Chapter Text
Soap wasn't himself.
Ghost had realized it on a rainy Saturday, when he abruptly realized it was Saturday, and they hadn't had an excitable scot nagging them to go out to the bar the night previous. But that just opened his eyes to the previous week- or more.
Soap hadn't been himself for days, now. Weeks, almost.
Ghost didn't know the last time he'd felt a clap on his shoulder and abruptly missed it terribly. Realized he had been missing it, that he'd been tense and irate all week, and this was why.
Right, then, so that was his feelings handled. Had only taken him a week plus to figure that shit out. What about Soap, then?
What was up with Soap?
As he stood from the couch where he'd been quietly reading in the rec room, he began to wrack his mind. He didn't know the last time he'd made a joke, or had to clarify what the fuck he'd just said in heavy scottish jargon, or… he'd not been himself for a while.
Ghost wasn't someone to beat around the bush. He had a problem- Soap- and would go right to the source- Soap.
He checked the gym and didn't see him there. He wasn't in the rec room, or the cafeteria, or out on the track. He checked the computer to see if he was on one of the ranges, but no John MacTavish had signed out any equipment.
He went to his room and hammered his fist on the door, and when nothing happened, turned around, a little stymied. The fuck else could he be-
Behind him, the door clicked, and he whirled.
"Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"
The words were formal and clear, without his usual jubilant brogue. More red flags. How long had he been missing this?
"Where've you been, Johnny?" Ghost demanded.
"Right here, sir. Is there something I'm needed for?" His posture, already stiff, snapped even tighter.
"No… at ease." He'd never had to tell Johnny at ease before. Never. "Just haven't seen you all day and was worried."
"Sorry to disturb you."
Ghost stared at him in disbelief. The silence hung. Seconds… a minute… longer.
Soap MacTavish was not a man who stood in silence. In battle, barely. In a relaxed setting, a social setting? Never. He always filled a space like a flood, like light.
"The fuck is wrong with you, Johnny?"
"...sir?"
"This isn't you. So what's wrong?"
"Nothing, sir."
Ghost stared again. The quiet grew again.
"Can I come in?"
Soap stepped back, giving him room to enter, and he went in and sat.
"What are you doing, then?"
Soap blinked at him. "Is there something I should be doing?"
"Being yourself. What's going on with the bodysnatchers thing? You're…"
Soap's face finally showed some expression. A small uptilt of one corner of his mouth. A smile, but so subtle and small it looked wrong . That wasn't how Soap smiled.
"Peaceful? Not causing headaches? Being a good soldier?"
Ghost's stomach dropped. "What the fuck are you on about?"
"I just don't think it's good for the team for me to be so loud and… and to take up so much space. Does that make sense?" Soap asked, politely and calmly as if they were talking about the weather. Ghost felt like the world was sinking.
"Not a fucking bit. No, Soap- what- what made this- why?"
"I don't think I was good for the team. Have you had a productive week?"
Holy fuck. He was doing it on purpose. He was- this was-
"No. No. No." Ghost took him by the elbow and began marching them to the door. "Come on. We're gonna have lunch together. And you're gonna be your usual self."
He was suddenly empty handed, and Soap was standing there, staring at him, emotion properly again- but it wasn't that awful, ironic smile. It was a look of fury.
"What the fuck is wrong with you , then?" he snapped.
"What?"
"You want me to shut up and behave, and then that's no good, either? Fuck off, Ghost, I'm not going to be your fucking- two-faced, can't decide- I can't be both," he roared.
Well, he'd found the real Soap, at least.
"What are you talking about?!" he cried.
" You told me to quit being so fucking loud. You told me for such a little guy, I take up so fucking much space. You told me," Soap shouted, jabbing a finger into Ghost's chest, and he drew in a breath, visibly swelling a little, about to demand him start making some fucking sense when he realized Soap was crying.
Soap was crying.
Soap was crying?
All the air rushed out of Ghost at once.
Johnny's cheeks were wet, lashes stuck together, eyes red. He seemed to see Ghost deflating and stepped back- Ghost reached for him, he barely even realized he was- and shook his head furiously, scattering hot tears.
"Don't you fucking- don't act like it's not true. Everyone knows it. Price and Gaz, they say it, but- but they smile like they don't care, and you said it and you were so angry ," Johnny said roughly, voice dropping to a broken whisper as more tears ran down his face.
