Chapter Text
POV: Ghost
The sudden knock at the door startled Ghost awake, he always had been a light sleeper so it really was no surprise. Groaning he looked at the clock beside his bed, 9:23 , who the hell knocks on someone’s door at nine A.M.?
He groaned again pushing himself to his feet and pulling a black surgical mask off the dresser at the side of the room, he had found it was a much more acceptable kind of mask to wear around in civilian life, and that’s what he is now, for the moment at least, a civilian. The knock happened again and he almost tripped over Riley, who was very alert and weaving through his legs as soon as he stood up. He didn’t even bother looking out the peephole before pulling the door open, expecting a solicitor or maybe even his landlord. His payments were automatically drawn from a bank account, and considering he was never really in the flat he was a model tenant. What he didn’t expect to see was the ever-smiling face of John MacTavish, hand raised as if he were about to knock again. A duffle bag laid on the ground by his feet.
“Soap? The fuck are you doing here?” He asked tiredly.
“Good morning Lieutenant, good to see you t-” he stopped mid-sentence and stared at the ground behind Ghost’s feet, “oh my god, you actually did it.”
“Did what Soap?” He did not get enough sleep for this shit. “Why are you here? Did Price send you to finally let me back on duty?”
Soap waved his hand dismissively, “they told me it was recommended that you get a dog but I didn’t think you’d actually do it… What’s its name?” he didn’t actually give time for an answer before he said, “please tell me you’ve actually named it and you don't just call the thing ‘dog.’”
Ghost brushed off the first part of his statement, “she has a name.”
Soap finally looked at him again, “and that name is…”
“Riley.”
He looked both offended and amused when Ghost said that, “Riley? Really? Simon Riley named his dog Riley. Are you really that uncreative that you named your dog after yourself?”
Ghost scoffed slightly, “I mean, it’s a good name, easy to tell who she belongs to when they let me back on base.”
“No offense L.T. but not a lot of people even know your name, and anyway we don't even have any dogs on base, at least not since I left.”
He hadn’t actually thought about the number of people that actually know his name. In truth he hadn’t even thought much about the dog’s name, he just chose Riley because it was the first thing that popped into his head, and came up with the identification excuse later. “You know my name.”
Soap laughed slightly, “yeah I know your name but I’m also one of the only people that does. They’d give her tags as soon as she got on base anyway if she doesn’t have them already.” He really hadn’t thought about that either, really he had no experience with military dogs before he didn’t know all the protocols behind them. “I mean she’s also basically attached to you now anyway,” Soap seemed like he wanted to go more in-depth about what would happen to her once they were on base but settled on: “You seriously couldn’t have picked a better name?
“What, would you prefer I named her after you?” He countered before he even thought about it. Damn, he really needs to get back on base and out of this whole not thinking thing.
“Aw, so you do like me? I told you you’d miss me when you were gone,” Johnny smiled, leaning against the door frame like he belonged at Ghost’s flat.
Ghost smiled a little too, hidden under the mask but the corners of his eyes still crinkled slightly, “no, she’s just as irritatingly underfoot as you are.” He turned around, bumping slightly into Riley as he walked back into his flat, leaving the door open. Soap didn’t follow for a moment, “are you going to stand in my doorway or come in and tell me what you’re actually here for Johnny?”
There’s a sound of a bag dropping on the floor by the door before Soap’s footsteps fall in time behind him, “little bare in here don't you think?”
Ghost actually laughed that time, settling himself on the edge of his unmade bed, leaving the desk and another chair for Soap, “not like I actually live here. I bet yours isn't much better.”
Soap didn’t sit at all just sort of paced around the room, that wasn’t unusual for him, Ghost knew that from their time together. “I usually just stay with my sister when I’m on leave.” Riley followed his path around the room for a minute before settling on the floor beside the bed and tracking his movement with her eyes.
“Are we ever actually going to discuss what you came here for or are we just going to make small talk?” At this point he was a little fed up, Ghost wasn’t necessarily a small-talk kind of guy, he wasn’t much of a talk guy in general.
“I’m meant to bring you back to base when my leave is up, you’re finally allowed back Ghost,” Soap smiled again.
Ghost wasn’t much of a religious man but thank God , he was getting fed up with sitting in his flat all day except random grocery runs, occasional gym trips, and letting out or training Riley. Two months off base is a lot for anyone of his rank but particularly him; being just Simon Riley again hasn’t been treating him well. “When’s your leave up?”
