Friendly Neighborhood Soap

by Dangerous_Turnip

Summary:

You have lived in the same apartment building on the same floor as Soap for years, and had become fast friends with him and Task Force 141. Johnny tried to tell you that your partner wasn't a good person. But you didn't listen. And now that you are single, you and Johnny become even closer friends. Very close.

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Work in progress - No update schedule

Expect random edits to fix grammar or spelling, or if i just outright hate something.

Notes:

Very first time making an attempt at writing. I'll probably get something wrong, but in the mean time ENJOY!

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I played the OG Modern Warfare, MWII, and MWIII. Haven't played the reboot yet, but have seen some of the gameplay of the newest MW and MWII. So I'm not going in completely blind, but I may sorta mix some of the OG with the newbies.

As for spoilers for the newest mw3, and because of the OG series - Fuck. Canon.

Chapter 1: Trash

Johnny was right.

 

Words that you wouldn't dare utter within ten klicks of the Scotsman with the mohawk.  Not unless you wanted him to gloat for all eternity.  And you know that he would.  But damnit, you hated that he was.  You and your now ex had been dating almost 2 years.  They were supposed to move in next month when their lease ended.  They had already started moving a few of their things in.  Clothes and knick knacks mostly.  And now as you stand there looking around, every single thing that belonged to your ex is almost a slap in the face.  Everything thrown out the proverbial window with a few pictures sent from an anonymous snap.  Pictures proving Johnny right.  That your ex was cheating on you.

 

Tearing a garbage bag off the roll and shaking it open, you make a round through your apartment, tossing everything that either belonged to them or that was gifted to you by them.  Everything that went into the trash almost became a terrible mantra.

 

Johnny was right.  Johnny was right.  Oh look, another Johnny was right.  What's this?  A Johnny was right?  Oh wow.  Another Johnny.  Was.  Fucking.  Right.  ARRRRRRGH!

 

Once that bag was full, you tie it off and grab another to make a new pass through items strewn around the place. By the time you are done filling 2 more bags to the brim, you half wonder if any of them will make it to the dumpster before they bust at the seams.  Guess there is only one way to find out.  You make the trip to the dumpster to drop off the  bags in front of front of it, hearing sounds of something breaking as you do.  You then take your phone out of your bra, snapping a picture and sending it along with a text to your newly gained ex to inform them of where they can find their items and letting them know they are officially kicked out and banned from your apartment.

 

You shove your phone back into one of your bra cups, silently cursing at women's fashion yet again for not having pockets to shove anything into.  A conspiracy to make women have to carry around a purse to make up for lack of pockets, you chuckle to yourself.

 

Only you stop chuckling as you reach into your other bra cup and find a void  where your keys and attached keycard to enter the building should be.

 

Uh oh.

You make your way back to the dumpster quickly, looking around on the ground and moving the bags, shaking them in hopes of hearing a familiar jingling of keys only to be met with the sounds of the previous broken objects.

 

Oh no.

 

You tear into the bags and start carefully searching them, still holding out hope and keeping your ears peeled to try to hear movement of keys on your lanyard.

 

Ah shit.

 

Mentally kicking yourself in the ass, you realize you most likely forgot them on the hook by the door since you were far too angry and in the moment to grab them on your way out.

 

Fuck!

 

As you sulk your way back to the front door of the building you pull your phone back out and do a quick contact search before hitting the call button.  Hopefully your neighbor was home.  And awake.  And you weren't bothering them.

 

After it rings a few times and just about rolls over to voice mail the call is answered.  A moment or two of rustling and a dropping of the phone you finally hear a very quiet and tired " 'lo? "  from the other end.   I woke the poor bastard… shit.

 

"Hey Bubbles, I'm so sorry to bug you, but I'm a dumbass and forgot my keys.  Are you home?  Could you pretty please buzz me in and meet me at my door with my spare key?"  Bubbles.  Probably your favorite nickname for him after finding out his call sign was Soap.

 

You've lived next to Soap for 3 years now.  He was the first to greet you as you were lugging boxes down the hall and into your apartment.  And being ever the gentleman, decided that you moving your things by yourself was just unacceptable.  Not that he lacked your ability in any way, he just thought you looked like you could use some help

 

" s'not right though, and ye don't have a choice in the matter."   He had said with that devilish grin of his while taking a stack of boxes off the moving truck and carrying them as if they weighed nothing.

 

It's not like this is the first time this has ever happened.  And it's definitely not like it would be the last.  You are just happy that at some point you had exchanged keys with MacTavish.  He asked if you could keep an eye on his place whenever he was gone for extended periods of time, and you asked to keep a spare around for occasions such as this.

 

"Aye, I'm home.  y're lucky I like ye, hen.  See ye in a few."

"Thanks, handsome."

 

---

 

After being buzzed in and making a dash to the elevator to head up to your floor, the doors open and you see a giant figure standing in front of your apartment.  Barefoot, with some gym shorts on and a ragged looking hoodie that has seen better days pulled up over his head to block out some of the light.  You feel even more guilty for waking him now.

 

I'm such a dumbshit .

 

Hurriedly you approach him, smiling up at him when you get close.

 

"Hey Johnny.  Again, a billion times thank you for saving my ass."

 

"Ah, it's fine.  'sides it won't be long and ye'll have that partner of yours all moved in and won't need me, aye?"  He turns away from you long enough to unlock your door, opening it slightly and moving out of your way.  

 

Right.  Johnny doesn't know we broke up yet.  I'll get around to it.  Eventually.  After he gets some sleep.

 

"Don't be too crushed about it Bubbles, I'll still have plenty of opportunities to fuck up and come crawling back to you.  Anyway thanks again hon, I owe you one."

 

You move forward and open your door wider to step through.  Before you can take another step, Johnny quickly grabs you around the waist to pull you towards himself, a quiet yelp leaving you while he holds you protectively.

 

"Hang on, have ye bein' robbed?  Place looks a bit tossed and picked over."  

 

Well… shit.

 

"No no, just… got rid of some things!"  You laugh awkwardly as you grab his hand and gently pry his arm from around your body, inching your way out of his grasp to make your way back into your apartment.  Instead he grabs your hand to hold onto it a little tighter while shifting himself so he leads the way inside to have a quick look-see and determine that things actually are safe.  "Can't be too cautious lass.  Guess I won' have to look after ye once tha' partner of yours  moves in.  

 

Fuck it.  Gonna just rip the bandaid off.

 

"Actually things have changed and they won't be moving in, so… looks like you are stuck with me for a little longer."  You shrug and try to give a positive smile about the situation, but it just comes off as sad and a little miserable.

 

Soap frowns and takes a step closer to you when he sees your face.  "Ye wanna talk abou' it?"

 

You cross your arms over your stomach and give him a shrug, trying to be nonchalant about the situation.  "Not really.  Not right now anyway."

 

He tilts his head as if he is trying to get a better look at you, examining your emotions before putting both hands in the pocket of his hoodie and sighing.  "Ye know you can always talk to me, righ'?"

 

"I do.  Just… right now I am just feeling super guilty for waking you up to come and save me from my own stupidity.  So please, go get crawled back into bed before I have to take you down and put you there myself." 

 

"Kinda likin' tha idea of you puttin' me to bed, actually."  He says with a grin.  Damn that grin.  That cute, devilish, cocky grin.  And those bright piercing blue eyes staring down at you.  Pretty eyes.

 

"It won't be pleasant if I'm kicking you ass while doing it Johnny."  You smirk.  As if you could take him.  He was damn near twice your size and could snap you like a twig without putting hardly any effort into it.  You lightly take him by the shoulder and guide him out back into the hallway and off towards his own apartment.  

 

"Tha's what you think.  Alright alright I'm goin'."  He stops and turns long enough to bend down a bit and grabbing you into a bear hug.  You wrap an arm around his waist to do the same.   "Thanks again, Johnny.  What would I do without you?"

 

"ye'd have ta find some other poor bastard come save your ass when you lock yourself out." He laughs quietly.  

 

Yeah.  He's right.  Again.  Fuck. 

 

Chapter 2: Movie Night

Summary:

You get invited to hang out with the boys.

Notes:

Hope you are enjoying so far! Here's another chapter.

6 Weeks Later

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You were elbow deep in your bathtub and working on some stubborn soap scum and rust stains when your phone dings.

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🧼:  Movie night at my place, see you at 18:00!

---

You stare at your phone for a minute, sighing as you try to figure out what you are going to text back to Johnny.  You hadn't felt like leaving your apartment beyond what was absolutely necessary.  Not even to go down the hall to Johnny's.  It didn't help that your ex has parked outside on a few occasions and waited to essentially ambush you to beg forgiveness and to still move in.  Forgiveness won't be happening, and you would die before letting them still move in.

 

Before you can answer, a text from Gaz comes through.  It's only then that you notice you have been messaged in the group chat.

 

---

Gazatron:  Hell yeah!  You finally coming over too little miss ‘too busy’?

---

Oh Gaz.  You smile a bit as you remember how you met him and the rest of Task Force 141.  Johnny was having a boy's night at his apartment and you ended up in the elevator with them.  Just about scared the life out of you standing next to Ghost.  Price had nodded at you politely.  Gaz shook your hand and introduced himself and the others and talked your ear off on the very short ride and walk to your apartment.  You saw them every now and then when Johnny was on leave and he had everyone over.  They did try to rotate a bit and change where they all met up.  You don't exactly remember how you were brought into the mix.  As a thank you for being invited you had decided to cook for them and then they all just latched onto you and didn't want to let you go.  Even Ghost in his own way.

 

And Gaz wasn't wrong.  You hadn't been over to hang out with them in a while.  Mostly because of your ex.  You tried to include them but they did nothing but bitch and complain the whole time.  Then you stopped including them and they bitched and complained about not spending enough time with them.  But god forbid you felt any sort of way about them hanging out with their friends and either not being included, or being ignored all night.  You had just stopped trying at some point to keep the peace.

 

But now you were free to do whatever the hell you wanted.  And you were still feeling a bit down, and didn't want to rain on their fun.

 

---

You:  Not tonight… Rain check?

 

👻:  We voted.  No choice.  You'll be there.

 

You:  But I won't, cause I'm staying in my own apartment sooo…

 

🧼:  I have a key to your place.  We'll drag you out.

 

💰:  Don't fight it, love.

You:  Ugggggh… hate all of you.  I'm not cooking.  

 

Gazatron:  We're stuck with whatever Soap makes again?  Maybe I should give a rain check…

 

💰:  No rain checks.  Everyone will be there at 18:00 sharpish.  That's an order.

 

👻: Copy

 

Gazatron: Yes sir

 

You:  You're not my supervisor!

 

🧼: 🤣

---

 

With a groan you stand up and stretch your back.  You suppose that since you are now going to have to spend a few hours with the guys you should make yourself at least somewhat presentable.  You have a couple hours before you have to be there anyway.  Though the thought of going there just as you are, covered in sweat and grossness is sounding like a better idea.  Make them all regret inviting you and then making your stinky ass hang with them for a bit.

