#insecure soap

The plane had put them all to sleep within minutes of takeoff. Price was leaning his head back against the wide straps behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he was merely blinking and had frozen that way rather than sleeping. Gaz was slumped over, he would definitely be complaining about his neck when they woke up. Soap had stretched out across the bench seat, facing the wide straps that lined the inside of the cargo hold. His arms had slipped through, holding him in place so he didn’t go flying off the bench at the rough patches. Ghost had only slept for an hour before he was awake again staring boredly around at everyone, particularly eyeing the four other men that had come with them.

Their flight was directly to the LZ during the night. They had to infill in the dead of night, this was restricted air space and the cover of night and darkness was their best tactical advantage. They were thirty minutes out from their jump zone when a hand shook him awake. Blue eyes opened easily as he glanced over his shoulder to see Gaz and Price already up and moving, the former rubbing his neck every couple seconds, and Ghost standing in front of him. "Get up Sergeant, we're dropping in thirty."

"Rog," was all Soap said, voice raspy from sleep as he turned to his back for a few seconds to let his spine adjust and then he was up and moving. They all grabbed their packs and their weapons, Ghost and Soap each had a long range sniper secured to their packs and their own choice of suppressed secondaries. Soap had gone with a Fennec 45 and Ghost had decided on an FN Scar 17. They had the heaviest load outs of everyone else on the team because of the snipers, and looking at one another Soap said quietly, "I'm gonna hate this mission Lt…"

Ghost's shoulders shook with a snort as he side eyed the Scot before returning his attention to getting his schute and pack ready. Soap turned before the big man caught his own smile. It was nice seeing him enjoying something even if it was just a few comments from his idiot mouth, but he wasn't about to admit that to the Brit. Ten minutes later the cargo hold opened as they neared their drop zone. Price stood at the front looking down before he backed up a couple steps and looked down at the navigator in his hand. All eight of them were quiet as the Captain waited to give them the clear for drop. Slowly his hand raised and then his eyes shot up and he waved them all forward. They stepped forward in pairs, one man on one side of the plane another on the other. They pulled their masks over their faces as they stepped out and then began their plummet to the ground. Soap watched Ghost step over before he shuffled forward and then he followed after with Price right behind him.

Blue eyes watched below until he saw Gaz's schute open and then a second later Ghost's opened. He reached for his own shoulder readying himself before he pulled hard at the string. His stomach dropped as it refused to budge. He tried again this time harder, before he heard Price's voice over the comms. "Bravo 7-1 deploy your schute. You will miss the landing zone, deploy your schute now."

Soap's mind raced with a thought before he answered quickly, "Negative Bravo 0-6, bad schute, I repeat bad schute." The Scot was losing control of his descent now, his body beginning to tumble. He pulled again at the cord as he fought to right himself and it snapped, the handle coming off in his hand before he let it go, the cord falling and his schute remaining stubbornly closed. "FUCKIN HELL," he screamed at the parachut that refused to open on his back. He had forgotten momentarily about the open comms letting everyone know just how freaked out the snapping of a parachute had made him. Before he began tumbling through the air again he reached for the emergency schutes chord and pulled. It opened, his body jarring and his head screaming as his whole body was jerked by the opening of the schute, he felt his voice cracking up his throat letting out a few groggy words. It was never the landing that killed you, it was the force of the fall, and Soap had gotten dangerously close to that line. But instinct kicked in, his hands reached up fumbling for the straps as he tried to get his head back on straight.

He blinked a few times as the Captain yelled at him before he finally heard what it was he was saying. "BRAVO 7-1 YOU ARE GOING TO MISS THE LANDING ZONE! I REPEAT YOU ARE GOING TO MISS THE LANDING ZONE!" The blue eyed man swung his head around and then up, seven other schutes floated through the air above him headed in the opposite direction. Shit, he couldn’t think straight, his mouth opened and a few unconstructed babbles fell out before he shook his head and forced his mind to focus.

"Shite, bloody hell. Why's it always me?" His words finally made it out, a bit slurred at first but finally clearing up, as he answered, "Copy Bravo 0-6. I'm on my emergency schute Captain, turning now but I will miss the LZ. I repeat I will miss the LZ. Don't wait for me Price. I'll make it there Captain, I told you I've got timing." Soap turned himself around then, looking to the ground as he tried to judge just how far off he was gonna be.

"You've got timing yeah, Soap, shite timing that’s almost as bad as your luck." Price's deep voice complained to the Scot who laughed at that. He wasn't wrong, things like this always seemed to happen to only him like some kind of accident magnet. In the next few minutes his feet hit the ground and he ran forward with the momentum a few yards, legs and head wobbling as he fought to keep his balance. It was just a moment of unsure steps before he righted himself, pulled his mask off, and took a deep breath. The other schutes disappeared over a ridge and Soap glanced around him with his stomach sinking. Everything around him was dark, and he shed his parachute off his back. He flipped his night vision down and looked about ensuring he wasn't in immediate danger before he shed his pack and rifled through. As he did Price's voice sounded again in his ear, "Bravo 7-1, this is Bravo 0-6 how copy?"

Soap flipped up his goggles before he looked down at the navigator, eyes narrowed and then answered Price, "I'm ten kliks south east of your position Bravo 0-6."

It was silent for a moment as Soap repacked and slung the bag back over his shoulder. Finally, Price said "Ok Soap you'll be approaching the city from the same angle as us. Head northwest we'll clear a way as best we can but stay frosty. You'll have to watch your own back. You'll be cutting it close and you'll only have an hour of padding to make it to the outer houses as per our original timeline before you will have to stay a day in the desert. Do not be late Soap we can't scrub this mission because you have the worst luck known to man."

"Aye Captain, I'll be there." The line went silent as did he as he started out at a run. At least he was going to be getting his cardio in for the next few days. Enough cardio to last him a lifetime honestly. The terrain was rough and he swore he could hear his older self yelling into his headset about this mission being the reason he couldn't climb stairs anymore. The team had been given three hours originally in their timeline to make it from the LZ across twenty kliks of open desert and to the outskirts of the city. It had been plenty of time for them even if they had been held up. Now he had to make it across thirty by himself in that same time frame. He stopped as he hit the top of the ridge he had watched the others disappear over, night vision on as he took a knee and grabbed his canteen. His eyes scanned the dunes below before spotting the parachutes that had been shed below, along with several men between him and the direction he needed to be going. "Fuck…"

He had forgotten about the open mics on comms again until Price's voice came through, "What's wrong, Soap?"

"I found your schutes, and it seems they did too, Price. Five military aged males, unsure if they're armed or with the fighters in the city but they're between me and you, I'll have to go around." The Scotsman closed his canteen and stood again surveying the land for the easiest way to get around those men without getting caught.

"Make it happen Sargeant. Make it happen, quietly.” He could hear the tension in the Captain’s voice, but he could also hear the unspoken request there. The need to hear something that let them all know everything was fine. Soap’s outburst over the open comms when he was in freefall had set them all on edge. And watching as he had plummeted to the ground while yelling bad schute had put a tension in their bones that wasn’t likely to dissipate until the man was back beside his team.

The Sargeant took a deep breath as he nodded for a few moments quietly and answered, “Oh not this shite again. One fuckin time. I’ll be there and when I am you can add another fuck up to the eulogy.”

Gaz came over the comms then and he could hear the smile behind his voice, “I’ve already finished my first draft Soap. I’ll let you read it when you get here. Lanster said I was a poet after he read it, isn’t that right?”

One of the guys from the other team spoke up then, an Irishman, “He’s right MacTavish, he’s a poet of the dead.”

Soap had already started running across the ridge and down to continue his thirty kilometer run as Gaz and Lanster joked with him. His heavy breaths sounded over the comms along with his words, “Taigh nam gasta ort.”

He heard Gaz’s quiet snickering as Ghost’s comms activated and his voice sounded out, “English Johnny.”

“Sorry ‘bout that Lt. Let me translate for ya.” The line was silent for a second as Soap caught his breath and then said in a low growl, “Fuck off.”

Again there was silence for a few moments before Ghost spoke up again, “That’s better Johnny.”

The silence permeated the conversation again as Soap focused on not running himself into puking with the weight on his back and focusing on running the rest of the twenty kilometers without getting lost or shot or running out of time. As he hit the fifteen kilometer mark Price’s voice broke the silence again. “We are entering the city now Soap, what’s your status?”

The Sargeant didn’t stop running, he had an hour and a half left and he was cutting it closer than any of them were comfortable with. Instead his words came out in pants, slipping out in a rhythm that followed his steps. “I am fifteen klicks out. Be there soon, Captain.” 

“See you then Sargeant.” Price let the conversation die again as Soap trudged along. 

He had long since left the schutes and the men who had found them behind, the city was visible in the distance now an outline across the now flat sands in front of him. His chest was heaving now as he stopped, dropping to a knee once more and pulling out his canteen. He took a drink, closing his eyes and focusing on controlling his breathing before he asked, “Bravo 0-6 this is Bravo 7-1, I see the city now. I’m ten klicks out. Please advise.”

It took a few moments and he was about to repeat when Price answered, “You have exactly sixty-seven minutes until that sun is in the sky and we are visible. You will make it here on time Sargeant. I’ll send Ghost out, and he will guide you the rest of the way here once you are at the city. Inform of your location upon entering the city limits Bravo 7-1.”

Soap closed the canteen and was moving again before he answered, “Rog, be there soon sir.” So much running, too much damn running. His lungs were screaming at him ten klicks ago and his legs were wanting to give out long before that. Sand made everything so much worse, he hated sand. It was clinging to his skin, and getting in every crevice of his skin. And when he got all of this done today he’d have to do it again when he and Ghost were trying to exfil. His voice panted into the comm then, “I’d like it to be on the record sir that this is the worst mission you have ever put us in.”

The smile was evident as Price answered, “Copy that Sargeant. I’d also like it to be on the record that this is entirely your fault for packing a bad schute. You’d already be sitting down, enjoying a nice MRE with us if it wasn’t for that. Should have woken up earlier to check your gear, maybe then you wouldn’t be running thirty kilometers through a desert trying to catch up.”