Ghost tried to remember. Maybe, yeah, a week and a bit ago, on the heli back from their last mission that had failed and left them without leads, idle all week since…
"Let's just wrap this up and get out, I'm bloody tired."
"Tired? Why's that, Lt? Antsy having to share a kip with us?"
Ghost was watching Soap skitter and strafe from building to building, making his way toward where they believed a cell was holed up. It wasn't the main target, but it should give them another inch toward him, a terrorist bastard who'd been targeting shopping malls.
"You snore like a chainsaw."
"I do not, I snore like a butterfly," Soap sniffed. "I don't get why people have a hard time sleeping."
"Well-"
"I mean, it's so easy, I can do it with my eyes closed," Soap finished. The way he paused made it clear it was a joke, but it took Ghost a moment to try and think- with his eyes closed? That- oh, oh!
"You-"
The building in front of Soap- the door flew open, someone saw him. Shouting.
An explosion.
Get out. Get out. They had to get out. Ghost maintained his sniper's nest as long as he could before following Soap out, Price on coms angrily demanding why no one saw the hostiles, Gaz telling them to hurry up and meeting them with a stolen vehicle, shoving Soap in before Ghost climbed in behind him.
On the heli, after they talked and concluded they were leaving empty handed, Soap had bumped knees with Ghost.
"Sorry I kept ye up all night, Lt," he said with a grin. "Dinnae ken ye need yer beauty sleep so bad-"
"Do you ever shut up?! Even in your bloody sleep, you're so fucking loud- we all fucking know you're here, you don't have to make yourself so fucking big all the time, it's like- like I can't focus, I can't even breathe, you don't leave any space for me to do my fucking job," Ghost snarled, suddenly furious, lashing out, feeling oddly wounded and vulnerable and reacting the best way he knew how- anger.
Soap looked at him with his mouth open, brows up, and he couldn't stand to see him, so he twisted to put ad much of his back to him as he could, folded to put his head in his hands.
"Johnny, I didn't mean… I'm sorry. I was just upset with the mission, and tired-"
"Because I distracted you, so the mission got fucked, and I kept you awake, and- you were right, Lt, I'm too fucking much and too fucking loud and I just want to do better. Can you at least leave me to that?" Soap's voice was almost pleading.
"No, Soap. I didn't mean it. I was…"
Soap stared, face becoming incredulous, and then dismayed. Like he'd expected this and was disappointed.
"You can't even… not even this. Get the fuck out, Ghost. Leave me alone," Johnny said, defeated.
"Please come have a cuppa with me- or hot chocolate, I know you hate tea. We need to figure this out. We need you around, Soap."
"No one else has showed up at my door. I think ye all have been glad I'm quiet and out of sight. Some fecking peace and quiet."
"We're the bloody 141, Johnny, none of us are here for fucking peace and quiet," Ghost snorted. "Please."
"Why?"
"Because…"
There it was again, like running into a wall. He couldn't say it.
Soap snorted and shook his head again, taking another step back.
"Go away," he said simply. "Just go."
"If I don't see you at dinner tonight, I'm coming here and eating in your bed."
Johnny didn't react, and Ghost walked out, shamefaced, but unwilling to force his presence on him without consent.
Fuck.
Dinner came. Soap showed up, and Ghost had a spot beside him, which he grimly, silently took.
Soap didn't speak. He just kept his eyes down and began to eat mechanialy, unfeelingly.
Ghost pushed the side of his leg against Johnny's.
He didn't move away.
But he didn't push back against Ghost, either.
When dinner was over, he got up, put his tray where it belonged, and left without a word, having not spoken the entire meal. Ghost watched him go forlornly.
It wasn't until later that he was considering going to the gym for a late-night lift that he noticed blood on his jeans, and made the connection of where it could come from, and then was at Johnny's door, hammering on it again.
The Soap that opened the door was dim-eyed and slouching, like he'd been woke up.
"Lieutenant."
Ghost put a hand on his chest and pushed him back, into the room, and Johnny's eyes went wide as he staggered back.
Ghost followed him and slammed the door shut behind himself, shoving him again, and again, until he sat heavily on the bed.
"Th feck -"
Ghost reached up and yanked his balaclava off, and Soap shut up, eyes going wide. He bit one of his own fingertips, pulling the glove off, and reached down to grab Soap's leg.
Outside of his thigh.
Soap's eyes went wider and he jerked away, crab-crawling gracelessly backwards, trying to get away.