Instead you drag your feet and head off into your closet to find some clean clothes, then trudge back into the bathroom to scrub down.  When you finally get the water to a decent temperature and.get under it, it's surprising what it can do for your mood.  Just standing there already makes you feel a bit more human instead of the sad goblin you have morphed into the last few weeks.

 

10 minutes later, squeaky clean and a little body hair lighter, you slip into your underthings before pulling on a pair of leggings and slipping into a baggy shirt.  There.  Presentable.

 

Even though you said you weren't going to cook, you decide to see what you have on hand to maybe whip up a dessert.   Something sweet and chocolaty to perhaps please the men and a sad attempt to make up for your long absence.

 

---

17:59 you and your dessert and head out the door to walk down the hallway to Soap's apartment.  As you shut your door the elevator dings and out steps Price, Gaz, and Ghost.  Gaz yells and runs at you, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you up to spin you around a few times.  "Ha ha!  I knew you'd make it, it's so good to see you finally!"

 

"Unhand me, fiend!"  You laugh out, hanging onto the dessert for dear life.  The door to Johnny's apartment swings open just as Gaz plants you back onto your feet, planting a quick kiss on your forehead before heading inside.  Price gives you a pat on the shoulder with a polite smile and a head nod, and Ghost just nods at you.  You nod back at the man of few words  and wait for him to go inside before you bring up the rear.  Johnny gives you that damn grin of his while he looks down at you.  "Good ta see ye, lass."  He gives your shoulder a squeeze before you pull back and hold up the bowl.  "Dessert.  Luckily didn't drop it or we'd have to eat it off of Gaz."

 

"What are we eating off me?"  Kyle perks up, confused but also intrigued.

 

"Nothing.  Thank god."  Price mumbles as he slides up next to you as you open the fridge, looking over the beverage selection before grabbing something and stepping away.  You find a spot for your bowl and stop a moment when you see at the very bottom of the fridge your favorite thing to drink.  Smiling a bit you grab it and shut the door, looking it over.  It's not expired.  Did he have some left over from last time or did he pick this up recently in hopes of you coming over?  Either way, you find it endearing.  It's definitely never something your ex did.  They always had themself to look out for.  

 

You move off into the corner of the kitchen, mainly to observe, but also to make sure you aren't in anyone's way as we all stay in the kitchen area.  Johnny catches your eye for a moment and you hold the drink up high enough for him to see, letting him know you found it.  He tilts his chin up in acknowledgement, then gives you a wink.  "Alrigh' fellas, since Gaz has decided my cooking is shite, and we're not goin' to make hen here cook cause that'd be a bit rude, what're we thinkin' abou' fer food?"

 

Gaz raises his hand as he says "Pizza! I vote pizza!"

 

Ghost stands in the opposite corner of the kitchen from you, arms crossed over his chest as he huffs, "Gaz always votes pizza.  Chinese."

 

Price gives a nod "Chinese sounds about right."

 

"I could do Chinese.  Wha' abou' ye, lass?  What're ye thinkin?"  Soap stares at you, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

 

You contemplate for a moment, "Welllllll… how about you boys order whatever you want, and Kyle and I can order a pizza and share?"

 

Gaz comes up beside you and puts his arm around your shoulders, squeezing a bit.  "I knew I liked you."

 

"Figured I could be your wingman this time around." You smile up at him a little and pat him on the head.  He lets go of you before fishing his phone out of his pocket and finding the app to order in.  "You want what you always order on your half, yeah?"

 

You feel a slight tug in your chest.  Kyle too?  Remembering what you like for your pizza?  What? You damn near get a little misty eyed.  "With some cheesy breadsticks too, please.  And how in the hell  do you remember what I always order?"

 

"Oh, I have it saved from last time.  See?"  He shoves his phone into your face to show you that he already has your half customized just the way you like it.  

 

"Ahhhh, that makes sense.  Eh, you're still one of my favorites."  You pat him on the head again like a good boy, making him damn near vibrate with giddyness.  He's so funny.  Acts like a little kid sometimes, just aiming to please and make everyone as happy as possible.

 

"Though' I was your favorite." Ghost pipes up a bit, his eyes crinkling behind that skull mask of his from smiling.

 

"I said 'one of'!"  You smile as you take a drink.

 

"That's right, we're all her favorites.  I'm number one on the list though, right love?"  Price half yells from the living room, looking through the collection of movies Johnny has to find something that we can all vote on.

 

You snort a little, your drink almost coming out of your nose for a moment before you cough a couple times.  "If I say yes, we can all agree to just leave it at that right?"

 

There was a resounding "NO!" before you all cracked up laughing.  This is good.  This is nice.  You missed this.  It's almost like you hadn't really missed out on much.  You are still a part of their team, in a way.  Not the 141 obviously, but this team of misfits or whatever you want to call it. 

Chapter 3: Sweet Dreams

Summary:

You tuck Soap into bed after another movie night.

5 weeks later

---

It's late.  Creeping up towards 1am.  We are all piled up into heaps at my apartment.  It's quiet except for the movie blaring on the TV.  Poor guys.  They had to head out for another mission days after the last night at Soap's apartment.  They all came back a little banged up.  Sore, bruised, and tired.  But Soap insisted on a movie night again.  You offered to have everyone over at your place.

 

Price is in one of the recliners, kicked back and his hat covering his face while he snoozed.  You had laid a blanket over him earlier.  Ghost is in the other recliner, leaning forward and keeping his eyes peeled to the TV.  You are on the couch, stuck in the middle between Gaz and Soap.  Gaz is leaned over on the arm of his side the couch, head propped up with his hand and nodding off a little.  Soap was sat up mostly straight, but still leaned over towards you a bit.  And you just felt dwarfed in the middle, covered in a blanket and a bowl of popcorn on your lap.  At first you had kept to your space, trying not to encroach on either one of them.  But after a belly full of food and drink, settling in and relaxing during the movie.  At some point you end up sharing your blanket with Johnny.  Your head leaned back, laying against his arm that was laid out on the back of the couch behind you.  He was warm, and as much as you would just love to lean into it and bask in it, you didn't want to be rude.

 

The movie finally ends, and everyone starts to move around and stretch.  Price snorts himself awake and pulls his hat off his face to place it back on his head.  

 

"Well then lads, best we head out.  Thank you for entertaining, love."  He says while grunting and standing up, tossing the blanket over the back of the chair.

 

"Hey, it was my pleasure.  Happy to have you guys."  You set the popcorn aside as you stand up, giving Price and Gaz a quick hug as they head toward the door.  You manage to get a little fist bump from Ghost.  He can act annoyed all he wants, but even in the dark you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile under the mask.  Turd.

 

You wave everyone out except Soap.  He lingers behind everyone else a bit.  Hands in his pockets, standing by the couch somewhat awkwardly and yawning.  Poor baby.  You grab the bowl of popcorn along with some bottles and cans and take them into the kitchen, then go over and give him a quick hug as well before he heads out.  His arms wrap around you tight while you slip your own around his midsection.  "You look like you could sleep for a week.  Go get some rest, yeah?

 

You let your arms go and start to step away but he grabs onto you a little tighter, pulling you closer.  You stand there a moment before sliding your arms around him again, lightly rubbing his back.  "You ok, big guy?"

 

"Jus' missed ya, lass.  This last mission was a bit rough."

 

"I kinda figured.  But you all came home and that's what really matters, ya know?  I mean, to me anyway.  You boys coming home is always a success in my book."

 

You pull back enough and smile up at him, putting a hand softly onto his cheek, your thumb lightly stroking his skin.  He closes his eyes and leans into it for a moment.  You look him over a little better as he holds onto you.  A few more cuts and scrapes on his face.  A nasty little gash on his chin, slowly healing already.  It will most likely turn into a scar.  Another to add to his growing collection.  His hair seems to have grown out quite a bit since you last saw him.

 

He finally opens his eyes and stares down at you.  Did his eyes somehow get bluer?  Bluer is a word right?  Maybe it's the light.  Wait, is this awkward?  You've been staring at him far longer than you probably should have.  But he hasn't stopped looking at you either.  It feels kinda nice though.  Comfortable.  Comforting in a way?

 

"Alright Bubbles, let's go get you tucked into bed before you fall into a heap on my floor and I have to try to drag your ass back to your apartment."  You give his cheek a little pat before pulling it away from his face.

 

He smiles a little at that, grabbing your hand and holding onto it, squeezing gently.  "You'd really tuck me into bed?"

 

"I… well, I was joking but if you actually want me to tuck you in so you can finally have a night-night then… let's go tuck you into bed?"

 

There's that grin of his.  Fucking hell that grin.  He eagerly laces his fingers into yours and leads you off out your door, grabbing your set of keys and handing them off to you before heading down the hall to his own place.  He unlocks the door and leads you inside, letting you shut the door and setting your keys on the counter.

 

His place looks like a bomb went off in it.  You had actually semi tidied his apartment a little while he was out, but now that he was home his stuff was everywhere.  You decide that you really should do more of a deep clean on the place the next time he is out of town.

 

He stops in the doorway to his bedroom, still not having let go of your hand.  "I've been meanin' to ask, why do you always make my bed for me when I'm out?"

 

Oh that.  The bed was a mess at the moment since he had been back a few days.  But at some point in the last 3 years, you always did make his bed for him whenever he left.

 

"Cause who the hell wants to worry about fixing their shit when they just wanna go to bed and be dead to the world for a few hours.  I sure don't.  So I just… figured it was nice.  You can come home, drop everything, crawl in and pass out."

 

You let his hand go and slide around him to enter his room, moving his pillows and shaking out his blankets a bit and making it so he can just climb in.  You turn back to him and smile.  He's staring at you again.  Or maybe the poor bastard is zoned out from being so tired.  You step towards him again and take his hand again, pulling him over to his bed.

 

"Come on big guy.  Crawl in."  

 

He does so without any protest.  You pull his blankets up around him before adjusting his pillows.  "There.  Snug as a bug.  Goodnight, Johnny."  

 

Before you can take even a step, he grabs you around the wrist.  "We haven't had a chance to talk yet abou' what happened with your ex and all tha' ya know."

 

You sigh a little and shrug, sitting on the edge of his bed.  You pull your hand back a bit to make him let go of your wrist, but keep your hand in his for a moment.  "Not much to talk about.  I mean there is but… there isn't.  If that makes sense?  And besides, right now it's way past your bed time and I dunno about you but that seems like a really shitty bedtime story."

 

"Maybe.  But I haven't been around.  And ye've needed me."  Why does he look sad?  He shouldn't be sad.  

 

"What I've needed is for you to not worry about me and my stupid little problems.  You have way more important shit to worry about, my guy.  And saving the world from the bad guys is at the top of your list."

 

"Still feelin' guilty abou' it, lass."  He does.  And you know he does.  He shouldn't.  But you get it.