“On second thought I’ll take the running sir. Can’t stand MREs.” The Scotsman shook his head at the thought of the dry food especially here in the desert. His mouth was already dry enough he didn’t need the help of those crackers that could choke any man alive. As humorous as he was trying to be, that tank was running empty with his legs. He waited to see if Price had anything else to say before he reached up to where his comm was attached to his vest and switched it off. “Fuck me sideways, mate. Should have checked the fuckin schute, why is it always my ass in the jam?” His head hung forward as he ran, a hand reaching up to his forehead and wiped some of the sweat away before his fist balled up and smacked into his forehead a couple times as if he was trying to smack sense quite literally into his head.

He left the comm off for a few more minutes as he outlined every stupid thing he had done on this mission so far and even on the last. Every detail replayed in his mind as the desert passed by providing the perfect screen for his mental movie. Before he had himself thinking as far back as his childhood Soap closed his mouth and turned the comm back on to hear Price’s voice at a low whisper, “-ou copy damnit!?”

“Bravo 7-1 copy sir. What’s wrong?” A string of curses came from the comm in his ear as he answered and Soap forced his legs to keep moving despite the sinking feeling returning to his stomach and the pain coursing through his overworked body.

The Captain kept his voice low though, “You have fifteen minutes left Sargeant and we have hostiles outside. Ghost is confident he can make it to you but he needs to go now and he needs to know where he’s going.”

“Copy sir, hold.” Soap looked around, he had been following the road about thirty meters away to keep out of sight of anyone who might have been around it. He looked for something, anything, to indicate where exactly he was so that he didn’t have to stop to find his navigator and finally a stop sign caught his eye. “I’m at a stop sign, another across the street. Main road headed northwest into the city. There is a blue house across from me, and I’m standing by a gray house.”

“Good copy Bravo 7-1, hold for orders.” He heard Ghost and Price talking but he failed to pay much attention as he caught sight of at least twenty hostiles ahead. At least there weren’t any fucking dogs. “Ok Soap, Ghost is leaving through the backyard now. Seven houses down, the brown one with the concrete steps and the black railings, that’s where we are. You need to make it across the street and rendezvous with Ghost in the alley out back. Do you copy?” Soap stepped forward slowly, peeking out for only a moment before he counted the houses out. “Soap, do you copy?”

The man stepped back again and spoke quickly, “Negative sir, I can’t see the houses that far. Twenty plus hostiles headed my way now. I’m risking getting caught looking if I try.”

“Do not engage, I repeat do not engage. Find a way across Bravo 7-1 and do not be seen. We can’t alert them that we’re here, not yet.” Soap sighed as he peeked back around the corner once more. The hostiles were still far enough away they couldn’t see him peeking but if he wanted to cross the street this was not the place.

The Scotsman stayed quiet for a few minutes trying to think of something before finally speaking again, “Understood Bravo 0-6. Bravo 0-7 do you copy?”

It was barely a moment before Ghost’s deep, raspy voice answered him, “I copy Bravo 7-1. What’s your status?”

“I have to head back down the road, there’s nowhere to cross this close to the house. I saw a drainage pipe further down the road, I’ll use that to cross.” Soap turned already heading down the road as he outlined where he would be.

“Good copy Johnny. I’ll meet you there, hurry up.” Ghost said little but he heard the tension and he knew very well why that was.

“Understood. I’ll be there soon, Lt.” He went quiet again and looked at the horizon, what had been light purple a few minutes ago was now turning orange. He was out of time. He had shown up late. Another fuck up to add to the growing list, lately it seemed the list was growing endlessly. The Scotsman eyed the ground until he spotted what he was looking for, the drainage pipe that was just wide enough for him to crawl through with his gear on to the other side of the street. The sun’s rays were beginning to hit the buildings, if he wasn’t in the alley in the next few minutes they would see him. He would be caught. Not much farther, he would be able to stop and relax soon just get there and finish this final leg of the marathon. 

As he climbed out of the pipe he looked up at a black balaclava with a white skull sewn to the front. Blue eyes went wide before he took a breath hanging his head for a second to the sand he was crawling across. He got up on his knee which triggered a smile in the skull-faced bastard in front of him, “It’s a bit early for a proposal Johnny, don’t you think?”

“Oh piss off Lt.” Ghost reached a hand down to him and helped the Scotsman up and clapped him on the back before Soap leaned over. He was officially at his limit and it was showing now. “Fuck me sideways, how much farther now?”

Ghost leaned forward reaching for Johnny’s pack which the Scot readily handed over. “Not much farther, come on.” Ghost slung Soap’s pack over his shoulder and he sent a silent thanks to God for the relief. Ghost took off at a sprint back towards the mouth of the alley which Soap was quick to take off after, the burn in his thighs making him wince every time his foot touched the ground. The time for quiet was over, the city was waking up and the twenty hostiles coming down the road would be too close to take their time now. Ghost entered the alley at a full tilt with Soap hot on his heels. The big man stopped beside a section of tall fence and turned back, “Up ya go, Johnny.” Ghost’s gloved hands were interlocked as he prepared himself to boost the stocky man up and over the wall. The dark haired Scotsman took the boost swinging a leg over then reaching down for the pack from Ghost and then helping the big man climb back up before they both landed together. Ghost led him inside the dark house which was getting brighter as the sun rose. He saw Gaz posted up on a window and watched the men outside while Price sat on a couch watching them enter the living room. The other four men were laying down on the floor of the kitchen sleeping until it was their time to take watch.

“Nice of you to join us, Soap. Have a nice run?” Soap stared the Captain down, hands laced behind his head and heart still pounding hard in his chest. He shook his head finding he was far past done with being their comedic relief for the time being, he was too tired to come up with some gaelic insult and too winded to say it even if he could.

“Never thought I’d see the day Soap had nothing to say,” Gaz joked in quiet words.

That set him off as he shot back, “You try running thirty kilometers in three hours avoiding hostiles, carrying that fuckin pack, and on sand no less. Mach na galla. Thalla’s cagainn bruis.”

Gaz smiled wide and pointed at him, “There he is. Now he’s here, Captain.”

Soap threw them a dismissive wave and set his pack down by the door where the rest of 141’s bags were sitting. Ghost slipped by him into the room to sit on the couch at the opposite side as Price. Quietly watching the others, possibly even asleep, Soap could never tell with him. Price watched the Scotsman for a moment before he picked up an MRE from his bag and threw it to him, “Eat up Soap, you got a long couple days ahead of you.”

The Sargeant gave a simple nod, “Aye Captain.” Soap opened the MRE pack and stared down at the unappetizing meal in front of him, “Course you saved the best one for me, yeah?” He looked down at it, nearly gagging just at the memory of what this particular one tasted like, and ten times worse what it felt like.

“Oh yeah Sargeant, we picked that one just for you.” The Captain stood up giving Soap a slap on the shoulder, “Make sure you finish it, we can’t leave evidence behind we were here. No trash and such.” Soap didn’t look back up as he stared disgustedly inside the package at the veggie omelet that glared back at him threateningly. 

A tall, broad man shuffled down the hall pulling an IV pole along beside him. His steps were short and his other hand was glued to the place where a bullet had put him in the hospital when they had gotten back two days ago. As the large man reached the soft glowing lights behind a dirty pane of glass, and the many bags of chips, candy, and granola bars that sat just behind that he smiled and inspected the many options. The hospital food had been driving him up the wall and he was tired of eating the shitty food that the nurses brought in every day. His lips smacked behind the black face mask that Soap had brought him the first day he had come by. It wasn’t what he preferred to wear but it was better than nothing. Just like one of those snacks behind the glass would be.

His only problem was that he didn’t have money, and he didn’t exactly have anyone he could borrow some from. Instead the big man leaned down, his arm snaking through where you were supposed to pull your snack from. Instead he was reaching up into the machine, one eye closed in a wince while the other tracked his progress through the dirty glass. He almost missed the movement in the smudged glass as he froze. He had been caught red handed trying to steal from the hospital’s vending machine. Slowly he turned his head, arm still shoved up to the elbow inside the hole. He looked up at Captain Price whose eyebrows were furrowed, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Konig’s eyes shift back to his arm and then once more to Price. “H-Hello Captain,” slowly the arm pulled out of the vending machine, the German’s eyes staring down at the floor while Price continued to stare a hole into the side of his face.

The Captain sniffed once and cleared his throat before asking, “Do you want something Konig?” The German looked up then, a bit surprised before nodding. Price pulled a wallet out then, helping Konig up and asking him, “Which one?” The big man pointed slowly to a bag of m&ms and Price nodded as he punched in the number and leaned down to get the bag for the big man. As he handed it over to Konig another question came off his lips, “How would you like to join the 141 Konig?”

----------

It was Gaz that had shown up first to Soap’s room, banging a fist hard against the door the rest of the barracks be damned. The team had been sequestered to base for the past two days since they got back, they had brought an ex-KSK back to the UK which had caused…problems. Problems that Price was supposed to be fixing, like he always fixed the things Soap did without thinking. Meanwhile the Scotsman had slept for an entire day without leaving the room, only waking up to use the bathroom before going straight back to the darkness that awaited him. Gaz had tried to stop him on the way back, earning a friendly smile from the Sergeant and a raspy voiced, “I’m tired man, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” And Soap had disappeared back behind his door to sleep for another twenty hours.

And now here Gaz was again, banging on the door and yelling through it, “Come on Soap wake up!” The noise paused and the dark haired man pressed his body back into the mattress. It only lasted a few seconds though before Gaz hit the door again and said loudly, “I know you’re awake in there Soap, you’ve been sleeping for two days, you haven’t even come out to eat man. Come on, answer me.” Again the noise paused and Soap pulled the pillow over his head, groaning quietly into the mattress just wanting Gaz to leave him alone so he could pass out.

The next voice surprised him though, and the words even more so as Ghost spoke up, “We’ve got something on Price, Johnny.” The words were simple and quiet and just interesting enough to cause the Scot to roll over.

It had piqued his interest enough to drag himself out of the bed as he stood slowly on stiff legs, stumbling a bit as he caught himself against the wall. His foot caught against the edge of the bed in the pitch black and a quick, “Fuck” escaped his throat, dry and struggling to form the word. Finally he made it to the door, opening it with deliberate slowness. The light of the hallway shone into the room and illuminated a half naked Soap who was clothed only in his underwear. He wasn’t about to get dressed until they proved what they had was worth it. Blue eyes closed hard against the light as he flinched and struggled to put his eye on the two men who stood outside his door being illuminated by the light of the hallway. The blue eyes slid slowly between Gaz and then to Ghost, “What do you have?”

Gaz looked up at Ghost before the man lifted a gloved hand and showed Soap the object in his hand, “His laptop.”

