Chapter Text
Soap could barely concentrate over the sound of static in his ears. Another one. He’d been rejected again. He had tried so hard to be good this time, had followed every order, every humiliating command, and where did it get him? Another CO dumping him, citing he ‘no longer had need’ of a service dog. Ever since losing his leg to an IED, Soap had been desperate to remain in the military. And since a disabled hybrid has no use as a sniffer dog, he’d seen no other choice but to sign up as an emotional service dog. He pushed himself hard through training, but it finally paid off when he graduated the fastest of any other hybrid in the program. Quickly he was assigned to a high ranking officer, bursting with potential, only to be relieved merely 4 months later. The officer couldn’t handle him. He was too loud, too excitable. It didn't matter that he did his job with flawless efficiency, “No one wants a dog like you.” had been the final verdict.
So, 2 years later, here Soap stood, once again, tears stinging in his eyes and the realization that he had failed. He had done everything his handler asked of him, tried so hard to stay quiet and obedient, but it still wasn’t enough. Soap spent the next few days in a haze, trainers at the K9 facility had taken him back to “his” pen with nothing more than a sigh of disappointment. Time passed sluggishly, and all Soap could think was that this was the end. They’re going to discharge me. I’ve finally outlived my usefulness.
He could barely eat, barely even get out of his bed, because that would require the effort of putting his prosthetic back on. What was the point? It seemed that there was no one left in the military willing to take on a defective mutt.
So it came as a surprise when a trainer woke Soap one day, harness in hand.
“You’ve got a new assignment, Soap, a Lieutenant Riley.”
For the first time in days, Soap’s ears picked up a little. “Really?” He couldn’t even try to control the slow movement of his tail. “I’m getting another chance?”
“Yup, so get up Soap. I don’t ever want to have to see you back here again.”
Another chance! No, Soap sobered. His last chance.
Soap tamped down on any and every emotion that tried to rise within him on the way to the new base where he would be stationed. It would be no good to get there too excited and immediately put off his new handler. No. He would be good. He would be the best, most obedient service dog this unit had ever seen. Stealing his resolve, Soap forced his tail to be still as the car came to a stop. One deep breath, and he hopped out of the car, only to come face to face with… a skeleton?
No, Soap almost chuckled but caught himself in time. It was just a man in a skull mask. A very huge man, Soap noted. This must be his new handler.
“Lieutenant Riley, sir?”
“Just Ghost will do.” Came a deep Manchester accent that Soap couldn’t help but fall for, even if just a little bit.
“John MacTavish?” A gruff voice came from the side, where Soap noticed there were two other men standing as well. One in a baseball cap, and the other with a bucket hat. Was headwear a requirement in this squad?
“I actually prefer Soap, sir.”
“Well, then, Soap.” Ghost spoke up, “Welcome to the 141.”