 

"Tell you what.  You sleep.  You unwind.  You relax.  I have the next couple of days off.  Once you get yourself situated, you let me know and I'm yours.  We'll talk.  Promise.  Sound good?"

 

Alright, there's that damn grin from him.  It's an easy promise to make.  Just giving him some of your time.  Easy as that.  

 

"Go to sleep, Bubbles."  You squeeze his hand and let go, standing up from his bed.  He snatches your wrist again before you can walk away.  You look down at him with an eyebrow raised.  "Can I help you, sir?"

 

"Ye forgot a goodnight kiss, hen."  You snort a little while chuckling, dramatically rolling your eyes at him before leaning down, moving the hair from his mohawk off his forehead and planting a kiss.  "There.  That better?"

 

"I know of a better spot that could use a kiss."  He says with that shit eating grin on his face.  You love that grin.  Not that you'd admit it to him though.  "Pushing your luck tonight, aren't you mister."  Definitely no question about it.  You suppose he should get some brownie points for trying.

 

"Always, lass."  He winks at you with a grin.  You give him another dramatic eye roll, shaking your head at him.  You lean down and lightly give him a kiss on the lips.  You think you feel him trying to kiss you back, but it's late and your own tired ass is probably imagining things.  "Goodnight, Johnny.  Sleep."  You smirk and in your best, worst, most terrible impression of Price you tell him "Tha's an ordah"

 

He laughs.  "Tha was fucking shite.  But yes, ma'am."  And with that, you leave him be and go back to your own apartment.

 

Notes:

What can I say, you are a little oblivious when it comes to Soap but EEEEEEEEEEE! A KISS!

Chapter 4: Nap Attack

"So someone jus' sent ye these pictures of them cheatin'?"  Johnny had your phone in his hand, scrolling through the pictures you had been sent of your ex.

 

"Yup.  Dunno who they came from but that's definitely my ex playing tonsil hockey while having their hand down someone else's pants, so…"  You are rummaging through a cabinet for a bit before finally coming out with a small black zippered bag and bringing it over to the dining room table.  You then pull a chair out and move it towards the linoleum of the kitchen.  "Shirt off, Bubbles."

 

Johnny smiles, eyes still glued to your phone.  "Hang on, tryin' to find your nudes on here.  Ye got a secret folder or somethin?"  

 

"Unless you really want me to shave a huge penis onto that giant head of yours, don't be a dick."  You come up behind him and snatch your phone out of his hands, locking it and tucking it away into your bra and going back to the table, your back to him.  You open up the bag and pull out a hair clipper, fishing around for the right guard to get the length that Johnny likes.  Plugging it in and testing to make sure it works.  You are by no means an expert, but the last time he cut his own hair it was lopsided as hell and you had decided to try to help him fix it.  Since then, he has trusted you to take care of it.  His funeral, you thought at the time.

"Alrigh' alrigh' I was jus' pokin' fun at ye, hen."  He laughs while he peels his shirt off before sitting in the chair.

 

"Ah huh, sure ya were."  After getting the clippers set to the right height with the right guard in place, you turn to finally face him.  At the sight of him, you almost drop the clippers onto the floor.

 

"Christ on a cracker Johnny…"

 

"I know, I'm sexy as hell aren't I?"

 

He wasn't wrong, but that's not what shocked the hell out of you.

 

There was a giant purple bruise on his chest, some cuts that still looked red and angry, and little scratches here and there.  You set the clippers down and move over to him while looking him over.  "You said your last mission was rough but holy shit that was an understatement.  How the hell are you not in the hospital?  Wait you did go to a hospital right?  Or checked out by a medic?  Something, yeah?"  You walk around him and look at his back, which wasn't any better to be perfectly honest.  You place the back of your hand by one of the cuts on his back to test it for heat.  "There's this one back here that is looking pretty angry, doesn't seem to be infected but keep an eye on it."  

 

"'It's not that bad hen, I've been cleanin' it the best I can in the shower."

 

"Good, the last thing you need is an infection."  You look it over one more time, sighing and wondering if you should dress it with something before deciding against it for now.  He's a big boy and can take care of himself… mostly.

 

"Ye don' have to worry about me, princess."

 

"If worrying about your ass makes me a princess, then bow to me peasant." You say, going back and grabbing the clippers, turning it on and off again quickly.  Like it somehow broke in the last few minutes or something.

 

He stands up and just about dips into a bow before you move over and grab his chin in your hand.  "I was joking you little shit."  He's grinning wide as he sits back down, chuckling a little even.  You go to work on his head, trimming up the back and sides of the mohawk.  

 

"Don' fuck it up and leave me lopsided hen."

 

"Don't be an ass and you won't have to worry about it Bubbles."  Every now and then you glance down at his back.  So many scratches.  A couple of bruises.  That one angry looking gash.  And scars.  So many scars.  Scars all over the place.  Mostly small ones.  Big ones here and there from being shot or stabbed.  You wanted to just run your fingers over them and kiss each one as if that would somehow make it better.  

 

You push those feelings down quickly.  Silly you.  Why would something like that pop into your head?

 

You eventually move around to the front of him to even out the sides a bit, running your fingers through the longer bit of his mohawk to smooth it out a little before you start running the clippers over his head.  You had asked once about why he liked the mohawk.  "Give 'em somethin' to hang on to."   Way more info than you ever needed.

 

"Close your eyes so you don't get hair in them."

 

"And ruin a perfectly good view?

 

You stop for a second and look down at him.  You just now realize that standing between his legs puts your chest right in front of his face.  Not touching, but close enough that if he leaned forward at all then he would be.

 

You take a little step back at him, smiling at him for a moment.  "You better behave mister, I can still fuck your head up and make you the laughing stock of the team."

 

"Ye already fuck with my head enough as it is lass, don' do any more damage then ye already have."

 

"Sure Johnny, whatever that means."  You flick the switch on the clippers to turn it off, setting them on his lap and brushing loose hair from his shoulders before taking his face into your hands and turning it slightly, eyeing your handwork and trying to make sure it's at least passable as straight.  Your eyes flick down to his, watching him a moment by looking into his eyes while his almost burn holes through you.  You give his cheek a little pat before moving your hands off his head.  Before you get too far his hands fly up and grab your wrists, holding your hands to keep them right where they are.  

 

" 'm sorry about your ex."

 

You shrug your shoulders at him, flattening your hands over his cheeks and petting one with your thumb.  “I suppose I should count my lucky stars that it happened before we ever moved in together.”

 

“I did try to tell ye that they were a bad egg, hen.”

 

“And I still tried to incubate the fucking thing.  Needed some help seeing they were shit and had to be tossed from the nest."

 

"Ye did.  Now ye can find someone to treat ya right."

 

"I know.  Some day.  Maybe.  For now, if I ever find out who sent me those pics I guess I owe them oral or something."  Johnny's eyes widen ever so slightly.  You laugh and pat his cheek again before pulling your hands off of his face, smiling at him before brushing as much loose hair off of him as possible with a nearby rag.  "Go look in the mirror, make sure I spiffed it up enough for you.  Let me know if I need to take any length from the 'hawk."  As he stands you give him a swat on the ass for that comment.

 

"Oi, at least take me out to dinner first."  He says with a laugh, heading towards your bathroom.

 

"I feed you on a regular basis, I've paid my dues."  You snort while grabbing the broom and sweeping up the tufts of his hair off the floor.  You bend down and sweep the hair into the dust pan.

 

And as you bend down, Johnny has taken the opportunity to come up behind you and spank you.

 

"Ouch!  I didn't hit you that hard you ass!" you yell as you stand up quickly, most of the hair tumbling out of the dustpan.

 

"Payback, love." He says with a wide grin.  "Wan' me to kiss it better?"

 

"You wish, Johnny.  Gonna have a bruise of your handprint as it is."

 

"Ye can leave a few marks on me if it'll make ye feel better."

 

"Oh ha ha to you too… ass."  You roll your eyes a bit and sweep up the rest of the hair.  "Go shower off, make sure you clean that cut on your back, and if you decide you want to behave we can watch a movie or something."

 

"Maybe later.  Could go for a nap right now.  Someone kept me up past my bedtime last night."  He grabs his shirt, not bothering to put it back on just yet.

 

"You'll just have to learn how to tell your hand 'no' so you can get some sleep next time."  You snicker a bit, packing everything up and putting it back where it belongs.  "A nap does sound kinda nice.  I always feel like I'm 5 days past my bed time."  

 

He stands there with his shirt in his hands, gripping it and twisting it a little.  "Could we…  I mean… we could… If you wan' we can…  And you don' have to obviously…"

 

You slowly walk back towards him, letting him try to get his words figured out, tilting your head a bit questioningly with a smile creeping onto your face  "Johnathon MacTavish, are you trying to get me to sleep with you?"

 

You didn't know it was possible to embarrass him like this.  His whole face is turning red and splotchy, with redness creeping down over his chest.  For his sake, you try not to laugh, biting your lip hard.

 

"No' like THA ' ye filthy minx!  Forget I said anythin' about it."  He starts walking to the door, trying to run before he can be even more embarrassed.

 

You rush towards him and grab his hand, pulling him back to you and having him face you.  "I was teasing you, hon.  You being all flustered over it just made for a perfect opportunity."  You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug.  "Your bed or mine?"

 

He grabs you by your shoulders gently, pushing you back to study your face.  "Ye're serious?" 

 

You nod up at him.  "Look, whatever happened while you boys were gone has rocked you pretty hard.  And for you to be so… out of sorts?  Worries me a bit.  So yeah, if it would make you feel better about whatever is running through that big head of yours, a nap is pretty easy to do to get you back into the right head space.  So… your bed, or mine?"

 

"Ye'rs.  Let me shower and I'll be right back, yeah?"  He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and hurries off to his own place.  In the mean time you go off into your room, fixing your blankets and sheets a bit.  Luckily you just washed them the other day so they are still relatively clean.  You even clear off your dresser before moving the TV from the living room and placing it on top of it.  That way you can distract yourselves if needed.  Before he even gets back, you decide to slip into a sports bra.  Super uncomfortable to sleep in, but you figure keeping the girls contained for the time being is the best call.  Going back into the kitchen to grab a couple bottles of water, Johnny comes back with his head still wet, a shirt that looks like it would rip if he took in a deep breath, and grey sweatpants.  He looks nervous.  Which you find a little adorable.

 

"Relax, Bubbles.  This isn't prom night and we both get to stay in our clothes.  Just friends having a nap."   You tilt your head and lead the way to your room, setting the water on the night stand next to your bed.  Turning back to him, he's standing in the doorway and looking around.

 

"Never been in ye're room before, lass."  He finally takes a couple steps in.  "Maybe I'll have to ask for a nap more often, eh?"

 

"Let's get through this one before you make it a thing.  If my snoring keeps you awake you may eat your words."