Soap stared at it for a second and then turned his gaze to look up into the eyes of the tall man and nodded, “Give me a second.” Gaz smirked from beside Ghost as Soap shut the door to find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. The door opened again to find Gaz was leaning against the doorframe and Ghost was leaning against the opposite wall. Soap beckoned them inside with a jerk of his head, moving aside and watching as Gaz slipped in with the laptop in hand and then Ghost moved towards him as well, bending over before he passed through and picking up a bag with the familiar golden arches and a jug of water off the floor. He handed the bag and the jug of water over to Soap as he pushed into the room. Soap’s eyes turned down to glance into the bag and then turned to the other two, “Did they release us from base while I was asleep?”

“No,” came Ghost’s quick and minimalistic reply.

“Then how did you-” He stopped his question when Ghost turned to look at him with eyes that said, ‘Does it really matter?’ Soap held up his hands as he let it go and inspected the inside of the bag, reaching in to pull out a few fries and taking a seat on his bed. “So how did you get Price’s laptop? And why?”

“Gaz was bored and you weren’t there for him to dare to do something stupid. And do you really need me to elaborate on the how?” Ghost tilted his head, sitting with one arm up on the back of the short couch and again Soap let it go as he dug in the bag for some more fries.

The Scotsman tipped the water jug back as he downed as much as he could in one go before clearing his throat and looking at Gaz. “So what, are we trying to figure out who is Price’s favorite or something? Figure out which one of us he has a picture with on his home screen?”

Gaz snapped his fingers and pointed at Soap then, “Exactly mate. Problem is we can’t figure out his password to get in. Now we’ve tried everything we can think of. All the classics 123456789, password, his name, we tried task force 141 and every variation of it. Hell we even tried the name of some of his old team members. Nothing, nada, we’re out.” 

Soap was five chicken nuggets deep into his meal now, looking between the two men with a smirk on his face, “Are you serious?” Ghost looked at Gaz over the back of the couch where Gaz was sitting at his desk. Soap laughed at the both of them and shook his head as he licked his fingers and stood up, leaving the bag of food and the jug on his bed. “Move Gaz,” the Scotsman shouldered in leaning over to type quickly into the password bar, ‘SoapIsAWrench141’. He didn’t press enter before he went back to the bed and continued his meal. “So who are we betting is going to be on his home screen? Personally my money’s on Laswell, they’ve known each other forever.”

Blue eyes flicked between the two and Gaz shook his head, smirking when he answered, “Obviously it’s gonna be me. We all know he likes me the most.”

He could see the sideways look from Ghost immediately as the man shifted to watch the Sergeant over the back of the couch, “You? I’ve known him the longest. I get away with ten times the shite you ever could.”

“Bullshit, mate. You only get away with that shit because you’re fuckin Ghost.” Gaz shot back at the big man.

Soap’s hand shot up, “I’d like to be fuckin Ghost.” They both turned to look at the Scotsman with fries hanging from his mouth and more halfway there. He had frozen in place though realizing what he had said immediately and how it sounded. His face burned red, ears beginning to steam with the embarrassment of it. “I didn’t mean it like…that…” He looked down at the bag and just about anywhere other than at Ghost, “I meant I wanted to be Ghost, not fuck-”

“Shut the hell up Johnny,” Ghost stopped him before he dug himself further into a hole he couldn’t climb out of. Soap nodded his head with pursed lips and gave the Lieutenant a thumbs up as he went back to devouring his food. “Gaz, unlock the damn thing.”

Soap looked up as the other Sergeant turned in the chair to press enter and the screen went black for a second and then the home screen popped up. Price’s face dominated the screen, he was in his boonie hat with the sand camouflage pattern on it sitting in a beach chair and laying back with a black swimsuit on and thick black sunglasses. All of them stared silently at the screen before turning eyes to each other. Soap had sucked in his bottom lip and smiled as his teeth bit into the soft flesh to hold in his amusement. Gaz had put a balled up fist on his mouth and was beginning to shake with the start of a laugh. And Ghost, well Ghost looked the same as he always did because he had a mask on. Subdued laughs began bubbling up in the younger two men’s throats, each returning their eyes to the photo of their Captain relaxing on a beach, a sight they never thought they would see.

“What the hell are you three muppets doing?” In their laughs neither of them had noticed when Price had shoved the door open to Soap’s room. The laughs cut off immediately, Ghost it seemed was the only one to have noticed the disturbance before Price had made it through the door as he was now standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed.

The Captain immediately caught sight of his laptop sitting on Soap’s desk, opened and with the home screen shining bright into the center of the room. He looked to Soap who was also devouring a bag of fast food despite all of them having been stuck on the base for the past two days. Soap dropped the chicken nugget he was holding into the bag immediately pointing to the other two men as Gaz and Soap returned the friendly fire directed at the Scotsman. “Are you kidding me? I have been asleep the past two days and you’re going to blame me!?”

“Affirmative,” Ghost answered before turning his gaze back to Price.

The Captain walked over to Soap’s desk without a word, closing the laptop and picking it up with one hand. A dark look was in the Captain’s eyes now before he spoke, “0300 tomorrow morning boys. Enjoy your meal, Sergeant, you’ll be losing it in a few hours.”

A look of desolation painted Soap’s face as he looked down at his food and then to his two teammates. “Oh come the fuck on…” Ghost was hanging his head with his hands in his hoodie pocket now, they had grossly miscalculated and now they were all going to be paying for it.

Gaz was the first to stand and leave quietly, too stuck in his own mind about what torture Price had planned for them tomorrow morning to say much else to the other two. Ghost hung around for a few more minutes head tilting back to the ceiling lost in his own thoughts. When he too made for the door Soap sighed and said, “Thanks anyways for the food Lt. See you in a few hours.”

Blue eyes opened wide as he stared into the darkness that surrounded him, he struck out at the arm that had jostled his shoulder. His mouth opened but before he could utter a sound a gloved hand covered his mouth and another held his shoulder down. It was just enough time for Soap to follow the arm up, staring into Ghost’s eyes for a tense moment before the hand that had been on his shoulder raised to the Lieutenant’s mouth indicating he needed to be quiet. A slow nod communicated his understanding as Ghost removed his hand and backed up. The Scotsman sat up from the couch he had been stretched out on and looked around giving Ghost a confused look. He gestured with a jerk of his chin towards the kitchen which was near the back of the house before he led Soap into the backyard where the Sargeant’s bag had already been laid up against the side of the house.

The Captain looked up as they exited the house and he whispered, “We’ll be together for about thirty minutes and then we’ll break off. Be quiet, there are hostiles all around the city and they cut the power some time this morning so we are in the blind, Laswell doesn’t have access to city’s cameras anymore. Come on.” No one said anything, just grabbed their things and headed for the fence. Soap was the first over as Ghost boosted him, Price doing the same for Gaz beside him. The two Sergeants landed on the other side, night vision goggles pulled down in front of their eyes, scanning the alley carefully before Soap knocked his knuckles against the fence. Gaz and Soap watched either side of the alley as the others climbed the fence. When they had all made it over they split into groups of four with Soap and Ghost both at the back, backpedaling until they left the alley and continued on to the pitch black streets. Not even the moon hung in the sky now, the sliver that had lit the sand up the night before having disappeared completely in its cycle.

The eight men continued into the city together until it was time for Ghost and Soap to split up. They paused between a stand of buildings as Price spoke quickly to them, “Get to your overwatch position. You will be our eyes and ears. Stay frosty team two.”

Ghost nodded once quietly before Soap answered for the both of them, “You too Captain, I think we’ve had enough wrenches in the plan already.”

Price turned back to the main road and glanced over his shoulder as he and Ghost backed up, “You keep us stocked on wrenches Sergeant.” He saw the smirk on Price’s mouth before he leaned forward, “Let’s go, Lanster.”

“Rog,” the simple word came over all of their headsets as the young man leaned forward into the street looking around before leading them all out. Before Price had disappeared around the corner Soap and Ghost were already turned and headed down the alley towards their own objective. The building had been confirmed as a local hub for business matters and with the evacuation of the outer homes it was supposed to be clear of just about all activity. Neither the Sergeant nor the Lieutenant took the intel at its face value though. 

They moved quietly through the door as Ghost opened it. Soap swept the muzzle of the gun around, eyes hyper focused on any movement but there was none. He whispered quietly into the mic, “Clear Lt.'' The skull-faced balaclava entered the door behind him, shutting and locking it as he did. They headed for the stairs, every movement controlled and efficient.

When Ghost lined up on the stairwell door his eyes glanced up to the Sergeant, a confused look in his gaze at the face Soap was making before he asked, “What’s wrong, Sergeant?”

The blue hues moved to look at Ghost as he answered, “There’s going to be so many stairs Lt.” 

An annoyed sigh came from behind the balaclava as Ghost muttered, “Fuckin’ hell Johnny.” The Sergeant sighed and then lifted his gun to his shoulder and nodded to the waiting man. Soap watched the door open and pushed into the stairwell, he froze in his tracks before he tripped and glanced down at his feet before his attention shifted to the stairs, his gun aimed at the levels above just in case.

Two dead bodies laid in front of him, bullet holes littering their chests, a man and a woman’s lifeless eyes looked up at him, the fear of their last moments still on their expressions. He shook his head whispering, “Bloody Jesus Ghost, they were killing their own people too, not just ours.” He stepped over the two and heard a shaky breath come from under the stairs. His gun immediately shifted to the sound, staring into the dark corner before he took another step forward, his finger just above the trigger and ready to fire. He swung around and his gaze shifted to the floor again, a child’s eyes stared up at him. They were round and full of tears, and it wasn’t just because it was likely his parents that were sprawled out on the ground. The boy’s face was pale and he had dark circles around his eyes, glancing down Soap saw his hand holding his chest. The front of his clothes were soaked in red, and his hand that was trying to hold him together was shaking over the wound as he tried to move but couldn’t. “Get in here Ghost, there’s a kid.”

The man clad in his dark hoodie and jeans slipped through the door and closed it behind him before he turned to see what the hell Soap had meant by there was a kid. Sure enough a child was laying in front of the Scotsman who was kneeling now in front of the child. Soap’s hand pulled the boy’s away and he heard a soft groan of pain from him. Ghost looked up the stairs, checking to make sure no one else had been present to hear that before he joined Soap, standing just above his shoulder. The tall man put his hand on Soap’s shoulder lightly as he looked down at the boy, there was no saving him, evac couldn’t get here in time and even if they could he wouldn’t survive being moved. He was already dead, his body just didn’t know it yet. Price’s voice came through the comms then, “Team two this Bravo 0-6 repeat your last.”

