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There’s a teddy in Soap’s bed; a beaten-up, old brown bear. Well-loved, if the state of the fur is any indication. Ghost lets out a choked laugh, mostly at his own expense. He wishes he was there, suddenly, wishes he was by Johnny’s side as he walked through the doorway and realised that his childhood room was waiting for him like a time capsule. Wishes he got to see the embarrassed scrunch of his face, the way the tips of his ears would flush red.
Soap has a whole second life, outside of the SAS. He’s got a mother, and a poorly-decorated bedroom, and a bear. All Ghost has is a flat that will be the same it is today as it will be the day he dies, like he was never even here at all.
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Bookmarked by ploB
11 Jul 2025