 

You pull the covers back and hop in, sitting on one side of the bed and patting the empty spot next to you.  He blushes a little again before he comes over and crawls in beside you.  You scoot down just a bit, your head lining up with his chest so he can see the TV, rolling onto your side to face it while adjusting pillows and blankets.  He does the same, testing out the ones you have given him to see what fits him best before rolling to his side behind you.  Grabbing the remote you hold it out for him, already letting out a yawn.   "You pick something."

 

He grabs it from you, scrolling through streaming apps before finding something and hitting play.  He reaches and leans over you to place the remote on the side table, leaning back and wrapping his arm around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.  "There.  Proper napping position, eh?"

 

"Yes, very important to have."  You yawn again, which makes him yawn to.  "Alright, get some rest."  You reach up and pat his cheek.  It's a lot smoother than it was before.  He definitely shaved before coming back.

 

You feel him sigh, adjusting himself behind you, chin lightly resting on top of your head.  You adjust yourself for a second, trying not to bump into him too much.  

 

You try to watch the movie.  But your eyelids are just so damn heavy.  You place a hand on the arm that he has wrapped around you.  Ever so lightly running your fingers over his skin.  It's rough.  Slightly bumpy from more scars.  But somehow soothing to you.  The last thing going through your mind is hoping he can get some rest as you drift off to sleep.

 

Chapter 5: Sold

Your body suddenly jerks you awake, almost in a panic.  You aren't even sure why until you remember the TV is on and something is playing.  That must be what rudely woke you up.  You rub your eyes a bit before closing them again, trying to get your heart to stop thumping loudly against your chest, sighing heavily.

 

It's then that you feel Johnny stir a little behind you.  He has somehow managed to get both arms around your waist, pulling you tighter against him while letting out a grunt before he starts snoring.  Still asleep.  You try not to move, hoping not to wake him just yet.  You carefully reach over and grab your phone from the night stand.  You've been napping for a couple of hours with him.

 

Johnny pulls on you again, tilting his head and nuzzling into your neck.  Lips lightly brushing against your skin.  He takes in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.  

 

When did he get so clingy?  Not that that's a bad thing… but even in his sleep?  What the hell happened to him?

 

You wait for the snoring to start up again before ever so carefully extracting yourself from his arms.  Which is almost impossible with how hard he is holding onto you.  You manage to get one of your pillows between you so he can grab into it instead.  He damn near crushes the thing while you slip away, burying his head into it and sighing heavily.  You pull the covers up to his shoulders before slowly making your way out of the room, closing the door just a little.  You then sneak off into the kitchen to make something to eat for the both of you.  Grilled cheese and tomato soup sounds good.  After frying them off in a pan, you toss them into the oven on a low heat to keep them warm but also make them a little more crunchy.  You then start warming the soup, adding some herbs and spices to it and letting it simmer for a bit.  You scroll on your phone in the meantime, waiting for everything to get done.  Shortly before everything is done, Johnny makes his way out from your room, yawning and scratching what little hair he now has on his head.

 

“Though’ I smelled somethin’ good.  When did ye get up?  Was all lonely in there.”  He makes his way over towards the table and takes a seat in one of the chairs.

 

"Well good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty.  And just long enough to make you something to eat since I figured you'd be hungry."  You set your phone down before standing to grab a plate and bowls from the cabinet.  You dump the soup into each bowl and stack the plate with sandwiches from the oven.  The plate goes between you while you each get a bowl.  As you sit down you see he is scrolling on your phone, frowning a little in confusion.

 

"Dude, you aren't going to find my nudes on there."  You reach over to grab your phone back and he holds it just out of your reach, still staring at the screen.

 

"Gave up on tha', lookin' at search history."

 

You grab onto his arm and pull it down to you, taking your phone away from him finally.  “Something else that isn't your business, MacTavish!"

 

"Oi, can' blame a guy for bein' curious."

 

"I can, but you aren't going to find anything scandalous.  I do know how to use incognito."

 

He grins at you after grabbing a grilled cheese and taking a bite.  "Knew ye were a filthy minx."

 

You slug him in the arm just for that.  He drops his sandwich and makes a big show of rubbing his arm like you actually hurt him, a mix of a pout and a look of hurt on his face.  "Oi!  I dinna come here for tha' kind of abuse!"

 

"Then don't be an ass, or it'll be the last time I sleep with you!"  You laugh and start eating.  You missed this.  The banter and behavior when it was just the two of you.  Almost like a married couple.  Even when you hardly saw each other and had been away for a lot longer than you care to even admit.  You hate that you let your ex dictate your friendships the last couple years.  You did in fact lose most of them because of it.  But not Johnny…

 

"Ye're free the rest of the day, aye?"  

 

"Yup, I'm off the next few days so if you want something I'm all yours, Johnny."  You think you almost hear him choke after saying that.  Your gaze goes back over to him and you tilt your head.  "What's up buttercup?"

 

"Got somethin' I wanna show ye."

 

"Swear on your mum Bubbles, if you take your pants off…"

 

He snerks, just about losing soup out of his nose.  "Ye're a righ' cheeky one toda' aren' ye?  Get all hot and bothered havin' me in bed wit ye?"  He shakes his head, almost giggling.  "Nah, I uh… bought a house."

 

Your face just lights up, jaw dropping and almost squealing.  "Dude, that is fucking AWESOME!  I know you talked about it before, didn't know you finally pulled the trigger on it.  Where at?"

 

"Not too far from here.  Bit closer to base.  Was hopin' to show it to ye."

 

"Well good cause now I gotta see it.  Just don't ask me about decorating tips, I don't know the first thing about that stuff. "

 

He leans over and grabs your chair, pulling it and you closer to him and hugging you tight.  You hug him back a moment before tapping him on the shoulder.  "Can't… breathe…"  He only releases you a little, kissing your cheek before letting go fully and pushing you and the chair back in place.  

 

"Ge' changed and we'll head over when ye're ready."  He takes empty bowls and plates over to the sink for you before he goes back to his apartment.  You go off and put on something halfway decent, fixing your hair to make it like you didn't just roll out of bed before tossing keys and phone into your purse and going over to his door and knocking out "shave and a haircut - two bits" onto it, your usual knock to let him know that it's you.  He opens the door for you before going off and looking for his jacket.  Finding it over the couch , he comes back and follows you out, locking the door and then grabbing your hand, leading you to the elevator and down to his jeep.  He's practically vibrating with excitement.  "Been itchin' ta tell a show ye, I really hope you like it."

 

You scoff a little and give his hand a squeeze.  "You have to live in it Johnny, not me.  Plus you already bought it so if I hate it you are still stuck with it."  You smile up at him while he has to look down at you, almost not amused.  Going out to his jeep he goes to your side and opens the door for you.  "Such a gentleman, your mama should be so proud."  He shuts it after you get climbed in, hopping into the driver's seat as you buckle in.  He does the same before heading off.

---

---

 

"Explain something to me."  

 

"Wha's tha princess?"  

 

There it is again.  Princess.  He's never called you that , and now he's said it twice.  Weirdo.

 

"How in the hell do you and the boys go on stealth missions… when none of ya'll are actually stealthy ?"

 

He turns his head over at you and frowns a moment, then puts his eyes back on the road.  He was slowly making his way towards the outskirts of the city now.  "How do ye mean?"

 

"Price snores like a fucking chainsaw that just won't start, you snore but not near as bad, I assume Simon does, Gaz maybe, and all of you are just fuckin' huuuuge.  Not much about any of of you exudes 'stealth."

 

He chuckles and shakes his head.  "Light footed, lass.  Get in, do our job, melt with the shadows."

 

"It's a good thing you have to do it sober then, a few drinks and you turn into a bull in an antique shop."

 

"I can turn this jeep around and take ye righ' back home, sweetheart."

 

Sweetheart?

 

"Fiiiine.  I'll behave."  He looks over at you again and you straighten up in your seat, folding your hands and placing them under your chin, exaggerating batting your eyes at him.  He shakes his head, looking back to the road before starting to slow down to make a turn onto a dirt road.  A short jaunt later he's turning into a long paved driveway.  You lean forward in your seat a bit to get a better look of the place while getting closer.  Soap parks in front of the garage, turning off the jeep and sitting back in his seat, looking over at you.

 

You open your door and hop down out of the jeep, shutting the door and getting a better look at the place.  It seemed huge from the outside at least.  A newer house, with a two stall garage attached to it.  Spacious.  Hunter green siding with a newer looking roof and a ton of windows.

 

It takes a moment for you to realize Soap has come up beside you, hands in his jacket pockets and staring down at you, looking quite amused.  "Ye wanna check out the inside?"

 

"What, you mean you didn't drive me all the way out here just to stare at the outside?"

 

"Smar'ass."  With a smile he extends his elbow towards you, which you slide your arm around and let him lead you to the front door.  He leans down a bit and punches a code into a keypad on the door, throwing it open after it beeps indicating it was unlocked.  He then guides you inside ahead of himself, shutting the door behind him.

 

"I dunno Johnny, this place is way too small.  You should have gone bigger."  If he was going to call you a smartass then you had to at least play the part.  The first floor was a mainly open floor concept.  Living room melding into the dining area melding into a kitchen.  You walk off towards the kitchen to get a better look.  Nothing extravagant, but still large and fairly modern.  "Now you are going to have to learn how to cook in this thing, it's not just for looks ya know."  He leans up against the counter, looking around with you.

 

"Migh' have to hire a cook.  Don' wanna muck up the place or burn it down."  

 

"Oh come on, I've taught you enough over the years you should have learned something, eh?"  You made your way over to the fridge and opened it to look inside.  Plenty of storage room.  Lots of cabinets around too.  You shut the doors and walk back over towards the living room.  "Man, you might need to invest in some more furniture for this place, it's going to look pretty bare in here don't ya think?  Maybe get one of them tv's that covers most of the wall.  Make for awesome movie nights.  Gaming would be stellar on it."  Off to the side you see a bathroom, and a door beyond that is to what looks like a bedroom.  "This could be an office.  Or guest room?"

 

You turn back to Soap and see that his eyes have been glued to you this whole time.  You smile towards him.  "You have a very bitchin' bachelor pad, MacTavish."

 

"Ye haven' even seen the upstairs."  He moves away from the counter and walks towards the staircase, waiting for you.  You lead the way up the stairs with Johnny close behind, the landing placing you right in the middle of a bunch of doorways.  Johnny points to each door.  "Master bedroom, master bathroom, bedroom, bedroom, bathroom, bedroom."

 

"Who knew a single guy needed so many friggin bedrooms."  You go off and peek into the master bedroom.  You swear it's the size of your entire apartment.  

 

"Didn' say I was going to be livin' alone."

 

You arch your eyebrows as you turn back to him.  "Making it the ultimate bachelor pad then?  Price and the boys moving in too?"

 

He shoves his hands back into his pockets.  You swear he is almost starting to blush.  "No' exactly.  Meant like… some day, ye know?"

 

You nod, making your way back to him with a smile.  "You have done very well for yourself, Bubbles.  I really am so very proud of you."  You tilt up and give him a quick peck on the cheek before heading back downstairs, Soap trailing after you.