Ghost spoke for the Scotsman this time, “We found a kid, he’s alive for now but there’s nothing we can do for him. He’s been here for a couple days looks like.” Soap’s jaw tensed at the statement as he sighed, putting the boy’s hand back on the wound.

“Are you sure nothing can be done?” Price asked, tension evident in his voice.

“Affirmative sir, he wouldn’t survive being moved.” Soap was the one to answer then, as he tried to move the boy towards him before he stopped, the pain written on the kid’s face making it very obvious that he was in fact doomed to die here.

Ghost glanced back up the stairs and gestured with a look, “Come on Johnny, we have to go.”

The Sergeant bit the inside of his cheek before he sat down with the boy. Blood covered his hands now as it did his chest when he moved the boy up into his lap. “Give me a second Ghost, just a couple.” Soap smiled down at the kid, trying to sound as calm and soothing as he could, “It’s ok kid, I don’t know if you can understand English but it’s ok, I promise.” The kid looked up at him, the breaths that had been coming in shaky and shallow evened out. They deepened as he seemed to get that they weren’t here to shoot him again and that they weren’t with those who had killed his parents. Soap smiled as he pointed up to Ghost, “Look at that guy, doesn’t he look silly with that mask?” The boy certainly knew some kind of English because he smiled as well nodding at Soap’s words. The blue eyes looked up to Ghost’s before his hands that had been stroking the kid’s hair and soothing him jerked the boy’s head to the side and up. It was quick, as painless as he could make it. Better than lying on this floor for however many hours it took, or being carried through the streets and given false hope only to die on the way there, sobbing and in pain. A smile was still on his face and Soap looked away as he closed the kid’s eyelids and stood up. “Couldn’t leave knowing he was suffering down here Lt. I’m sorry.”

The big man stared at the Scotsman for a moment, eyes unreadable before he nodded, “If you hadn’t I would’ve. Better than his alternatives. Come on Johnny, let’s go.” Soap had already stood back up, bringing his gun up to his shoulder and nodding at Ghost as he started up the steps ahead of the Lieutenant. They made it to the roof without any other incident, both still imagining that boy lying under the stairs though neither would have admitted it. They both set up their positions, each pulling a spotter scope out of their packs before Ghost spoke, “Team two is in position Bravo 0-6. What’s your status?”

“Copy, hold.” Price went silent for a few seconds before he spoke again, “East side of the building, still in cover. About to make our move to the east entrance. Holding for your all clear.”

Ghost and Soap both looked through the thermal sights on the guns, scanning the building Team One would be entering as well as the open square they had to cross to get there. Soap was the first to call out, “Three hostiles in front of the building, males and armed 0-6. Four more two blocks east of you position and heading north on the street, looks like they have a dog with them so you need to move fast.”

Price spoke to the others in Team One before answering, “Good copy 7-1. Anything on your end Ghost?”

Ghost had been scanning the inside of the building as best he could before he reported in, “Negative sir but be advised the lower levels have fewer and smaller windows. You’ll be clearing blind until you reach the fifth floor.”

“Good copy 0-7, keep us posted if you see anything.” Price went silent as Ghost and Soap both acknowledged Price’s orders and then it started. “Take out the three in front on my mark, 3, 2, 1, execute,” a shot from Ghost and a shot from Soap and one from Team One and the three men outside dropped. That’s when they spotted the six men moving across the street and headed into the building. They entered and everything was essentially out of the snipers hands until they made it to the fifth floor where they exited the stairwell with both Ghost and Soap tracking them. “Anything on your end Team Two?”

“Affirmative sir, five hostiles end of the hall looks like they have three hostages with them,” Ghost answered. He got an acknowledgement from the Captain before he said, “My mark on 3, 2, 1, execute.” The men dropped as Lanster and Powell untied the hostages, pointing for them to leave and to leave fast before they hurried up the stairs behind the rest of Team One. “Multiple hostiles on the eighteenth floor, looks like they’re holding on to something real tight there sir. Probably our target.” 

“Good copy, headed there now,” the six men cleared each floor with the help of the two snipers on overwatch, moving at a steady pace upward through the building. When they made it to the eighteenth floor Team One stopped and Price spoke again, “Let us know when we are clear for entry Bravo 0-7.”

“Affirmative, hold your position,” Soap and Ghost put their attention on either side of the floor glancing to one another as Soap nodded he was ready before Ghost finally said, “You are clear for entry Bravo 0-6. Time to get loud.” The charge on the door blew as soon as Ghost cleared them, it took out the two guards stationed on either side of the door as well as the door itself. Gaz entered first, dropping three men down the hall that Ghost and Soap couldn’t see. Price was the next through the door, shots firing from his gun at men the snipers still couldn’t see. Lanster, Powell, Baris, and Holland were next laying cover fire down as all six men made entry, Holland firing shots at men who were coming from the floors above after hearing the explosion. The dark haired Sergeant held the door with Ghost’s help, firing shots through the opening and dropping a few men running down the stairs before they decided a different approach was probably best. They would come from another direction though, they weren’t giving up.

Ghost was covering the door on the east stairwell as Soap sighted in on the hallway. He watched as several men ran into the same door and shut it as fast as they could. He saw several other heat signatures inside as well before the door closed. “Bravo 0-6 be advised there are several hostiles currently in the room three doors down from your current position. At least ten, I recommend a C4 charge and a flashbang for entry. Target is likely in the room as well.”

“Copy that 7-1, moving forward to the door now. Watch the end of the hall as we make entry.” Price moved forward with Gaz right behind him as well as Lanster, Powell, and Baris.

Soap moved his sights to the end of the hall and answered, “Copy that Captain, you’re cleared for entry.” He dropped two men with back to back shots as they entered the hallway opposite of Holland. He saw the flare of the C4 charge even looking at the end of the hallway as Team One made entry. Soap kept his side locked down, knowing Ghost was doing the same on his end with Holland’s help.

“We have the target, I repeat we have the target. Exiting the room now with him, we are on our way to exfil now Team Two.” Price and the others exited the room quickly, a man was slung over Lanster’s shoulders as he exited and they headed for the stairwell. “Clearing down now, we’re in the home stretch boys.”

“Rog, get outta there old man,” Ghost turned to Soap then, “I’m setting up in sight of the exfil, keep overwatch on them until I have them in sight.” Soap nodded and Ghost moved quickly to set up his second position. 

The Sergeant kept his eyes on the team watching their backs and killing hostiles that were headed for them. He glanced at the plaza outside and said quickly, “Be advised Bravo 0-6 you have ten hostiles outside the building, possibly more.” He started popping heads then, watching as each of the men he could see fell with each of his shots. Soap then said, “All that I can see are dead, but stay frosty Price.”

“Copy that Soap, we’re exiting the building now,” he watched the six men exit and turn back the way they had come. Ghost would be able to see them soon as they headed back down the same roads they had entered on.

A voice sounded over all of their comms then, “Exfil is ten minutes out Bravo 0-6, let’s make this a clean cut operation yeah?” 

“Affirmative,” Price said immediately as the six men wound their way through the streets. As they left Soap’s sight he moved to where Ghost had already set up and was helping to cover their escape. The two snipers saw the incoming trucks as Team One made it back to the neighborhood they were exfilling from and watched as the target was loaded and the team climbed in. Then they were heading out, their extraction had been successful, another job well done. “We are extracting now Team Two, you are free to make your way to your primary extraction point.”

Ghost and Soap pulled their rifles down off the ledge and sat back, packing the rifles up and securing them on their packs. “Copy that Price, see you in a couple days,” Ghost glanced at Soap then with a deep breath before switching his comms off and waiting for the Scotsman to do the same. “Good job, Johnny. We should move though, come on.”

Blue eyes narrowed at Ghost before he said accusingly, “You turned your comm off so no one would hear you say I did a good job didn’t you? I can’t believe you.” Again he saw the movement of Ghost’s mouth that looked like he was smiling under his balaclava though he refused to confirm or deny the accusation. The Scotsman stood up following Ghost to the roof entrance and followed him down the thirty flights of stairs and out a side entrance of the building. Neither man looked at the bodies that littered the floor and the stairwell nor did they comment on it. There was no reason to pay attention and nothing they could do to help now, paying attention to it would only serve to worsen their already fragile mental states. Everything was packed behind the wall of their mind, sealed off with every atrocity they experienced. It was a thin line to walk though sealing those thoughts behind those many layers. A delicate balance in their minds that kept them sane even dealing with everything they had to experience.

Soap and Ghost turned their comms on as they left the building, they were outside the range of the team comms now, the only people who would hear them were each other now. “Hey Johnny,” he was surprised it was Ghost that broke the silence between them but he gave a grunt of acknowledgement quickly to let him know he was listening. “When does a joke become a dad joke?”

The Sergeant glanced at Ghost before asking, “I don’t know, when Lt.?”

“When it leaves you and never comes back,” eyes glanced at him as they walked quietly through the darkened streets to find Soap’s face barely holding back a laugh and struggling to suppress his smile as well. Ghost nodded slowly and he knew the Lieutenant was proud of himself at catching Soap off his guard with a pun. A terrible time for it really, but it just made it all the more funny. They made it fifteen blocks before Ghost checked his watch and led them inside a dark building. They went up to the second floor, clearing the building with quiet efficiency before they locked themselves into a room on the second floor and shed their gear. Their voices were quiet whispers in the silent city knowing that in about thirty minutes it would be coming to life around them, “I’ll take first watch Johnny, get some sleep.”

“Sounds good, Ghost. You want an MRE?” Soap dug in his pack for one of the good ones before pulling out another and handing Ghost the better of the two. The big man stared at it for a second before finally taking it and casting a weird look Soap’s way, he honestly had no idea what it meant.

“Thanks Johnny,” the Lieutenant turned his back to Soap before he lifted his mask. Soap watched for a second before he too turned his back and leaned back against the other man’s back as they held one another up. He listened in silence as Ghost ate, finding he enjoyed the quiet inhales and exhales of the man leaning into him now.

Soap finished his MRE before he spoke with a smirk on his face, “Hey Lt. Where did Joe go after getting lost on a minefield?”

The silence lasted a few seconds before Ghost asked, “Where?”

“Everywhere.” Ghost gave a soft chuckle and he felt the man nod his approval before he too finished his MRE and pulled his mask back down. “Good one.”