Ghost let him. He looked down at his hand.
Red. Faint, barely a smudge, but it was tacky and when he touched his mouth to it, the taste of metal exploded over his tongue. He hadn't been able to see it- Soap's joggers were black.
"You're hurt."
"Go away," Soap whispered. "Please just go."
"When did you get hurt? Why didn't you go to medical?"
"Please, please, go."
"Is this the first time?"
Soap stared, mute, proper mute, Ghost could see he wasn't suppressing his words this time. He had nothing. Stunned.
"Johnny. Is this the first time?"
"N…no."
"How did you even enlist, with this?" he wondered softly, turning to sit on the bed, sparing Johnny from his sight. He looked down at his own mask in his hands, knowing how hard it was to speak when someone was seeing you, really seeing you.
And it worked. "I… I never really got caught, and when I did, I convinced people to cover it up for me. Got clean. Stayed clean."
"How?"
"Paranoid. Scared of getting caught again, realized I was gonnae lose my career, everything. The… the fear was bigger than the need."
"Okay. So why now?"
"I… I don't know, I just… everything stopped being worth it."
"Being here, your career?"
"Yeah."
"Because you felt like you couldn't be you," Ghost concluded. "Because I took that away from you."
"I… I dinnae ken."
"You do, though. That's what changed."
"Yeah, but we can't erase that."
Ghost shook his head, still looking down at the mask. "I meant what I said this morning, Johnny. I didn't mean it."
"But you did."
"I was angry, and tired."
"And honest." Soap's voice had gotten thick again. Ghost was sure he was crying.
"No. I…"
It was only fair. He'd bared Soap here, forcefully, and Soap had complied, opening up. It was only fair.
"I wasn't honest, I was defensive. Scared."
"What?"
"I let myself be distracted and you almost got killed. My fault. And the whole mission went tits-up. My fault. And I couldn't sleep, because again, I was distracted by you ."
"What the fuck does any of that even mean-"
"I got too close and fucked up and panicked, okay?!"
He dropped his head to his hands, gripping his hair hard, grimacing at the floor.
There was a light touch on his wrist.
"Hey, Si. It's okay."
"You shouldn't be the one comforting me, I'm not the one bleeding."
Soap only made a gently disagreeing hum and patted his shoulder. "I like to anyway. Ye really are a good yun, Lt."
"Yeah? Well, you too."
Another hum.
"I'm serious, Johnny. You're a good man. All of you, big and loud ad you are, that's all part of what's good about you."
"Mhmm."
Ghost twisted to finally look at him. "Come have a smoke with me."
Soap blinked at him. His eyes were red rimmed but he seemed to have settled, not quite into the silent depression that had resonated out of him like a smoke stick, but a calmer silence. Still sad, but collected.
"You… wannae have a smoke?"
"Yeah. You still bleeding?"
Soap grimaced, glanced away. "...probably. Keeps scabbing to me trousers and then ripping open."
"Alright, bandage it first, then. I'll wait here." Ghost tried to meet his level of calm, reclining back on the bed, hands behind his head.
Soap stared at him a moment, eyes intent. Ghost wasn't as good at reading people, couldn't place the intensity of his gaze. Searching, almost. He didn't let himself wonder what Soap was looking for, didn't know if he found it when he finally stood and retrieved some new trousers and briefs from a drawer and retreated to the bathroom.
Ghost considered his next moves as he waited. Didn't have to wait long before the door opened again.
"Good?" he asked Soap, tilting his head and arching his neck back to look at him upside-down. There it was again, the searching look, before he got a nod.
Still damn quiet. Still not himself. That was okay. At least he wasn't faking it. Ghost pushed himself up, led the way out, out, outside, past the overhang where he liked to smoke, past buildings until he was out past the running track, to the woods. Perfect. He pulled out a cigarette for himself, offered the pack to Johnny, who took one as well.
He lit his own and offered the flame to Johnny, who cupped his hands around Ghost's light to draw himself an ember.
Both of them exhaled long.
"Go on, then."
Johnny looked questioningly at him.
"Go on. Be you. Do it."
"Do… what?"
"Give us a shout. A big one."
"What? Why?"
"You're loud. I like you loud. I like you you ."
Soap stared at him, so Simon lowered his cigarette, drew a deep breath, and hollered hard, just a wordless shout, into the trees.
Then he turned to Soap and grinned. "Your turn."
Soap shook his head, so Ghost shouted again, and punched him in the shoulder.