 

"I can't wait to see what you do with the place.  Once you get yourself all moved in and stuff."  You make your way back towards the kitchen, turning and leaning onto the counter, crossing arms over your stomach a bit and just taking it all in.  Johnny comes over and does the same, standing right next to you while sighing a bit.  You look up at him and bump your hip into his, making him look down at you.  "Proud of ya, big guy."

 

"Thanks.  Still in awe a bit.  Doesn' feel real yet."

 

"It won't until you move your stuff in.  Get settled in.  Probably a lot like when you moved off base into the apartment.  Though now you'll have to worry about a lawn to mow.  Get yourself a security system installed and whatnot.  I can stop by every now and then and keep an eye on your stuff."  You turn to face the counter now, leaning over it and looking out one of the many kitchen windows.   

 

"Was gonna talk to ye abou' tha'."  Now it's his turn to bump his hip into yours to get your attention.  You look up while turning towards him.  

 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to assume anything."

 

"Nah lass, it's no' tha'.  I mean... Wha' I meant ta say was... Here, let me jus'..."  He turns and grabs you by your hips, lifting you and setting you on the counter top.  You grab his shoulders while he lifts, mostly from surprise, but also out of fear of being dropped.  Once he set you down he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fidgeting with them until he got a key off the ring, grabbing your hand and placing it in your palm before taking his fingers and using them to close yours around the key, holding it there .  "I do wan' ye to.  But… not jus' tha'.  I wan'...  Jus'..."  He closes his eyes, taking the hand he has a hold of and putting it against his chest.  Flustered.

 

You take your free hand and move it to his face, cupping his chin.  Being ever so careful.  "Hey.  Eyes on me."  He opens his eyes instantly and looks right into yours.  "Deep breath.  Relax.  Focus.  

 

Still looking at you, he takes in a slow and deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly.

 

"Good boy."  You smile at him encouragingly.  "Tell me wha-..."

 

"Move in wit' me."

Notes:

He said WHAT?!

Also yes, I did have grilled cheese and tomato soup while writing this. Spaghettio's are superior to Campbell's Tomato Soup according to some in my house.

Chapter 6: Reasoning

"Move in wit' me."

 

Your words suddenly fail to make their way out of your mouth for a moment.  

 

"I’m sorry… what?"

 

"I said 'Move in wit' me', lass."

 

"Either I'm having a stroke or you've lost your marbles."

 

"Oh I'll have one later, but I definitely haven' lost anythin'."

 

"Oh ew."  You move your hand from his chin, placing the key he had given you onto the counter before lifting and tilting it back up to place the back of your hand against his forehead.  "No fever…"  You take your hand away and hold up some fingers.  "How many do you see, Soap?"

 

He presses his lips together tight while batting your hand away  "Oi, I'm bein' serious."

 

"So am I.  Concussions are very serious."

 

He steps closer to you, standing in between your legs and placing a hand on either side of you to make sure you stay on the counter.  Those intense blue eyes staring at you firmly.  Like if he tried hard enough he would set you on fire.  Which to be fair, that look of his does make some parts of you very heated.  "I'm fucked in the head, but not an eejit lass.  I plan on keepin' ye around for a while.  Why not have ye around all the time?"

 

"Cause I'm my own brand of crazy, and being around it in smaller doses is much more tolerable?'

 

"More like ye've grown on all of us and I – we like havin' ye around.  Simon included, even if the bawbag won' admit it."

 

“Oh, but if he's moving in then I'm out."

 

"Wha's wrong wit' Ghost?"  His eyes narrow at you for just a moment.

 

"Nothing, I happen to like that bawbag.  He just deserves to be somewhere where he doesn’t have to wear the mask, and I know he isn’t anywhere close to being comfortable around me for that to happen.”

 

"He'll be fine, he wears it aroun' all the time no matter where he is.”

 

“But what if-”

 

He reaches his hand up and covers your mouth.  You glower slightly, grumbling your displeasure.  “Ye do understand we have already talked this out and it’s been decided we want ye here, aye?”

 

You shake your head.  Because of course you didn’t, but apparently them making decisions for you is a new thing they have adopted.  You reach up and take his hand off of your mouth.  “Gonna have to start kicking asses if this is going to be a new thing with you guys.

 

“I’d pay to see you try ‘n go after Price.”  

 

“And risk him breaking a hip?”

 

That coaxes a laugh from him, and his hands slide over and land on top of your thighs.  “He’d have your heid if he heard you say that, hen.”

 

“Oh please, you all are softies when it comes to me.  I could probably kill someone and you would fall over yourselves trying to help me hide the body.”

 

“Ye still haven’ said yes, hen.”

 

“Because I can think of a few dozen reasons on why exactly it would be terrible idea to have me around.”

 

“Name one.”

 

“I don’t want to make anything complicated.”

 

“How would ye mak-”

 

Now it’s your turn to put your hand on his mouth to shut him up.  “I’m the odd person out.  I don’t have anything close to the bond that you boys have with each other.  I’ve never had to have a knife to my throat or take a bullet for any one of you.  I’m very aware of that aspect.  So when it all gets boiled down for what it’s all worth… being the outsider means I am easily expendable.”

 

He mumbles behind your hand so you press it tighter to his lips.  “And you can deny it all you want MacTavish, but because I have a love and respect for all of you I want to know the moment someone feels uncomfortable around me so I can take care of it.”

 

He pulls your hand away, a tiny hint of a smile tickling the corner of his mouth.  "So is tha’ a yes?"

 

You roll your eyes at him.  "Since you won’t be making this easy on me…Yes.  I’ll put in my notice and move in with you.  Happy?"

 

He smiles more, flashing his pearly whites at you.  "I can be harder on ye if ye wan'."

 

"There's a 'That's what she said' joke in there somewhere."

 

He starts leaning in a little closer towards you.  “Ye can say it and make it true.”

 

“Down, boy.”

 

He stops, and his hands squeeze around your thighs.  You laugh, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him in close.   “Such a dork.  You’re lucky you are one of my favorites.”

 

“Admit it.  I’m ye’re first favorite, aye?”

 

“I ain’t admitting shit, mister.”  You let go of him and push him back enough to look at him.  “Can you let me down and take me home now?  Apparently I have to make some calls about moving.”

 

Taking a small step back, he moves his arms as if he was about to lift you and set you down.  Instead he goes full caveman and tosses you over his shoulder to carry you out to his jeep to take you back home.

 

---

~2 Hours Later~

🧼:  Celebrating at the pub tonight!

 

Gazatron:  Celebrating what?

 

You:  Soap's pregnant 

 

💰:  Soap got you pregnant?

 

👻:  Bout time he figured that out.

 

Gazatron:  I'm an uncle?!

 

👻:  Don’t start calling him Daddy love.  Make for awkward missions.

 

You:  ….the fuck is wrong with you people?

 

🧼:  Already regretting inviting you people out.

 

Gazatron:  Who you calling "you people"?

 

You:  There's a Tropic Thunder joke in there.  Calling you Kirk Lazarus sounds…

 

👻: Terrible.

 

💰: Do I even ask?

 

 You, 👻, 🧼,Gazatron:  NO!

 

You:  I take it back, I'm not moving in.

 

👻:  Already voted.

 

You:  I heard.  All ya'll need to stop that.

 

🧼:  I did tell you, lass.

 

Gazatron:  So we don't need to sabotage her apartment?

 

You: What was that Gaz?

 

Gazatron:  Nothing!

 

You:  Swear on your mum if I don’t get my deposit back…

 

💰:  Leave my mum out of this love.

 

You:  Not your mama, Price.  <3

 

🧼:  Pub at 20:00!

 

 

Notes:

As if you would tell him no!

Chapter 7: Rescue

It’s been ten months since you moved in with Johnny and the boys.  Well.  Mostly Johnny.  Price, Ghost, and Gaz did have their own rooms.  They had beds and some of their things in them.  But they weren’t around nearly as much as it had been led on.  You aren’t sure if that was on purpose, or if that’s just how things ended up being.  With Simon that made sense, you know how much his anonymity and privacy meant to him.  Slightly with Price, being their superior.  Living with subordinates may have crossed some sort of line for him.  Or he was just a military man through and through and had his way about things and was stubborn to change.  Gaz?  Who knows.  Wild card, that one.

 

When you first moved in Johnny had insisted that you got the master bedroom and attached bathroom.  His reasoning was that you were going to be at the house more than anyone, you deserved it.  You were also keeping an eye on the place, keeping the cabinets and fridge stocked with all of their favorites, you kept the place tidy, and ran whatever errands they needed while they were off on a mission or otherwise.  You kept telling him that you wanted the smallest room and smallest bathroom because you weren't the one paying the mortgage and you didn't want to get in anyone's way.  At one point you thought you finally broke him down.  You had packed up your apartment, downsized all your things and everything.  Johnny volunteered to take things to be donated.  Which you were absolutely thankful for since he could fit more into his jeep than you could into your car.  Turns out the butthead was just taking your things to the house and putting them in the master bedroom.  Price was the mastermind of that one.  Damn that man.

 

Johnny's house has also become a recovery den of sorts.  Any time one of them has been forced to take leave due to injury, they’d end up there.  Part of it is because having to deal with the medics or being confined to their bunk is not that great. But you have also highly encouraged it with every single one of them.  You had some training in first aid and wound care before you ever met The 141, but being around them all these years has expanded most of that knowledge.

 

Gaz and Price were the first ones to stick around on leave.  Gaz with a few stab wounds to the leg, Price was shot in the arm.  They insisted they were well off enough to take care of themselves.  You made sure the gauze, painkillers, and salves were always well stocked.  You left them alone for the most part.

 

Simon even stayed for a while.  He ended up with a very gnarly wound on the back of his head that needed stitches and some staples.  No concussion, thank the gods.  For the first day he was home, things were basically the same as they had been since you had settled in.  He was tired of being bothered by the medic.  So you left him be.  After all, he was a big boy and could handle himself.

 

By day two, much to your surprise, Ghost asked if you could help him.  It was just the two of you at the house.  The others were at base, training in newbies, being briefed about a future mission, or whatever the hell it was that they were doing.  Maybe that's why he asked.  Normally you would have goaded him and made a huge fuss out of it, because Simon asked you for help.  You didn’t though.  You knew it took a lot for him to ask you for assistance. 

 

So when he asked, you just nodded and let him lead you into the bathroom, giving him grace while also respecting his privacy while he took off his mask.  You gave Simon a hand towel so he could still keep his face covered.  He asked you to help him wash his hair.  Clean up the dried blood that was caked to his scalp.  Apply gauze and dressing.  He even asked you to help him put his mask back on.  He was more afraid of getting the balaclava tangled in a staple and putting a hole in it than he was about the actual wound itself.  But you made sure he was comfortable every step of the way, right down to asking for consent whenever you had to put hands on him for any reason.  He continued to let you help him over the next couple of weeks.  He healed up great though.  You attribute that to Ghost just being Ghost and a mere flesh wound was hardly anything.  