“I try my best Lt.” They sat quietly for a few minutes as the sun rose outside the shaded window. Without saying so they moved apart at the same time, Ghost finding a place to sit near the door that separated them from a city full of armed men and dead bodies. Soap settled on his pack using it as a pillow as he laid down. He had learned early to sleep whenever and wherever so the Sergeant was out within a few minutes.

It felt like no time at all when Ghost woke him with a light hand on his shoulder. Soap looked up at the skull-faced balaclava for the third time in as many days and gave him a tired smile, “My turn already?” The Lieutenant nodded and Soap sat up stretching his still tired muscles that were aching from his thirty kilometer marathon however many hours ago that was. The sun was high in the sky now and when Soap looked at Ghost he could see the redness of the man’s eyes, “Alright Lt. get some sleep, you deserve it.” A tired grunt was the only response he got as Ghost laid on the ground just below the window. He held his pack against his chest like it was a stuffed animal or something. Soap watched as he slid into sleep easily, mouth turning up at the corners.

That was how he spent his entire day, staring at the Lieutenant as he turned over a few times, the pack pulled to his chest. A thought crossed his mind as he considered what it might be like to take that pack’s place. He struck it from his mind as soon as it came though, it was no secret Ghost didn’t exactly like him. The big man merely tolerated his presence because on occasion he had proven to be useful. Most of the time it didn’t bother him, he was comedic relief for his team and he knew that, but when he was sitting quietly without anything for his hands and mind to focus on he started overthinking. It was a curse. Maybe he should bring something to do next time. A rubik’s cube maybe? That might be nice. Thankfully the sun started going down and Soap woke the Lieutenant. The wild look in his eyes set him on edge at first until Ghost looked around the room and the tension in his shoulders relaxed and he pushed himself up to sit.

As the sun sank below the horizon the two ate quietly, preparing themselves for a run in the desert. They had a day and a half to make it to their extraction point and neither wanted to face the repercussions for missing that deadline. Soap stood, lifting the curtain of cloth that hung over the window looking around. As the sun set, the lights of the city suddenly flashed on. The Sergeant pulled back some from the window then, “Fuckin hell, the lights are back on Ghost. They either know we’re here still or they have no clue and think they’re safe. I don’t like it either way.”

Ghost moved to kneel beside Soap as both looked out, people still milled about the streets heading to wherever they were supposed to go before the curfew set in. “Damn…” Ghost eyed the streets and he could see the thoughts working behind his eyes before he shook his head, “We’re not changing our timeline. Come on, we gotta go.”

Soap grabbed his stuff and the two left the building as fast as they could. They set off onto the street, avoiding patrols with perfect timing and luck. They were three blocks from being home free in the open desert. As they neared the corner of the alley they had been moving through, Ghost peeked out while Soap was on a knee behind him watching where they had come from. “Fuck…”

Soap didn’t turn around but asked quickly, “What’s wrong now?”

The silence that followed his question had Soap’s nerves on end, his mind wondering if they were about to be in a fight or flight situation. Finally Ghost answered, “I know him, he’s ex-KSK.”

“German special forces? What the fuck are they doing here?” Soap glanced over his shoulder at Ghost who was still watching around the corner.

“I said ex-KSK Soap. He hasn’t been on their payroll for a few years now.” Ghost waved him forward and the Scotsman moved up to look around the corner. Two men lay dead on the pavement, another kneeled with a sack over his head and his hands tied behind his back. The last was currently taking punches to the face and stomach, before they threw him to the ground. One of the men pointed a gun at the back of the hooded one’s head, looking back to the one Ghost had been talking about.

The man’s voice was loud, malice dripping from every word, “You have one more chance to answer me, don’t get the question wrong this time. Where are the men who took Suheil?”

The man who had been getting the shit beat out of him not five seconds ago stayed quiet for a few seconds before he shook his head. “I told you! I don’t know! I don’t know what men you’re talking about, I don’t know who the fuck Suheil is, and I don’t know where those men are! We've been here for months, listen to me! I-DON’T-KNOW! You want me to tell it to you in German? Ich weiß nicht!” The man with the gun stared hard at the other for a few seconds, head tilting slightly before he pulled the trigger. He never even turned to look at the man, just pulled the trigger and let his body slump to the ground lifeless. “Schweinehund! Fick dich! I don’t know anything!” 

Before Soap or Ghost even knew what was happening the man turned his pistol on the large man knelt in front of him now and pulled the trigger. “Die in the dirt like the dog you are. Know that we will get Suheil back with or without you.” The men with the gun left the large man as he slid slowly to the dirt.

Soap looked up at Ghost from where he was knelt, meeting his eyes for a moment before Ghost shook his head, “We have to go. He’s dead already.” A few more seconds of Soap staring and Ghost tried again, “You’ll get us killed Johnny, we have to go.”

“Not gonna happen Lt. We couldn’t save that kid, we can save him though.” Soap looked back out at the street, the man had pulled himself to the wall of a building and before Ghost could physically stop him Soap took off across the street.

“Damnit Johnny!” He heard Ghost as the man trailed behind him. As they neared the ex-KSK looked up with wide eyes at the both of them shuffling backwards as best he could with a gunshot wound and his hands tied. “Konig,” Ghost said quietly as he looked around, “Long time no see.” The large man on the ground tilted his head a bit before his eyes blinked a couple times and his body lurched forward slowly. Soap was there though, keeping him from hitting the ground and laying him down. “Hurry the fuck up Johnny,” the tension was palpable now as they were much too far out in the open.

“I’m working on it, Ghost,” Soap muttered under his breath as he lifted the man’s tattered shirt to find the entry wound. It was a rather terrible shot, Konig would have died without them sure, but it was unlikely to happen now with first aid so readily available. It was exactly like the shot on the kid from the stairwell, meant to let you suffer for as long as possible. Soap didn’t have much time to think about that though, not here, so he bandaged the wound quickly and slung the man over his shoulders. His eyes bugged at the weight for a moment before he nodded to Ghost, “Let’s go.” Neither wasted any more time on words as they took off down the street back to their original course.

They were in the open desert well before daybreak and as the sun began to rise they decided not to stop. They continued through the early morning, eventually Soap handing his bag over to Ghost as they jogged. The Lieutenant flat out refused to take any part in the saving of the German. Ghost had said he knew him, never had he said he liked him. They finally stopped as the sun was nearing midday, it was much too hot to keep going now, so they took shelter in a rocky outcrop. Konig had woken up a few times on the trek there, but had quickly lost consciousness again each time. He was still losing blood but at least it was slow, but Ghost had refused to stop so close to the city and Soap couldn’t exactly make him. He had already stretched his luck thin with the man and Ghost didn’t look like he was in a very forgiving mood, especially not in this heat.

He laid the large man down, pulling his medkit out of his pack as he did. He felt Ghost’s eyes drilling into his back as he lifted Konig’s shirt and pulled the bandage from earlier off. Blood leaked down the sweaty muscle but at least it was slow. Everything was quiet as Soap grabbed an injector from the kit, he slotted in a shot of morphine and shot the big man up with it watching as his face relaxed from the twisted sort of pain. He grabbed another injector then and muttered quietly, “Here’s hoping you aren’t allergic to anything big guy.” Soap watched as the antibiotic slid into the man’s body. The Scotsman didn’t dare move, as if doing so would set off the reaction he so desperately feared, but after a minute went by without any problems he took in a deep breath and nodded, “Hell yeah.” He heard a low grunt from Ghost but when he turned the masked man had his back to them, ignoring Soap completely for the first time since he had saved him a seat on that plane before all that shit went down with Graves. He shook his head, he didn’t have the time nor the energy to figure out what his problem was right now, he had just carried a man on his back through the desert he didn’t feel like handling all of the bullshit.

Soap instead put his mind to carefully bandaging and wrapping the wound, careful not to run the wrapping over the bruises on his abdomen from the men who had beaten him. He had given him morphine yeah, but eventually it would wear off and they didn’t have enough to give him a steady supply. Konig remained steadily asleep through the whole process, eyes closed and face wincing every now and then but Soap didn’t really think that was a physical pain, probably more of a mental one. He taped the wrapping off and glanced across the well formed physique as he pulled Konig’s shirt down. Ghost growled again, and again Soap looked over to see the Lieutenant’s back staring at him, “You ok Lt.?” Ghost glanced over his shoulder at Soap and rather than speak he merely nodded. Soap watched for a second as Ghost’s shoulders rose and fell with his breathing. “Are you sure, Ghost? You look…angry?” It came out as a question but it wasn’t, he was just not sure how he knew it was anger. Ghost growling was nothing new but it was the way he sat and ignored, refused to turn around, it just gave off angry vibes.

“I’m fine, MacTavish.” A dark eyebrow raised at the use of his last name. It was Ghost’s turn to feel a hard stare on his back and feel it he did because it was the only reason he turned around to look at him. “You could have gotten yourself killed helping him Soap, you don’t even know him.”

The Sergeant glanced down at Konig then shrugged, “You do though.”

“I never said I liked him enough for you to risk your life for him,” the tall man shot back immediately.

Another shrug from Soap drew an angry glare from the eyeholes of the balaclava. “He needed help. We went into that mission to take a man who had already slaughtered half of the citizens in that city. I wanted to actually help someone, and we couldn’t help that kid Ghost. I killed a child, a little boy whose only crime was being born in the wrong country, and this guy, Konig, was about to take the fall for something we did. I wanted to help Ghost, so I did.” They stared hard at one another, neither one accepting defeat in their stance on the matter.

It had been a week since the team had been given approval to leave the base, two days after the Captain had run them all near to death for the stunt they had pulled. At least Price had somehow gotten the whole issue with Konig squared away though none of them really knew how he had done it. The Captain had told them they could go do whatever it was that they wanted and they’d meet back on base in a week. It was a leave that they were given freely and that they were more than happy to take, it wasn’t often that you got a week off to go home and relax. But by the time midweek arrived the 141 group chat was lighting up with everyone except for the man who typically ran their conversations. They were all chomping at the bit except for Soap, the Scotsman was abnormally absent. As per tradition when coming off leave, sunday night the guys had met at the bar that was equidistant from all of their apartments but Soap never showed up and they didn’t stick around long after that. The smiling, good-natured Scotsman was the glue of their little family, he steered most of their conversations, he always made sure to engage them all in something they enjoyed talking about, and he was always prepared to give them a quick laugh. Without him the conversations were empty, boring, and the laughs were absent.