The scot had started to grin, and finally turned to the woods and opened his mouth, bellowing.
Ghost laughed. "Go again."
Soap whooped again, laughed, and then again. Ghost, even though he wasn't loud by nature, not like Soap, howled with him, drinking in the grin Soap reflected back at him, until they were both gasping for breath and cackling, leaning against each other.
"There he is," Ghost rumbled, gazing at the wide smile, the bright gray-blue eyes like tempered steel, the life, the energy. "Alright, Johnny?"
"Aye, been better."
"Getting there, though."
"Yeah. Yeah, think so."
Simon pulled a last drag from his mostly forgotten cigarette and blew smoke at the sky.
"What do we do now? I mean… about… me."
He looked down at his Sargent, who appeared a little uncertain, hints of the fear and pain in his eyes again.
"I want you to want this more than you want that," he said, not clarifying that , but the flick of his eyes down to the thigh he'd found bloody said what he meant.
To his confusion, Soap blushed. "You want me to want… what?"
"This. Life. Your career. The 141." With each thing Simon listed, he watched Soap and saw that it wasn't what he'd expected. Wasn't what he was looking for, like what he'd been searching for when he'd been looking at Simon laid out in his quarters.
What was he looking for?
"Yeah."
"What else is it?" Simon asked, direct and to the point. "You were hoping I'd say something else, I know you were."
"Nae. It's nothing."
"It's not. Tell me."
"Haven't you dragged enough of me out today?" Soap said tiredly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm gonna quit and I'm gonna go back to work."
"No," Ghost said, stepping closer. Soap looked up at him with wide eyes as he reached for him- and lightly took his wrist, lifting his hand and plucking the cigarette from his fingers, where it had shrunk enough that the cinder was almost to his skin. Surely burning him. "You're already doing it again."
"Am no."
"What is it you hoped I wanted you to want? C'mon, Johnny, this is already hard and confusing."
"Can we just go back?"
"Back on base?" Ghost wondered. "Or back to before?"
"Yes."
"I don't think we can."
Soap closed his eyes, and Ghost watched everything he'd helped him rebuild start to crumble. He was losing him again.
"Ye ken what I want? I want you to not treat me differently because of this."
"I can't," Ghost admitted, solemn. "I can't just forget this, I can't un-learn what I've learned, Johnny. I'm sorry. I'm going to try, but I'm always going to know- and I'll try not to be overbearing, I won't stop trusting you, but I'll check in more, be here, not say stupid fucking shite like don't be your loud self . Is that okay?"
"It has to be," Soap whispered. Ghost was still holding his wrist, and brought his other hand up, gently folding Soap's hand closed and bringing his head down to just rest his face, his mouth on his knuckles, a gesture of trust and promise and apology-
And his eyes flicked up to Johnny's, and saw that he was still searching, and suddenly realized.
Oh.
He wasn't looking for trust or promise or apology- or maybe it was, all of those things, because those were aspects of-
Oh, oh , Ghost was a fucking idiot, he knew- why Price and Gaz shit on Soap and it never bothered him, why others could call him loud and be angry with him, but it didn't do this, it had never hit him so hard as Ghost, because Ghost-
Oh.
Holding eye contact, he tested his theory. He parted his lips, resting and honoring turning to something else. He opened them just a little, and closed them, pressing firmly against the rough ridge of his knuckles.
A kiss.
And Johnny's eyes wailed the truth louder than either of them could scream.
"Johnny?" he whispered.
And the hand was yanked out of both of his, almost clipping him in the face with the rush, Johnny took a big step back.
"Lieutenant- I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Do you love me?" Ghost asked him.
Soap stared at him, aghast. So he asked again.
"Do you love me?"
"That's- christalive, ah mean- ah'd kiss ye, but ah dinnae ken bout-"
That was enough for Ghost. He caught him again- found you, Johnny- and sealed their lips together.
Soap breathed in sharply though his nose, so close Ghost could hear it, feel it, and then began kissing him back. His hands found Ghost's shoulders, wrapping over and around to cup his neck, his jaw. Ghost gripped his hips and sighed into his mouth, lips working, building heat between them for as long as he could stand.
He didn't have to chase Johnny any more. He didn't have to go find him, fetch him, drag him out. This time, Johnny chased him , swaying forward to prolong the kiss a moment longer.
"I'm so fucking thick," Ghost mumbled into his hair, snorting at his own stupidity. "Fuckssake. Took me long enough, hm?"