 

Then it was Johnny's turn.  And what a hell of a turn that was.

 

---

 

Your third alarm for the morning starts blaring.  It's the final one that signaled you absolutely have to get your ass out of bed if you would still like to have a job.  You fumble your phone off of the nightstand to tap for the alarm to be dismissed.  Mere seconds after the alarm stops, your phone starts to ring.  Immediately your heart sank when you saw the name flash on your screen.  

 

It's Ghost.  Ghost doesn't call.  Ghost never calls.

 

"Simon?"  You ask as you answer your phone.  You know the boys can't take their phone with them on missions, but best be safe and make sure it's him.  Yep, definitely Simon.

 

"Bit of a situation, love.  Johnny's in hospital.  Been hurt pretty bad."

 

"Is he going to be ok?"

 

"Seems like.  Lucky for him he's a stubborn bastard.  Military was able to get him transferred locally.  Just woke up.  Wants to go home"

 

You want to ask a billion questions.  And you probably would if Price or Gaz were on the phone.  But since it's Simon, you try to keep things simple so you don't chase him off.

 

"What’s the hold up?"

 

"They’ll only release him to family.  Told them his wife was on the way.”

 

“Johnny’s married?”

 

“Speakin’ to the lovely missus right now, aren’t I?”

 

“Uhhh… I don’t think they’ll buy that, Simon.”

 

“It’s his best shot at goin’ home since they are dragging their feet releasing him back to us.”

 

“What if they ask for ID and it shows I most definitely am not a Mrs. MacTavish?”

 

“You kept your surname.  Or you are so distraught over getting to your dearest husband you don’t think to grab your purse.  Doubtful they’ll even ask a question of it when you turn up.”

 

“That… might work.  Let me call in sick and go through my jewelry to see what I can find for a ring.  I’ll be there soon.”

 

“That’s it, love.  I’ll inform the men.  Get here in one piece.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Within an hour you have called into work and faked whatever illness that is the flavor of the week, ransacked your pitiful jewelry collection that you have massed over the years and found something half assed suitable that can pass as a wedding band.  You make a mental note that maybe you should invest in something that's a little nicer than cubic zirconia but that’s something that future you can worry about.  Present you is hyping yourself up to pretend to be the wife of a certain cleansing agent and spring him from the joint.

 

You squeal your tires coming into the parking lot, making a quick job of parking before rushing to the entrance of the hospital.  A spouse that was sick with worry would be a little beyond ridiculous when it comes to the well being of their significant other, right?  Gaz is there to greet you, trying his best to keep a straight face but clearly biting his cheek to stop from laughing.  Probably a good thing he isn’t the one you have to convince.  The others greet you as the Missus, which just sounds weird as hell coming from them.  

 

You go along with it right up until you start walking into Johnny’s room.  You stop dead in your tracks when you catch sight of him. 

 

Jesus, he looks rough. 

 

As far back as you can remember,  you have never seen any of them in as bad of shape as you see Soap right now.  He’s asleep at the moment.  Monitors beeping, IV bags hung but look to be about finished administering whatever they previously held in them.  A few stitches in his chin.   An arm in a sling.  One foot in what seems to be a walking boot.  Bruised and beaten.  A large bandage on his abdomen covering whatever damage needed to be repaired.  A nurse standing off to the side, typing away at the computer in the room to add whatever was needed to his chart.  You quietly make your way further into the room, trying not to disturb him so he could get all the rest he needed.  You move a chair to his bedside, scooting in as close as you can before ever so gently taking his hand into your own, your thumb making tiny circles on the back of it into his skin.  Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks and you desperately try to blink them away.  Something you didn’t even have to try to fake in the moment.  Seeing him like this really hurt your heart.

 

The nurse looks over at you, looking sympathetic while giving you a slight nod.  “I’ll let the doctor know you are here, Mrs. MacTavish.”  You turn your head and watch as the nurse leaves the room, catching sight of Price in the hallway before the door shuts.

 

“Damn shame I missed the wedding.  Bet you were a real beaut’ in ye’re dress, lass.”

 

You turn back towards Soap and bite back a giggle, leaning over the bed a little to get a better look at him, his head now slightly turned towards you.  “Nah, I was a hot mess at best.  You in a suit was the real show stopper.  Not a dry pair of panties in the house.”

 

He laughs for all of a split second before he winces, the arm in the sling pressing down across his stomach and holding tight.  You squeeze his hand that you still have hold of.  “Sorry, Bubbles.”

 

“Hear’ ye’re here to help me escape.”

 

“Apparently someone decided it was about time I joined in on a rescue mission.  Least your captors aren’t so bad looking.  Manage to get any numbers from the cute nurses?”

 

“Wouldn’ ‘ave been very husbandly of me, would it lass?”

 

“True.  I never have liked sharing.”

 

Even though he looks seven shades of fucked up, he manages to eek out that fucking grin of his.  “How ‘bout you give ye’re dearest lover a kiss to really sell it to the doctors, eh hen?”

 

You smile and roll your eyes at him before standing and giving him the tiniest kiss to his temple, one of the few places on his face that didn’t look like you would hurt him by doing so.  Before he could try to protest the doctor makes their way in and gives you a progress report.  Poor Soap.  He really is a lucky bastard.  Despite all he has gone through, the doctor is going to release him to your care after you sign some papers.  You give Johnny the smallest kiss on the lips with a squeeze to his hand before you leave him to go perform your supposed wifely duty of jotting down a signature.  You have to think extra hard when you sign off on everything, reminding yourself to put ‘MacTavish’ in place of your last name.  Given the present circumstances, it was played off as being worried sick about your husband and trying to think clearly.  

 

Many hours later, Johnny was being wheeled out by Ghost and with the help of Gaz and Price he was safely placed in the front seat of your car.  You help buckle him in, grabbing a jacket from your back seat and folding it to place under his arm to take some pressure off his shoulder.  A wheelchair gets tossed into the trunk.  You try to tell the guys that belongs to the hospital, but absolutely zero fucks are given.  You will have to remind future you to bring it back.

Chapter 8: Recover

Ghost and Gaz end up man handling Soap and get him out of the car and up into the house, setting him down into a recliner and getting him nestled in. That lasts all of 5 minutes before he has to pee. So they then have to get him out of the chair and into the bathroom. The main floor bathroom is hardly built for one very large Special Force to be in there by themself. Three very large Special Forces, with one of them being mostly crippled? That turns into an absolute shit show in and of itself. This just isn’t going to work.

“New plan, fellas. Soap goes into my room, we get him all set up in my bed and he can be up there til he gets to moving around better on his own."

"So that's what it takes to get into your bed? I'll remember that for next time, love." Ghost is just absolutely grinning behind his mask. You give him the finger and he haws out a laugh.

Soap shakes his head. “I’ll be fine down 'ere, we’ll figure it out.

Gaz pipes up with a “You get to sleep in bed with your wife Soap, take the win!”

“Well shite, didn’ think of it that way.” Soap sits up in his chair.

"I'm divorcing you. Wait, we can get an annulment, marriage wasn't consummated."

"You slacking there, Soap?" Gaz asks, trying to hold back a laugh.

"No' for lack of tryin." Soap has to hold his side when he starts to laugh and ends up coughing from the effort, leaning back in the chair again.

“Terrible. The lot of ya. So, we can agree? Johnny in my room to recover?”

“No' gonna get blood on your sheets, bonnie.”

"Oh please, I've shed more blood on my sheets than you ever will, Bubbles.”

Gaz tilts his head a bit while looking at you, brow furrowed while thinking. “When would you have to get bloo- ya know what, nevermind I got it now.

You laugh while shaking your head. Price comes inside the house, having grabbed the wheelchair from the trunk of your car. “Right, what’s the situation?”

“Soap needs to go to my room so he can recover properly."

"Soap don' need do nothin' but stay righ' here so go bile yer heid'.“ Johnny tries to be indignant. Trying to cross his arms over his chest like a toddler. But it's hard to look mad or intimidating when one arm is still in a sling. You try so hard not to laugh at him.

"Luckily you can't put up much of a fight even if you wanted to." You place your hands on the armrests on either side of Johnny, leaning down and getting eye to eye with him, rocking him towards you just enough to bring his face close to yours, your voice dropping your voice as you tell him "So listen to your fake wife and be a good boy." His face softens, eyes bugging out ever so slightly while you tip the recliner closer to you so you can steal a kiss from his lips and stand up fully, releasing the recliner and letting it rock back and forth a few times.

"Alright, if you boys will kindly take the Soap upstairs, and as a thank you I will make supper."

And with all the protests he can muster, Soap is again lifted from the recliner and taken up to your room, you following close behind after grabbing some pillows from Johnny's room. In your room you toss the pillows on one side while pulling back sheets and blankets and fluffing a few pillows before Johnny gets deposited into your bed by Ghost and Price. You give them each a pat on the shoulder before tending to Johnny and getting him situated

"Ye're gonna be the death of me, hen."

"Good, cause I'd rather it be me than anything else." You grab a pillow and prop up his slinged arm, and another to set his booted foot into a more comfortable position. You find the TV remote and the controller to your gaming system and move them within reach of him.

"No' what I meant, princess." He shifts a little to get his hips better situated, to which you shove yet another pillow under him for more support.

"I said what I said, Mister. I know way more than I should about you and what your job entails, and if I'm the thing that puts you in the ground then I would be ok with that." You then hop up onto the other side of the bed and crawl closer before sitting on your legs.

Soap stares at you for a moment before he remembers to blink again. "Why're ye so good to me, lass?"

You shrug oh so nonchalantly. "Cause you deserve it."

"Do ye have any idea abou' what ye do to me?"

“I’m very aware that I drive you absolutely fucking insane, MacTavish.”

“Are ye? Are ye really?”

You nod. “On top of treating you the way you deserve to be treated, I know waaaay more about you than any civilian probably should.”

“How do ye figure?”

“You were the youngest member to pass the SAS selection. Currently ranking Sergeant of the Task Force 141. You think that tequila tastes like dog piss. You hate dogs, but you have had way too many that have tried to rip your face off while in the military so it can’t be held against you. Your blood type is O positive. Ghost is the only one of the 141 that calls you Johnny. Whenever you think someone has been mistreated or talked down to, you get this little twitch on the left side of your mouth, and your eyes almost go a few shades darker. And with the amount of times you have either been shot, stabbed, or nearly fell to your death, it’s a fucking wonder how the Grim Reaper hasn’t personally shown up to collect you.”

He stares at you incredulously. “I pay attention to things, Johnny. A lot more than you realize. Same goes for John, Simon, and Kyle.”

“Guess I never really though’ -”

“And I don’t expect you to. I don’t expect anything like that from any of you. It’s not what I’m about. I don’t do anything because I expect praise and admiration for it. I do it because I fucking love you guys. And in your own ways, I know you… well, ‘love’ might be a bit strong. You ‘tolerate me immensely’?”