As Monday morning rolled around and they were set to meet at 0700 they were all a little worried that Soap wasn’t there by 06:30. Typically he was ready to go thirty minutes before they were supposed to be, the only person who ever showed up before him was the Captain but even that was only a few minutes before. Gaz was the only one who ever showed up chronically late and even he was there by 06:50. At 06:58 they spotted a disheveled Sergeant MacTavish sprinting around the corner of a building. His mohawk was in dire need of a fresh cut, his beard was in no better shape, he was pulling down the hem of his shirt like he was only just now putting it on, and he was holding one shoe in his hand the other which was at least on his foot but had yet to even be tied. He sprinted over to the group, already huffing in air even though workouts hadn’t even started yet. They all watched as Soap stopped a few yards away to pull his shoe on and then lace the both of them. When he was done he joined them, and they all expected something from him, anything really would have done but he stayed awkwardly quiet as they all looked at him. The Captain gave him a narrow eyed look before asking slowly, “You ok, Soap?”

The Sergeant gave a quick nod, “I’m fine, sir.” The reply was short and terse, their good-natured Scotsman sounded more like Ghost right now than any of them were comfortable with, especially Ghost. But every single man there was afraid to press those buttons, to ask him what was really wrong. He didn’t even come equipped with his usually beaming smile, he was devoid of a smile altogether. 

Instead of pressing it further though the Captain simply nodded, continuing to watch him for a few more seconds as Soap stared past him seemingly lost in thought now. “Come on boys, we’re only doing five kilometers today and then some sparring later.” Quick yes sirs from all of them and the four men took off, matching Price’s pace as they ran in sync.

Gaz was beside Price in the front with Soap and Ghost paired up a pace behind. They were halfway into the run, Ghost occasionally flicking his eyes to Soap who typically would have been cracking jokes and keeping subdued smiles on their faces through the whole run by now but this time he stayed eerily quiet. The Lieutenant said quietly, “Missed you at the bar last night.”

Blue eyes slid slowly to find Ghost to his right before Soap answered, “Sorry Lieutenant. I was busy.” Again the terse response drew out a narrow eyed look and the sound of his full rank coming out of Soap’s mouth quite nearly made Ghost flinch, Gaz was glancing back at him now as he listened and Price looking to Gaz for some kind of answer. Typically Soap would have found the staring uncomfortable, he had no problem with being the center of attention but having three men staring you down like you had shit on your face was cause to squirm. Usually anyway. Instead Soap’s mind was lightyears away, the man was running on autopilot and his communications systems had shut down leaving room for only two to three words per sentence if he could even manage that.

The fear to press those buttons and dig deeper to pull him out of his mind was still glaringly present though. Pushing yourself into a soldier’s mind was a dangerous thing, if you cracked those carefully constructed walls that allowed them to forget they might never recover. But Soap had been fine coming out of the mission, he had not seemed the least bit upset once they had gotten out of the desert. He had been tired of course but it wasn’t unusual for him to sleep so long after missions, it was part of his process and they had all seen it at work many times following their more physically taxing missions, everyone had their ways of dealing with things. But this facade, this mask that Soap had donned was nothing any of them had witnessed before. There had never been a time the Scotsman was unwilling to talk and smile and crack jokes, he had been hesitant on occasion but never just completely absent from their conversations.

The run seemed to take hours without the talking, weighing on all of them now as they all laced their fingers behind their heads. Except for Soap who crossed his arms over his chest and waited quietly for whatever the next order would be. The man wasn’t even breathing all that hard, he seemed mostly indifferent to it all now. Price beckoned them all to follow and so they did, heading inside the mostly empty gym and to a sparring mat on the floor. Price looked at Soap and beckoned him forward with a finger, watching the Scotsman step onto the mat. The Captain gestured for Gaz next and the other Sergeant did so as well. Finally Price said, “Alright go for it.” 

The speed at which Soap attacked first was blinding, he was a shorter and stockier man than the others but most of his strengths still lied, well in his strength. He was well built with corded muscle across his body. None of them had seen that kind of speed from him before today, and especially not the aggressiveness in every strike he threw. Soap’s punches were barely blocked by Gaz, and when Gaz was so preoccupied with keeping a punch off he didn’t expect the strong arms to lock around his body, his grip seemed to be made of iron then as Soap threw Gaz over his head. The other Sergeant was thoroughly winded but it wasn’t over yet. Soap was quick to stand watching as Gaz tried to as well before his arms locked around Gaz’s neck in a chokehold. The man was like a snake when he got Gaz to a knee. His legs wrapped around Gaz’s ribs  forcing the winded Sergeant to fall backwards. Soap’s back hit the ground but his grip stayed iron clad around Gaz’s neck. Every time the man let out a breath the hold tightened even more, Soap’s thighs like a crushing weight around the other man’s ribs. He couldn’t break the hold and finally Price called it, the Scotsman immediately let go as Gaz tried to catch his breath while laying back on Soap’s stomach, arms weak for a few seconds while his brain recouped the oxygen he had lost.

The Captain helped Gaz up then, glancing over as Ghost offered Soap a hand up. At least he took it, there was no malice in his actions or at least none that anyone else could see. It was simply a means to an end, the quickest and easiest way for him to end the sparring match. Soap wasn’t even looking at any of them anymore, his eyes had drifted to the far wall, his mind back in a loitering pattern until he was given another order. They didn’t spar much longer after that though before Price let them go to do whatever they wanted. Soap slowly made his way to the punching bags as he left the group behind, Ghost quietly following him as stealthy as he always was.

Soap didn’t bother with wrapping his hands up, that would take time and energy that wasn’t needed. Besides he could hear that voice in the back of his mind now since Price wasn’t there to fill the silence, it told him that he deserved it, that he deserved the pain and if he hurt his hands it was a just payment to stop the exhaustion and pain of his mind at least for a short time. The punches started out slow, controlled, and part of a pattern but it soon degraded. That was when the hits sped up, his fists connecting with more and more power and less downtime. The pain built with each strike and shut his thoughts up, closing his mind down for longer and longer as the pain increased. His fist connected and searing pain rushed through him. It lit his brain up with something other than the degrading thoughts he had been plagued with since he went to see his family on leave. The pain itself was a relief, a way to keep himself from losing his mind when the degradation became too much.

Soap’s mind was only on the punching bag and the relief it brought until he pulled back his arm about to strike even harder when a hand caught the inside of his elbow ripping away his momentum. The Sergeant seemed to be pulled out of the smoke then, looking around with an expression other than neutral for the first time that day. Confusion was written on his face as he followed the arm attached to the gloved hand all the way up to Ghost’s masked face. The Lieutenant stared at him for a few moments before asking, “What the hell is wrong with you, Johnny?” It wasn’t accusing as he had expected, it was worry stamped into his tone wanting to know what could possibly have happened to make Soap do this to himself.

Blood decorated his knuckles, his fingers already bruising and the pain lingered now for much too long despite the relief it was still bringing his tortured mind. “N-Nothing Lieutenant, I’m fine.” Ghost’s eyes widened and he could see his eyebrows raise even through the mask. Before he said anything more though Ghost glanced about the gym, taking note of the people before he jerked his head in a beckoning gesture and brought Soap along with him.

They exited the gym into the mostly empty parking lot, the only ears though were those of the sleeping cars. They moved through the parking lot until they made it to Ghost’s truck, black just like everything else he owned. He turned on the Sergeant then, eyes much more harsh now, “You are not fine, Soap. What’s wrong?”

Soap looked past the balaclava then and to the grassy bank behind him until he shifted his head to find Soap’s gaze once more, a look of expectancy written there. “I don’t know what you want me to say Lieutenant, but I’m fine.”

“Someone who is fine does not do this to themselves, Johnny,” Ghost reached down grabbing Soap’s wrist and pulling it up to show the Sergeant the damage he had caused.

“I didn’t- I don’t know- I didn’t have any-” his mind was faltering now. Seeming to short circuit as he tried to produce a sentence to explain away the bloody knuckles and the fiery pain there. He couldn’t though, he had been running on autopilot for too long now and his mind had seemingly forgotten how to speak. The exhaustion that had been hidden behind a careful mask was suddenly too visible in his eyes and the lines of his face. A wince of pain found his features as the pain in his hands finally registered as what it really was instead of the relief he had been imagining.

Ghost was watching him with a hard look that seemed to soften with every failed attempt to start a sentence. He shook his head, staring hard at the shorter man before he said, “Stop.” It was a simple order that the Scotsman followed easily enough. The tall man was still holding Soap’s wrist when he instructed, “Deep breath in Johnny,” Soap followed the order again holding his breath until Ghost said, “And then let it out.” He waited, letting Soap copy him a few more times before asking again, “Now, what is wrong Johnny?”

“Lieutenant-”

Ghost cut him off before he even got another word out, “And stop calling me that or are we being more formal because I can always call you Sergeant MacTavish if you want.”

“No, I’m sorry Ghost it’s just been. Well it has been a long week.” Soap sighed, reaching up with his free hand to rub at his forehead a bit, flinching away from the contact immediately when the pain flared in his hands.

“I’m listening,” Ghost leaned against the side of the truck watching Soap as he sorted through his mind trying to figure out where to begin.

Surprisingly it didn’t even start on the mission like Ghost had been afraid it would. “I went to see my family on leave, stayed with my parents and stuff. I shouldn’t have done it, I love them Ghost I do I swear it, but sometimes they just know right where to stick me. Kept asking me about work and then couldn’t understand why I couldn’t tell them. Mom was asking me why I wasn’t married yet, didn’t have any grandkids to bring home to her, not even so much as a girl I was dating, even more so than usual. Said I should be settling down like-like-like my brother or somethin. And my dad, well he’s my bloody father so everything was ‘Did you move out of that shitty apartment yet, John?’ ‘Got a house yet, John?’ ‘At least tell me you aren’t going to be driving that piece of shite car you’ve had since you were sixteen for much longer.’ ‘Oh John, you should look into the private sector, the pay is ten times what you’re making now.’ He just wouldn’t shut up about the whole bloody thing, Ghost. And then mom brought over fuckin Penny from down the road like I haven’t known her my whole feckin’ life. Chan eil fios agam dè bha i an dùil, ach thuirt mi ri Penny nach robh ùidh agam agus thug mama dìreach air ais mi gu leanabh beag.” He had switched to Gaelic without even realizing it, his anger pouring out like a faucet now that Ghost had unclogged the pipes. His rant continued for nearly five minutes with the Scotsman not even realizing he was telling Ghost every little detail of the week long leave and every thing that went wrong, and he said every bit of it in Gaelic so that Ghost had no idea what the hell he was really even saying. The tall man just kept leaning against the truck though, nodding along like he understood everything, his arms crossed over his chest while Soap paced back and forth two paces one way and two paces the other nearly shouting a couple times.

