. I have had this stuck in my head for two weeks and I couldn’t say a fucking thing because of you. None of them trust me anymore because of you.” She seethed from across the room. Somehow, even if she wasn’t screaming like the soldiers, her anger was vengeful and scorned. It was burning and searing, like fire and brimstone.

“I’m showing them everything.” Kate spat at Shepherd while she keyed a code into her laptop. She searched her computer to find the task force’s security page, which was filled with different cameras and protocols.

One camera she was searching for in particular, the recovered camera footage from the crashed helicopter two weeks ago.

Once she found it, she reached to turn off the lights for the projector, and pressed play on the footage.

The boys looked at the projector screen and were taken aback at the footage. For the first time in two weeks, the 141 team saw you.

Ghost and Soap saw you.

You had wheeled the female patient’s gurney into the helicopter before climbing in yourself. You said goodbye to your assistant before closing the door.

“You’re the 141’s surgeon, I presume? Nikolai at your service.” They could hear Nikolai say, a bit muffled but still audible.

“Yeah, Price talks about you a lot! It’s nice to have a friend in high places.” They heard you respond with a grin, which made the Lieutenant and Sergeant’s chest tingle.

You were soon strapped in and lifting off, making the camera shake a bit from the turbulence.

The team watched with bated breath as you looked down at your patient who was wincing in pain.

Ghost felt his lips quirk into a grin under his mask as he watched you take the injured woman’s hand in your own. He admired how you were able to keep your warm and sympathetic nature after seeing so much bloodshed in your line of work. He loved how you never failed to comfort your patients while you treated them.

Soap watched as you looked down at the injured woman with sympathy in your eyes and squeezed her hand in yours. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, chest warm at the pure sight of you.

The woman pulled you close in some newfound strength and whispered something in your ear, making your eyebrows furrow in shock and confusion.

The team saw Laswell take a breath and look away from the camera. They were confused but only for a second.

A metallic glint right next to you made Ghost and Soap’s heart drop to their feet. You didn’t notice it, at least not quickly enough, because your patient was soon jumping out of her gurney and twisting your left arm into an impossible angle. The crack that echoed from your broken bones and your cry of pain made everyone in the room wince.

“No, no, no..” Soap pleaded under his breath, voice cracking at just the sight of you injured. He felt his throat tighten when he saw your eyes scrunched shut in pain.

Ghost was frozen. He couldn’t blink, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move. All he could do was watch as another person he loved was hurt in front of him.

You had no reprieve when, to the teams horror, the woman shoved a knife right into your stomach. They saw how your eyes widened in horror and shock, much like Ghost and Soap’s. They heard your initial noise of pain that quickly turned into a guttural scream when the woman yanked the knife out of you with a brutal twist.

Ghost couldn’t fucking breathe. All he saw on your uniform was red. Blood fucking red. It soaked your tactical jacket and quickly trickled down your pants and onto your seat. You were going to die. He just knew it. Just like his mother. Just like Tommy. Just like Beth. And just like little Joseph.

Soap’s eyes were so blurry with unshed tears that he couldn’t see the footage anymore. He almost didn’t want to wipe his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see your bloody figure again, or see how your crying face mirrored his.

They both wished they could just yank you through the camera and take you in their arms. They wish they could shield you from any knife or any broken bones. They would cup the crown of your head and shush your sobs the same way you comforted them so many times.

They needed you in their arms.

Price watched in horror as the scene continued. He watched as the woman used the same knife that she stabbed you with to throw at his friend, Nikolai. He heard Nikolai’s quiet gurgle as the knife met his chest.

It was only a matter of moments until the aircraft started swaying from Nikolai being down. In those moments, the woman had leaped from the gurney altogether and grabbed a parachute and a tactical rope. She pulled your sluggish figure against her and tied you to her, your back pressed against her chest. Once she ensured that the rope was tight and secure, she pulled the parachute on and jumped out of the quickly falling helicopter.

That was the last footage the camera caught before being submerged under the dark ocean water below.