He’s quiet now. Head tilting away from you, eyes shifting. Deep in thought.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to…” You sigh and scootch to the edge of the bed to climb off, going back around to his side and snatching one of your softest blankets, laying it over his legs for now and keeping it in reach of his good arm so he can cover up with it more if he wants to. You then lean over and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Get some rest. Watch some tv, have a nice long nap. I’ll kick your ass at Fornite or whatever later on if you want. I’m gonna head down and start supper. You want anything in particular?”

He slowly shakes his head. Still not looking at you.

Shit. I hit a nerve somewhere. I’m such a fucking idiot.

You nod before making your way towards the door, stopping long enough to look back at him. “If you think of anything you need, let me know?”

And as he nods at you, you leave the room and head off down the stairs, letting him have some peace.

Notes:

I will always love me some OG Johnny, but the reboot is great too. Little bit from both to describe our beloved.

Chapter 9: Soap Scrub

“Up.”

 

“I sai’ I was fine, lass.”

 

“I heard you, and I said ‘Up’.”

 

“Bonnie…”

 

“Johnny…?”

 

“Let me alone.”

 

“I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request.”

 

“...I hate ye, ye know that?”

 

“Yup!"

 

You pull the covers off of him and toss them onto the floor.

 

"There!  Now… get your butt up."

 

"My butt is jus' fine where it is."

 

“Except that my bed is starting to smell like your butt."

 

"Ye don' like the way I smell?"

 

"I like it when you smell like you .  So… up."

 

“Bonnie…”

 

“Johnny?”

 

“You don’ have to help me, ye know.”

 

“I know.  Still going to, though.  Your stitches are out and you are allowed to take your boot off so you can take a proper shower.  Unless you would rather have a bath?  I got some more of them bath bombs that you keep stealing from me."

 

His face reddens slightly when you call him out on swiping your bombs.

 

Is he seriously blushing right now?!

 

"What, you didn't think I noticed?  Kinda hard not to when one of MY favorite bath bombs goes missing.  I have this thing called a sense of smell.  And when someone other than me starts smelling like citrus, it's hard not to notice…"

 

"Been meanin' ta replace those…"

 

"I'm not mad, Bubbles.  Kinda amused, actually.  Something about picturing you all blissed out in that tiny little tub you have in your bathroom, trying to relax…"

 

"So ye've been picturing me naked and now want to see if it lives up to the real thing?  Figures, lass."  There.  Right there.  Gotcha. With that fucking grin.

 

You roll your eyes at him.  "Pretty sure if I wanted to get a look at anything I could have by now.  You've been in my bed long enough."

He mutters, mocking you for a second before letting out a big sigh.  "My tub does get a lil cramped…"

 

"See?  And I'm offering you my tub to enjoy it properly."  You stand off the bed and hold out a hand for him.   "Come on.  Up."

 

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes while grabbing your hand, to which you hang on to him and use yourself as his anchor so he can sit up using his own strength.  You then let go of his hand to help him pivot so his feet are off the bed, helping him scootch forward til his feet are on the floor.  You then stand in between his legs, hoisting his arms up and wrapping them around your shoulders before reaching down and grabbing the waistband of his shorts.

 

"There.  Now, use me to hoist yourself up.  Use them legs of yours, mister."

 

"Don' wanna hurt ye, lass."

 

"You aren't going to hurt me, babes.  I got you, I promise."

 

The skeptical look he gives you makes you smile and stick your tongue out at him.  He rocks his body back and forth on the bed a few times before hoisting himself up to stand, hanging onto you to steady himself.  You widen your stance and plant your feet more firmly onto the floor, making sure he can stand.  Once he gets his own feet planted, you look up at him as he towers over you, smiling and patting his hip.  "Look at you.  Steady yourself for a minute and we'll slowly walk to the bathroom."

 

You can feel him try to not lean against you or use too much of you to steady himself on his feet.  You are having none of that while you place his hands back onto your shoulders before grabbing him by his hips.  You shuffle yourself backwards while he walks towards you to lead him into the bathroom, closing the toilet lid before planting him onto it.  He definitely gets there under much of his own power, barely leaning on you as he walked. 

 

"Perfect.  Great work, Bubbles.  At this rate I don't think you'll need me anymore by next week."  You kneel down and start unstrapping his walking boot, then slowly taking off the compression wrap.  No cast, so he can get everything submerged.  "So it's up to you, but if you think you can get in and out of the tub independently that's cool, otherwise I can get you in and out.  Or I can get one of the guys up here?"

 

"Should be fine..."

 

You nod as you stand to go grab his caddy full of shower things and setting it next to the tub for him, right where he would be able to reach it.  After turning on the faucet and adjusting the water temperature, you go over to the sink and dig in one of the nearby drawers for the bath bomb you know he likes, going over and sitting on the edge of the tub before depositing it into the water and watching it turn a bright orange.  You sit there a moment longer before looking back over at Soap.  

 

How long has he been staring at me like that?

 

"You got it from here, Bubs?"

 

"Recon so.  Only one way to find out."

 

"I'll leave you to it then.  Let me know if you need something?"

 

You shut off the water before you stand and walk over to him, placing a hand under his chin ever so carefully and tilting his face up towards you, leaning down and placing a kiss to his forehead.  You let your hand slide up to his cheek and give it a soft pat pat before letting him go and walking out of the bathroom, glancing back at him with a smile before shutting the door.

---

Ghost was righ’.

 

Gaz was righ’.

 

Even Price was righ’.

 

All fuckin’ three of ‘em.

 

How did they see it?  Was it tha’ obvious ?

 

When did it happen?

 

Maybe a few months ago?  A year?  Sometime around tha' mission before we slept together?  

 

Or maybe since the beginnin'.  Since the first time I saw you.  Carryin' them boxes.  Ye seemed so innocent.  Not too far from the truth.  Maybe I corrupted ye a little.

 

Kind.  Ye've been kind to me.  Always treated me differen'.  Not like most women.  They take one look at me, hear I'm a soldier, and they start sloshin' in their knickers.  Not ye.  Ye showed genuine interest in me .  Asked questions about more than just how much I can lift, or if I was as good in bed as I looked.  You were differen'.  Special.  'ts why I introduced ye to the rest of the team.  Ye were special to me.  Ye've been special to them, too.

 

Ye've always thought ye were beneath us.  'Way out of ye'r league' as ye'd say.  Just because ye weren't one of the team.  Ye've been wrong abou' tha, lass.  So bloody wrong.

 

The ye started dating.  Was jealous.  No' gonna lie.  Simon picked up on tha right away.  Dinna have a righ' to feel that way either.  Dinna make a move on ye, dinna let you in.  Let ye just be my friend.  Our friend.  Ye were so good to us from the start and I dinna wanna fuck with that.  Dinna wanna fuck up what we had.

Gods, they were a right bawbag to ye from the beginning.  Ye didn' see it.  Or ye did and ye ignored it.  Ye dinna think ye deserved better.  Always thinkin' people were above ye.  In reality , ye've always been above everyone else.  Took me way too long to figure tha' out.

 

When I did, ye were so far into the relationship and I had no right to say nothin'.  Had to stand by and watch.  Ye were miserable and ye didn' see it.  They were a right prick and ye looked past it.  Always tryin' te find the good in a person.  Always willin' te change yerself to try an' make others happy.  Even if it didn' make ye happy.

 

Baitin' your ex was too easy.  Knew they were a fuckin' sleazebag.  Knew they'd be all over tha' other girl.  Knew I just had to bide my time to get them pictures.  Knew better than to say they were from me.  Had ta let ye see  jus' tha kind of person they were.

 

Hopin' ye'd fall righ' into my arms.  Ye might've if I didn' have to go on mission right away.  I think ye would've, anyway.  

 

That mission.  Fucked me right up.   I saw ye.  Saw ye get shot.  Held ye as ye bled out.  Only it wasn't ye.  Someone tha' looked a lot like ye.  Had to see ye right away when we got back.  Hold ye.  Damn near though' abou' tellin' ye then.  Wanted to since.  Can't get myself to say it just yet.  Don' wanna fuck up what we have together.  Together….

 

Then I about died.  Got bloody fuckin' close.  Somehow survived.  Almost made it home to ye, but got held up.  I just wanted to get home.  Back to ye.  And to do that, ye had to be my wife.

 

My wife.

 

Figured Ghost had to strong arm ye into it.  Almost tore his head off.  Didn' wan' to put ye in an uncomfortable position.

 

My wife.

 

Wakin' up and seein' ye by me side.  Holdin' my hand.  Tears in your eyes.  My wife .

 

Found out ye went right along with it.  Hardly any protest.  Not protest.  Worry.  That the plan wouldn' work.  That they wouldn' believe ye were my wife.  I suppose that would be hard to believe once they took one look at ye.  No one'd believe someone as fuckin' sexy as ye would ever get with someone with my mug.  

 

Mrs. Mactavish.  Quite like the sound of that.

Ye've rarely left my side since.  Taking care of me.  Never asked for it.  Never expected it.  And here ye are.  Been hard relyin' on ye as much as I've had to.  Never wanted to put that on ye.  Didn' think that through when I just wanted to come home.  Not once have ye complained.  Just doing what needed to be done.  Fuck.  I jus' had to go and fall in love with ye.  And ye've not got a single bloody clue abou' it.  Ye really are gonna be the death of me.

 

"Fuckin' hell, ye bloody fuckin' minx."

---

You look up from the book you started reading, watching the bathroom door for a minute.  Listening.  You swore you heard him say something.  Tossing your book onto your nightstand you walk over to the bathroom door and give a loud knock.  "You need anything in there, Soap?"

 

You hear some water splashing around.

 

"M'fine, hen.  Arm is a bit stiff, hard to wash my hair."

 

"Ah shit, almost forgot about your arm.  You want my help, or should I go find one of the boys?"

 

"Ye don' have t-"

 

"Johnny, you have a towel next to you to cover up your bits.  So either I can help you,  or one of the boys can.  Pick your poison."

 

"Ye can if ye wan', I'm jus' sayin…"

 

You open the door and wait for him to get covered under the water before going over and kneeling beside him.  "There, see?  Now you don't have to worry about me seeing you naked."  You stand before you reach over and turn on the faucet again, grabbing the handheld shower head and wetting down his hair, trying to not splash him in the eyes before shutting the faucet off and sitting on the edge of the tub directly behind him, grabbing his shampoo and squirting a good amount onto his head, tossing the bottle back into the caddy before you start scrubbing his hair.

 

"I can smell the improvement already, Bubbles."

 

"Oi, ye wanna talk to me about smelling?"

 

"I smell fantastic, thanks for noticing!"

 

"Ye're a cheeky lil minx, ye know that?"

 

"It's hard not to be.  I have a big ass, there's a lot of cheek real estate back there."  

 

He tilts his head back and laughs, getting suds from his head onto your shirt.

 

"Didn't know I needed a bathing suit just to give you a bath, MacTavish.  How have you managed showering by yourself?"