By the time he finished he was nearly out of breath and Ghost waited a moment to see if he had anything more to say. When it was obvious he wasn't going to say anymore Ghost asked, “So that’s why you didn’t come to the bar last night? And why you’ve been ignoring the group text?” Soap’s eyes shot up from where he had been looking at the lines on the ground then before darting away with a slow shake of his head. “Well why didn’t you show up then? You started the tradition, it's only right that you’re there.”

Soap hesitated then before he looked down with a little shrug and muttered, “I didn’t think you wanted me to be there.”

Ghost gave him another hard eyed stare that had Soap looking back to the grassy bank behind Ghost again. Until Ghost reached a hand up to the unshaven jaw moving Soap’s eyes back to his own. “Why would you ever think we don’t want you there? We only ever show up because of you Soap. Without you there isn’t really much reason for us to be there.”

Soap looked at his reflection in the shining paint of the black truck before he answered, “I don’t know. I guess my parents just got in my head. I tried to tell them more than once that I was happy, I have you guys and you are my family, but they just kept telling me I was putting too much into it. And you know maybe they’re right, I mean I’m loud, annoying, I say stupid shite all the time, there isn’t really much I bring to the team except for the occasional good shot. I mean I-” The air smacked out of his lungs as Ghost pulled him forward with a jerk, his arms squeezing tight around his ribs and very nearly strangling him with the force of the hug. It was surprising and warm and just what he needed when all he could think about was every stupid thing he had ever done or said or every time he had ever screwed up. The Sergeant returned the hug then, feeling himself melt against the Lieutenant. Before he even knew he was doing it his eyes dripped with tears, and Ghost was content to hold him there when Soap’s face pressed into his shoulder to hide what he could no longer control. It nearly made the big man cry too, feeling Soap’s body jerk with sharp inhales as he tried his best to hide the quiet sobbing. It was a sadness Soap had never dealt with before. Typically he had just let it run its course, accepting he would feel like shit for however long it took until his mind righted itself. But to acknowledge those thoughts and those feelings, well it was more than he knew how to process especially when Ghost was sitting here in the middle of a nearly empty parking lot holding him tight like he would break apart if he ever let go.

The time was lost on him while Ghost felt every second, letting Soap feel the emotions he had never allowed himself to. Slowly he pulled away, Ghost’s hold on him loosening until Soap backed up leaning back to find the truck with a hand and turning his face away immediately so Ghost couldn’t see the tears. They had soaked his shoulder until he could feel it through his shirt but somehow it felt more demeaning, made him feel like a weak child, if he let the other man see that. He gave a soft chuckle and shook his head, “Sorry about that Lt. I didn’t mean to spring that on you. Like I said, it was a long week.”

Ghost watched him for a moment and Soap’s face burned as the gaze bore into him. “Don’t be sorry, it’s fine.” He watched Soap nod but still the shorter man refused to look back at him, instead staring at the door of the gym as if waiting for someone to exit.

The blue eyed man wiped his face quickly giving Ghost a quick smile, it still didn’t reach his eyes but it was a smile at least, an attempt. “I should go, Ghost. I need to get out of here, you know?”

The tall man nodded, hands shoving into his pockets before he gestured to his truck with his chin, “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” He pulled his keys out, both listening as the doors unlocked.

Soap turned a confused glance towards him, “No you don’t have to do that. My car’s here, and you’ve got things to do today. I’ve got it Ghost.”

The Lieutenant who had already opened his door and was about to get in turned his head quickly back towards Soap as if the man had just insulted him. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. I’ll pick you up tomorrow on the way over here, we have to be here at the same time anyway. Get in.” He pointed to the passenger side then, waiting until Soap moved before the big man climbed inside as well.

Ghost held the medkit as he stood beside Soap outside the other man’s door, watching him silently until the shorter man finally managed to turn the key in the lock and push the door open with his shoulder. “Here we go, mi casa es su casa Lt.” The big man stepped inside behind him, glancing around the apartment. He had driven Soap home on multiple occasions from the bar when he was too drunk to drive himself, but this was the first time he had ever actually been inside. It was surprisingly plain, a far cry from what anyone would expect from the beaming Scotsman. A couch faced a TV that was hung on the wall and as Ghost stared at it he noticed it was a bit crooked like whoever had hung it hadn’t had any help and had just said ‘Fuck it’ and left it like that. There was a shelf on the wall next to the arm of the couch, it had a few houseplants that spaced out a few framed photos. Turning his head to the left he saw the kitchen, small just as the living room was with a small fridge and freezer combo, a gas stove, and two cabinets with plain black countertops and place for storage underneath. He saw a dark hallway that split the apartment in half and two doors near the end on opposite sides that were both closed. His quiet investigation must have made the Scotsman nervous though because finally he said, “It’s not much I know but I’ve got what I need.” He pointed down the hallway and explained, “My room is on the left and the bathroom is on the right.”

Ghost nodded quietly before he said, “It’s nice Johnny.” There was something in the way his face brightened up that brought a heat to the masked man’s face and he was thankful to have the mask to cover it. He moved towards the couch, eyes darting to the photos on the shelf as he inspected them closer. There were several family photos, a man who assumed was the brother Soap had mentioned during his rant earlier was standing next to a short blonde woman with a tiny dark haired girl standing between them. Soap’s parents were in another photo holding the same girl though she was much younger in that picture, maybe a year old. He inspected the photos of the family but was surprised to see the photogenic Soap was absent from just about all of them, save for a single one. He glanced towards the other man who was doing something in the kitchen before Ghost reached up to grab the only picture with Soap actually in it. “Hey Johnny, who’s this?” The tall man was looking down and studying the other man in the picture with him, almost feeling like he had seen him before but was unable to place him.

Soap’s eyes glanced over and noticed very quickly just what it was Ghost was talking about. His face seemed to drop before he tried to play it off and shook his head, “It’s nobody, just a friend Lt.”

Ghost gave him one of those hard stares that always seemed to carve itself into other people’s minds and asked, “You sure about that?”

The dark haired man ran a hand through his mohawk before he seemed to give in and shook his head before answering, “He’s my ex Ghost. Been meaning to get rid of the picture actually but I keep forgetting, I’m not exactly here very often.” Ghost was caught off guard with the confession, he had never expected Soap would be into men but then again who was he to judge? It didn’t change anything for either of them. Instead Ghost simply nodded and put the picture back up as Soap came over, eyes nearly glaring at the picture. The big man could see the hurt that hid behind those eyes when he thought of his ex. The betrayal of being broken up with by someone you thought you could trust never sat well with anyone. “He ended it about two months ago, right after Mexico and Hassan. Said he couldn’t take being with me anymore, it was just too much.” Ghost gave Soap a confused look before the Scotsman shrugged and elaborated, “He didn’t like that I wasn’t here very often. Not to mention my paycheck. And even when I was here, he said I was never really here.”

Ghost sighed and shook his head. It was hard for civilians to understand their life and even harder for them if you were as giving as Soap was. The man did anything he could for those he cared about, he always had, it was what drove him to tears in that parking lot earlier. He gave too much. And when a man like that, who would give anything for anyone, decided not to give you the one thing you were asking him the most for it was near impossible to comprehend. Ghost reached up, putting the photo back on the shelf and hiding a hint of jealousy in his voice as he said, “Didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

The shorter man gave a quick shrug and retorted, “You never asked Lt. no one ever did. And there was no reason to tell anyone either. Wasn’t like we were nearly getting married, we were only together for about six months anyway.” The Scot reached up for the picture, pulling it off the shelf as he turned it over and undid the back to pull the picture out. “You know he ended it right before that two week leave we had a couple days after Mexico. I spent every dime I had to take him to Bermuda and I was gonna surprise him with the tickets that night because he always wanted to go, you know. I lost every cent I spent on that vacation, dinnae even take myself I just decided to stay home the whole time.”

He gave a cynical snort and ripped the picture up before he took it over to the trashcan and let the pieces fall. Ghost watched silently before feeling a compulsion to say, “I’m sorry Johnny.”

The Scotsman waved him off with his little half smile that meant he cared but not enough to say he did and shrugged, “No worries Lt. I probably deserved it honestly, that whole thing with Graves and Hassan was pure fuckery. I couldn't trust anyone after that, especially not anyone outside of us." Soap pointed between himself and Ghost before giving another light laugh to lighten the mood and continuing, "I was hard to live with for a bit after that.”

A thought struck him then and Ghost asked, “Was that the same night you told all of us to come to the bar and we walked into you dancing on a table? Three girls stuffing bills down your fuckin pants like you were a stripper?” He saw Soap’s cheeks begin to burn hot as he held back a self-conscious smile though he nodded nonetheless. “The same night you smacked that bloke across the back with a pool stick cause he wouldn’t leave that girl alone?”

Soap chuckled a bit at that one, “Aye, the very same. Wasn’t my fault the man couldn’t take no for an answer. She wasn’t interested, I was just helping him understand that.” A snort left Ghost then, involuntarily but a snort all the same. Soap smirked then and shrugged again, “On the plus side she made it all worth it at least. A nice distraction that night you can be sure, I couldn't even feel my broken nose after she was done with me.” 

Another snort from Ghost as the big man shook his head and headed for the counter to put the medkit down that he had brought with him upstairs. “Alright Johnny, go take a shower. I’ll help you with your hands once you’re done.”

The other man nodded and turned before throwing over his shoulder, “If you want to watch TV the remote is on the shelf. Mi casa-”

Ghost cut him off, “es su casa. I know Johnny, go.” The big man waited until Soap had disappeared into the bathroom before he opened the med kit and started looking through the contents. By the time he had found what he needed the Scotsman was crossing the hall to his bedroom to find the clothes he had forgotten to bring with him. Another few minutes passed and Soap was rejoining him in the kitchen. He held a shirt in his hand with a pair of sweats on, drops of water still littering his chest as he tossed the shirt onto a counter and opened the fridge. The man was leaning over as he rifled through the fridge, water clinging to his skin where he hadn't really taken the time to dry off. He noticed several freckles there like a constellation across his back that just ached to be traced. His skin begged to be clawed and marked up, to be owned. The masked man watched him turn around, forcing his expression to remain neutral as Soap caught him staring red handed. The shorter man held up a couple bottles of water to show the Lieutenant and tossed one towards Ghost. The most he could manage was a grunt of thanks before he had to clear his throat to get the tension out and said, “Come here. Let me see your hands.”