"I'm not that obvious," Soap argued, and Ghost watched his mouth as he spoke, had to swallow because his lips were red and swollen. He'd done that to him.
"You bloody are. Every fucking touch, every joke, nickname and- sitting beside me, always bloody smiling at me like you're happy to see me-"
"I can be happy to see you," Soap defended.
"Not that happy. Not unless you love me."
"Mm. Kiss me again, while I think on it?"
Ghost did, for another minute or so of bliss.
"Right. We were… headed back."
"For what? Are you gonna tell everyone?"
"About your little problem? No. You're going to stop, because your career and your life depends on it. I'm gonna make you want this so bad you won't even think about that. You'll be terrified to do it. I'll be so good to you, I swear to christ," Ghost murmured, voice low with insinuations, still close enough to Soap to feel his voice vibrating through both of them. "Or did you mean about us? I'm not telling anyone. I'm not the loud one."
Soap snorted and shivered, looking up at him with hazy eyes.
"Yer a menace, Ghost. But I can agree to those terms. But how exactly do you plan to get back?" He touched Ghost's face again, and he realized. He had come out here without a mask on. "Do ye want me to go get you one and bring it back?"
"No. Not bloody letting you out of my sight for a week, you've got a lot of chatter to make up for, and I've got to earn that love."
"Ye already have," Soap said soothingly, patting him on the chest. "We'll just be quick, then."
Ghost let Soap hustle and sneak him through the halls, like they were young runaways, chucking at his dramatic antics as he even once shoved Ghost in an empty lecture room and pinned him against the wall with a finger on his lips as someone passed in the halls. They finally got back to Soap's room, where Ghost picked up his mask- he couldn't believe he'd just left it here, left without it. Couldn't believe just a bit ago he'd caught Johnny cutting himself. Couldn't believe he'd let him stay, not told anyone.
Couldn't believe Johnny loved him.
"Hey, I ken I'm suppostae be the one with the fucked up head right now, but… are you okay? This is a lot. Sorry to spring all this on you… dinnae ken what's worse, finding out the whole blood thing, or the love thing," he said nervously, and Ghost realized once again, he'd been a dumbass.
"I love you too, obviously," he said, a little sharper than he'd intended, but Soap just beamed at him.
"You don't have to-"
"I do."
He was kissed again, and this time, there was a convenient soft, large surface just beside them, so he crashed down onto it and dragged Johnny down with him.
They didn't fuck- the moment Simon touched his leg and felt him tense, so subtle anyone else would've missed it, he backed off, pulling back and sitting up. Johnny dropped his face into the pillow, groaning.
"Yer killing me, Si," he grumbled. Ghost patted his shoulder lightly.
"Get clean."
"I don't want to get clean, I want to get filthy- want you to make me filthy," he protested. Simon laid down beside him, and Soap turned his head to meet his gaze.
"I really want you to get clean," he told Johnny seriously.
Johnny leaned forward to bump their foreheads together. "Am gonnae do my best."
"And if you feel like you can't, yknow what I'd like you to do?"
"Hm?"
" Tell me . Talk my ear off. Shout, holler. I'll take you out to the bar, or have a hot shower with you, or fuck you till you can't think. And… maybe you ought to see the shrink here on base."
Johnny had softened at each of Simon's suggestions, but tensed at the last one.
"If anyone but you finds out, though, I'll be discharged."
"Do you think any of the 141 can pass a psych eval? Maybe Gaz, but that’s it. You won’t get discharged, I'm not gonna let that happen, and she wouldn't do that. She's good. Knows giving someone the boot doesn't make them better."
Johnny blinked in surprise, tilted his head a little. "You've talked to the shrink?"
"Sure. Do all the time. Why?"
Johnny started to chuckle, shaking his head, reaching out to rest his hand on Ghost's hip.
"Jest… yer so silent and stoic. Didn't think ye wanted help, or tae show weakness."
"I struggle with that- obviously, that's why I yelled at you in the first place, I thought I fucked up and almost got you killed cos I was so stupid fucking in love and all that shite, but I'm getting better. Talking to you now, see?"
"Yeah."
Simon opened his arms. "C'mon, then, I see you want to. Damn greedy bastard." Soap happily snuggled in, tucking himself close as he could, tucking his face against his collar.
"Thanks, Si."
"We'll get your head right again, Johnny. You're not alone with this. I got you."