Soap’s pacing has finally stopped directly in front of him, “my week’s up tomorrow. Price said not to contact you until today, let you pack and we’ll leave for base in the morning.”
“Fucking finally, I swore that old bastard would never let me back.”
Soap’s face softened slightly, “he’s just trying to make sure you're okay Simon. We all know you don't take care of yourself, let someone do it for you.”
The conversation paused for a long moment, Ghost didn’t know what to say in response and Soap apparently had nothing more to say on the topic so the two of them just sat looking at each other.
“You changed your mask.”
“Hm?” he tilted his head slightly, not even listening to what Soap had said.
Soap laughed, he obviously knew that Ghost hadn’t been paying attention, “your mask. Finally out of your skull phase?”
“Oh… civvies don’t really take well to the whole threatening man wandering around the shops with a skull mask thing. Few people looked like they thought I would hold hostages.” More than once he was followed by security or law enforcement, luckily he never had an actual run-in with them or he most definitely would have been arrested for the amount of weapons on his person. When he switched out the balaclava for the surgical mask he has on currently the following stopped, though people stayed weary of him.
“It looks good on you,” Soap made his way to the chair pulled out from the desk.
“I hate it, I feel like an idiot.”
“Take it off then,” he could feel Soap’s smirk as much as he could see it. He always asked Ghost to take off his mask and so far he’d only had it off around Johnny once and that was only for a few seconds. He definitely expected a joke or a snide remark not him slipping a finger through one of the ear loops of the mask and dropping it on the sheets beside him. Soap just stared at him, eyes wide in shock, then moving around his face with interest like he was cataloging every single feature.
He felt exposed, slightly scared, and very seen. He already didn’t have long sleeves or gloves on since he just woke up, scars on display, his hair was probably a mess and not just because it had been squished under a mask for days in a row, and now Johnny was just scanning his face. He just couldn’t stand the new mask for long periods of time and he went to pick it up again- “don’t. You don’t have to be afraid of showing your face to me. I know I make jokes about you being ugly but I do like seeing you.”
“It feels like you can hear my thoughts every time you look at me,” Ghost’s voice was suddenly raspy like he was forcibly pushing the words out of his mouth. He was.
“I can do that with the mask on,” Soap sounded like he was joking but they both knew it was at least a little bit true. It had always been somewhat scary how easy it was for Soap to read him. He pushed himself off the chair, crouching next to the bed so they were at eye level, “if it scares you to have me look at you then put it back on, but really Simon, I’m not judging you or anything, you know that right? It’s honestly comforting to see your face. It makes me remember that you’re a real person and not just some voice that occasionally gives me orders, I like that we’re friends Simon, it makes me happy.”
He didn’t think he could speak again so he just nodded, leaving the mask sitting on the bed next to him.
“But,” Ghost froze slightly fearing what would come out of his mouth next, “we should maybe get you an appointment with a barber, you need a haircut before we go back to base Rapunzel,” Soap laughed again, and Ghost relaxed enough to laugh with him. Soap brought a hand close to his head, “can I?” Ghost nodded again, letting Soap push the strands away from his face in a losing battle that ended up more with him just running his hands through Ghost’s hair.
Soap was right now that he thought about it, his hair was quite long. Much longer than it usually is with pale blond waves hanging over his face and ears, slightly in his eyes so he had to push them back constantly. “I’ll cut it myself thanks,” He never thought much about when to cut his hair, usually, he just cut it when he started to have to push it back before putting his mask on so it wasn’t pressed into his eyes. “Maybe I’ll take care of that ugly mop you keep on top of your head while I’m at it.”
Soap looked mildly offended about the insult to his hair, at this point it was part of his personality, “I should’ve guessed you cut your own hair, no barber would let you walk out with it that uneven.”
Ghost smiled slightly, “it’s hidden all the time anyway, it doesn’t need to be even, just out of my eyes.”
“I can see it right now.”
“Special privileges I guess Sargent.”
Soap groaned but there was a smile on his face, “God, just let me do it then, I’ll at least make it look good instead of just shaving it all off or cutting the fringe which I’m sure is what you do.”
He was right, they both knew it, “if I let you touch my hair, and I end up looking anything like you I’ll be going back to base by myself cause you’ll be dead.”
Soap laughed, “you wouldn’t kill me L.T.,” that was true, “I can pinky swear not to give you my haircut if that makes you feel any better.”
“We’re not children Soap.”
“Well then, no guarantee for you.”