Soap did as he was told, putting the water on the counter next to Ghost who was leaning back against it, doing his best to feign disinterest. Then he held out his hands watching as the big man went to work with surprisingly deft fingers. He caught the shorter man staring up at him more than once, blue eyes studying him and the mask. Soap’s body heat was radiating off of his half bare body, it made the big man shift uncomfortably against the counter as the heat spread up and across his face. Neither of them spoke, even Soap who couldn’t stand the silence was quiet, save for his breathing. Ghost cleared his throat again as he finished and dropped Soap’s hand, avoiding the other man’s eyes that he could feel watching him. “There,” Ghost pushed up from the counter and slipped by Soap avoiding touching him anymore as he felt the overstimulation speeding his heart beat up far more than it should have. He was beginning to feel boxed in and trapped by the Scotsman even though the man had been nearly an arms length away from him.

It was Ghost’s turn to feel the eyes on him, carving shapes into his back that caused his breath to hitch in his lungs. He could hear the smile in the other’s voice now as he spoke, “Thanks Lt. I’m gonna let you patch me up next time we’re in the field. You’re way better at it than Gaz is, man has hands like a brick I swear.” Soap watched the big man as he nodded, not saying anything before he offered, “You should go shower too you know. Not healthy to leave those sweaty clothes on this long. Is your go bag still in your truck?”

Ghost glanced over his shoulder at Soap before nodding slowly, the tension that had been suffocating him not even a moment ago was washed away by his dismissive words. His shoulders easing from the tension as he fought to keep the calm this time, “Yeah, it’s in the back seat.”

Soap grabbed Ghost’s keys off the counter then and nodded towards his bathroom, “Go shower, I’ll leave your bag by the bathroom door. My little thanks for patching me up Lt.” Ghost eyed the dark hallway for a second before he gave in and nodded. The door to the apartment closed behind Soap as the bathroom door closed behind his own back.

------------(Soap POV)------------

The go bag was easy enough to find, Ghost’s truck was meticulously clean especially in the back seat. It was obvious no one had ever sat back there before. He grabbed it, ignoring the twinge of pain in his fingers, and hurried back towards his apartment. Soap stopped in the kitchen, his mind wandering from the task he had given himself as he listened to the water run in the shower. Before he really even thought about it he dropped the bag and turned towards the stove, “He likes tea yeah? Don’t have any bourbon so tea will have to do.” He put the kettle on, letting the water heat up, and he was about to continue his earlier task of bringing the bag down the hallway when a knock sounded against the door. He furrowed his brow at the door not answering on the first knock and moving towards it slowly as another knock sounded. He looked through the peephole and blinked a couple times as if he was seeing things before he unlocked the door and a short dark haired woman pushed inside past him.

“Took you long enough John, what're you gonna do, leave your poor mother out there to freeze to death?” The woman was looking him up and down, shirtless in his kitchen with a kettle on the burner. The water had stopped just as she entered and though she had no evidence of it her dark eyes glanced about the apartment as if she felt that something was different in here. “Well, don’t I at least get a hello? I only birthed ye.”

Soap looked wide eyed down at his short mother before his strained voice asked in a high pitch, “What the hell are ye doin here mum?”

She gave him a shake of her head, “I came to see ye John. What can I no see my son now? Ye already live as far away as ye can.”

Soap was staring at the woman with a wide eyed look when he heard the bathroom door squeak open on its hinges. The light illuminated the hallway and he could see Ghost’s covered face looking down at the floor for a second before he turned with a towel wrapped around his waist and came down the hallway. The already wide eyes widened even more and he glanced towards his mother who was about to peek down the hall as well. His worlds were about to collide and he perished the thought. He was frozen in horror as Ghost stopped dead in his tracks holding a towel wrapped around his waist and his mask on his face. Staring at his mother with blinking eyes, chest bare and water dripping down that made Soap’s eyes linger a bit too long for comfort. The Scots mouth was more dry than it had been in that desert. Tattoos decorated his pale skin, and blue eyes traced the lines of water droplets across his skin. Ghost's broad chest was littered with scars, bullets and knives had marred that perfectly pale skin. The grooves of his abdomen and the dip between his pectorals would have had him salivating if it wasn't for the biggest cockblock in the world standing three feet in front of him.

It was his mother who broke the tense silence with a loud, “And who the feck ye?” Her accent was thicker than anything Ghost would have heard before, even when Soap was neck deep in Gaelic.

“Mum, you cannae just ask people that!” Soap’s own accent was thickening now, driven by his mother’s.

She scoffed loud at him and looked the big man up and down with a harsh glare, “Aye I can and I will. Who. The feck. Are ye?” Every word was pronounced with harsh syllables as internally Soap screamed at her to just shut the fuck up. Ghost looked towards him and then down to where his bag was sitting on the ground before he quietly walked over, picked it up off the ground, turned around, and headed back down the hallway without a word. Soap watched him go with horror in his eyes as his mother turned on him then, “Are ye just letting men into your apartment now John? And why the hell is he wearin a feckin mask? What kinda shite are you into!? And since when were you gay!?”

Soap let out a groan, a hand reaching up to his eyes as he very nearly started crying at the atrocities being committed here today. “Mum, listen very carefully to me right now. His name is Ghost. I work with him. We are not together. I had an accident at work and he drove me home. That’s it, ok? That’s all there is to it. I’m not gay, I swear to you I am not gay ok?”

“You’re letting a man shower in your apartment and you’re gonna try to tell me, standing there half naked, that ye aren’t doing something ye aren’t supposed to be doing?” She eyed him closely with doubt obvious in her eyes.

“Mum, nothing's happening between me and him. He’s a friend, and a good one at that. Now please leave, I'm beggin ye mum. I just saw you for an entire week, I stayed in your bloody house woman. Please go home.” Soap would have been on his knees if he thought it would have hurried her along, he was more embarrassed than he ever had been, nothing he had ever said or done could top this moment right here. She had come in at exactly the worst moment a mother could walk into her son's apartment and the worst part was that he truly wasn't even doing anything.

She glanced back down the dark hallway, Ghost had confined himself to the bathroom as he got dressed thankfully. Finally her voice dropped an octave and she said, “I was just worried about ye John. You seemed upset when you left yesterday, I was worried you might be angry at me and your da, I just wanted to check on ye.”

Soap took in a deep breath and shook his head, “I’m not mad at ye and ye don’t have to be worried mum. I’m alright I promise. And I love ye mum, more than anything else, but please for the love of Christ leave. This has already been a nightmare come true. You’re gonna freak him out and he’s my superior mum. I really can’t have him hating me.”

His mother’s lips pursed as she thought and finally she opened her arms beckoning him forward, “Ok, I’ll leave ye alone. Give me a hug John.” He wrapped her up in his arms for a second, smiling when she said, “I love ye too son.” Then she pulled away and headed for the door, “Don’t be a stranger anymore, we miss seeing ye at home.” Soap nodded and thanked God when the door finally shut behind her.

It wasn’t even a second later the squeal of the kettle snapped his attention over to it and he hurried over. He pulled it off the burner and grabbed a mug before rifling through the cabinets for the tea. He poured Ghost a cup and set it on the counter quietly waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. After a few minutes he did, his eyes searching the room for the woman who had just been there before Soap pushed the cup of tea forward and said, “She’s gone don’t worry.”

Ghost glanced down at the mug and nodded slowly before he took it, “She’s…excitable?”

Soap snorted and shook his head, “She’s a bit more than that. But, she’s my mum, what can you do, you know?” The Scot stepped around his house guest and made for the couch, taking a tired seat on one end and grabbing the remote. He flipped the tv on and glanced up as Ghost joined him sitting on the opposite side. “Thanks for not making a big deal about it. And I’m sorry she yelled at you Lt.”

Ghost turned his eyes to glance at him before shrugging, “A lot of people yell at me Johnny. I just surprised her.” He went quiet for a few seconds before he added on, “And damn did she surprise me.”

Soap couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at that, “I’ve never seen that look from you before. She was just staring at you and…God Ghost you didn’t even say anything. Ye just grabbed your bag and walked away. I thought ye were gonna pass out how stiff ye looked.” Ghost eyed him with a humorous gaze himself as Soap laughed about it, his stomach aching as he remembered the big man blinking slowly at his mother, almost looking scared to speak to her. After the day he had had not to mention the week it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath, but he needed a good laugh that wasn’t at his own expense. He was just thankful Ghost was letting him have it. His stomach ached by the time he had calmed himself down and Ghost had finished the cup of tea. It was dark outside, the one window by his TV that shined light on the plants was dark now, beads of water rolling down the pane.

Ghost looked down at his watch and muttered, “I should go. It’s getting late.”

He stood and the Scotsman was quick to follow as he shook his head, “There’s really no reason to you know? You can stay the night here. You’d have to come back tomorrow morning either way, we both get more sleep if you just stay. You can have my room, I sleep on the couch most of the time anyway. I like the sound of the TV.” Ghost glanced uncertainly at him and he could see the denial about to come out of his mouth before Soap added, “And me mum would probably kill me if she knew I was a bad host.”

Ghost sighed and finally nodded, “Fine. If that’s what you want Johnny.” The big man took his cup to the sink and set it down before washing it out. Soap had disappeared down the hall for a few moments, coming back with a blanket and pillow from his room and throwing them on the couch.

At Soap’s beckoning, Ghost followed the Scotsman down the hall to his room as he opened the door. A desk sat on the far side of the room with a couple more pictures of his family and a bed sat against the wall. The sheets looked fresh like Soap hadn’t slept in them since they had been put on, the Sergeant hadn’t been lying when he said he rarely used it. There was a short table beside the bed with a wire coming up behind it so Soap could charge his phone. It was just as plain as the rest of the apartment. It wasn’t unusual though, the team spent more time away than here, Soap’s room at the barracks had been more personal than this place was and it hadn’t even been his. The only thing that let you know it was even Soap’s place were the pictures of his family. The shorter man cleared his throat then and looked at Ghost, “I’ll leave you to it Lt. Hope you sleep well.”