 

"Had Ghost strip to his boxers for me when I needed help.  Gaz, too.  Ye can always jus' take your shirt off."

 

You click your tongue while using your fingernails to gently scrub at his scalp.  "Me in my bra would scar you as it is, Johnny.  Not a very appealing sight."

 

"Tha's what you think."

 

"It's what I know, Bubbles.  I'm the one that has to look at myself in the mirror and I can promise you it's not that great."

 

He sighs and shakes his head, visibly biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying something.  You grab the shower head again and scrub the soap from his hair for him, setting it aside once more before grabbing your conditioner from his caddy and putting some on his mohawk and running your fingers through it to spread it to the ends.  "There, now you smell all pretty if you go out with the boys later."

 

"Ye coming with us?"

 

"Don't wanna throw you off your game when you'd be getting back on the saddle.  Though you'd have to start sleeping in your own bed if you brought someone home.  I don't like to share, remember?"  You grab the shower head to rinse out his hair one last time before hooking the shower head back up by the faucet.

 

"Been sharing jus' fine with me."

 

"Yeah, with you .  And just my bed.  Beyond that?  Not a fan of sharing."

 

"What about if ye had a threesome?"

 

"Not happening.  Don't like sharing partners.  Should be obvious there, hon."  You lean down from behind him, kissing his cheek and placing your own against his for a moment.  "Alright.  Head washing done.  You can get the rest?"  

 

He nods and you pat his shoulder, standing with a groan and stretching your back before grabbing him a dry towel, kneeling to adjust the rug by the tub for him to step on.  You smile at him before standing.  "There.  Get out when you are ready?  

 

You walk back towards the door , closing it behind you to leave him alone to get dressed.

Chapter 10: Celebrate

You really don't feel like going out tonight.

 

Yes it's been forever.  Sometime before Soap tried to die on all of you.  You encouraged the other guys to go out when they had the chance though.  You took care of Soap while they went and got sloshed.  You and Johnny would usually go to bed early, maybe watch a movie, sometimes he'd kick ass at Fortnite, and other times he would lay his head on you while you ran around on GTA V, or whatever other random game you decided to throw on and play with.  Sometimes you just laid back to read, and he would cuddle up to you as close as possible while you played with his hair or lightly rubbed his shoulder when it ached.  

 

You were the homebody.  You were content with staying in.

 

But you also knew Johnny was almost vibrating from being stuck inside and not being able to do much of anything and a trip to the pub would do him some good.  If anything, he'd get some huge brownie points and might end up getting laid.  You figure it's part of why he wants to get out so bad.  Before you moved in, he'd bring someone back to his apartment all the time.  You were even wingman for him on occasion.  

 

Another thing your ex hated.  Not exactly sure why, it's not like you ever went home with Johnny.  Ok, there was 1 or 2 times, but Johnny was drunk as a skunk and you deposited him inside his apartment safely once driving him back to the apartment complex and you would go back to your own place after.  And check on him in the morning to make sure his head wasn't pounding too badly from a hangover.

 

The boys could handle Soap.  They could Uber home.  They didn't need you.  They had a better chance at having fun without you.  You knew that.  And you were fine with that to be perfectly honest.  You've always known you are the outsider.

 

But Soap was just not having it.  He's standing in front of you while you are on the bed, laying back on it with your feet hanging off the end, being a little bit of a whiny brat.

 

"Come on lass, 'ts no' the same without ye."

 

"Of course not babes, it's a billion times better without me."

 

"Ye've been cooped up with me for ages, ye could use a break."

 

"But by going out, I'd still somehow end up having to take care of your ass so… how is that a break?"

 

"Oi, ye sayin' ye regret nursin' me back to health?"

 

"I didn't say that at all, Soap.  I'm just saying that I'd rather not harsh your chances at bringing someone home.  You can go out, tell a story of how much of a hero you were digging a mom and her babies out of some terrible situation, and you'll have a line of people just begging for your attention."

 

"Who said I wanted tha'?"

 

"It's been forever since you've been out, so I figured that you'd wa-"

 

He suddenly drops down on top of you, making you gasp from surprise.  He's holding himself above you with both of his hands on each side of your stomach, one knee on the bed between your legs, scowling down at you.  "Ye're right, 'ts been forever since I've been out, and I'm asking ye to come out wit' me because I want ye to."

 

Your hands have made their way to his hips, holding him up and off of you, just in case his arm gives out from supporting his weight.  You shake your head a little, biting the inside of your cheek and staring up at him.  "You know you aren't obligated to ask me to go anywhere with you just because I've helped you when you needed it, Soap."

 

"Not why I want ye to come with me to the pub."'

 

You frown a little, hoisting yourself up into your elbows so your top half is closer towards his face, searching it for… something in those bright blue eyes of his.

 

"Then why ?"

 

"Because it won' be any fun without ye being there."

 

You study his face a little more.  He's being genuine right now.  He really does want you to go out.  Your eyes drop to his lips, staring at them a moment. 

 

I really could just lean in and kiss him right now… No.  Don't be dumb.  Don't make it weird.

 

The corner of your mouth tilts up in a half smile, looking back into his eyes.  

 

Fuck… how do I say no to that face..?

 

"Fine.  Just for a little while.  I'm just saying though, you wear your arm in the sling and you'll be swarmed by women wanting to be your personal nurse for the night."

 

"Ye're a brat, you know this righ'?"

 

"And you still want me to go out to the pub with you?"

 

"I do.  Wonder what that says about me."

 

He leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips before climbing off of you and the bed, making his way to the stairs.  "Get dressed, meet us downstairs in a half hour."

 

You sit up fully, watching as he grabs the railing and works his way down the steps.  Once you see he has made it down them, you lay down again and sigh.  Fuck …

---

You change into a long sleeve v-neck shirt and some leggings, opting for comfort more than sexy.  You were just going to the pub with the guys and not in the mood to attract unwanted attention on a normal day.  You were especially not in any mood for it today.  You weren't sure why you felt this way, but it's there.

 

You offered to drive, but were out voted.  As usual.  They wanted you to be able to drink too and have a chance to relax and have fun.  You might have a beer or two.  You don't really drink much as it is, so more than that wouldn't be the best idea.  An Uber pulls up to the house to pick you all up.  You all pile in, with Soap being next to you.  He grabs your hand with a smile after buckling in.  You smile back up at him.

 

He's moving around great tonight.  Wonder if that's new or if he's been able to for a while now and just hammed up needing my help.  Guess he's definitely graduated to go sleep in his own bed now.  Probably misses the hell out of it.

 

You get dropped off outside the bar, cursing yourself as you rub at your arms.  You didn't even think to bring your jacket.  Ah well.  You most likely would have left it behind anyway.  You'll survive the night.

 

You bring up the rear of the bunch getting inside, Price having found a table off in the corner.  You end up next to the wall, Johnny sitting next to you, Price and Gaz across the table, and Ghost grabs an extra chair to sit at the end.  

 

"Shots for the table!  I'm buying!"  Gaz yells at the bartender, pointing at himself.

 

"You called for the shots, Gaz.  'Course you are payin'."  Price slaps him on the shoulder.

 

Shots… greeaaat…

 

Bartender brings over the shots, setting them down and walking off.  Gaz immediately drains his glass and walks away from the table.  You slide yours over towards Soap.  He arches his brow at you.  "Come on hen, have a shot with us."

 

"Nah, you should have two Johnny, be a good way to break your liver back in to drinking.  It's been so long I think you forgot how to."

 

Ghost reaches over and slides your glass back in front of you.  "Drink."

 

You scowl at Ghost, which just brings a smile out from behind the mask.  "You aren't being very helpful to my cause, Simon."

 

"And what cause is that, love?"

 

"Get Soap drunk, 'cause he really needs it right now?"

 

Price shakes his head while downing his glass quickly.  "Don't mind me, gonna go see about a proper drink."  He pats the table before standing and walking over to the bar.

 

Ghost pushes your glass even closer to you.

 

"Aren't you supposed to be setting some example for your team?"

 

"Maybe.  'Cept I'm off duty."

 

You roll your eyes and down the shot quick, wincing at it a little.  You really aren't much of a drinker.

 

"There, drink down.  Happy?"

 

Soap reaches over and pats you on the top of the head.  "Good girl."  He finally downs his own shot and grins down at you.  Gaz comes back to the table carrying a couple random concoctions, setting one in front of you, and the other he keeps for himself.

 

"What is this?"

 

"I dunno, told one of the bartenders to surprise me.  So surprise?"  Says Gaz, taking the straw and having a sip.  "I'm not sure there's any alcohol in this."

 

You again try to slide your glass off to Johnny.  "Believe tha' belongs to ye, lass."

 

"This was supposed to be to celebrate you, how can that happen when you are severely lacking in the drink department?"

 

Price comes back, setting down a glass in front of Soap, Ghost, and then himself.  Of course.  Soap looks over at you with a grin and lifting his glass.  "Look at tha', saved by the bourbon."

 

You smile and shake your head, finally having a sip of whatever it was Gaz got you.  He's right.  Doesn't taste like alcohol at all.

---

 

You are over at the pool table with Ghost, watching as he sinks ball after ball into each pocket.  You stand there, swaying just a little while you watch.  That drink apparently had quite a lot of alcohol in it and you are feeling it.

 

Ghost finally misses, stepping away from the table and gesturing that it's yours now.  "You know I can't play pool to save my soul, right?"

 

"Why do you think I asked you to play, love?"

 

You snirk, looking around at the table for a moment before finding a shot you might make.  You bend down over the table, lining up your cue with the white ball and take a shot.  You bounce one of the solid balls right off the very corner of the pocket and sink the white ball.  You lay your head on the table with a groan.  "Way to take advantage of the light weight, Ghost."

 

He chuckles while you step back from the table, watching him go shot for shot again.

 

While waiting off to the side and leaning on your pool cue, a random guy comes and stands beside you, musing for a moment.  "Your boyfriend not gonna teach ya how to play?"

 

You side-eye the guy for a moment.  "My friend is just having some fun with me.  He knows I suck at the game.  He just wanted an easy win."

 

"What else is easy when it comes to you?"

 

Gross.

 

"Darts.  Never have me on your team.  If you look at the wall around the dart board, you'll see a lot of little holes all around it.  Good number of them are from me."

 

Ghost comes up in front of you, giving the other guy a very hard, stony look.  Impressive when he has the mask on.  Downright terrifying.  "Your turn, love."

 

You step forward, mouthing a thank you towards Simon while looking at what he left you.  A mess.  A pure fucking mess.  You stalk around the table again, trying to see if you can line up anything.  You see some opening, and lean over the table, lining up your cue, about to take a shot…

 

Until the guy pipes up.  "You know your stance is all wrong, you really shouldn't try to lean over so far."  He has taken a few steps in your direction, laying his pool cue along the side of the table you aren't shooting from.  Ghost stands up straighter, about to pounce on him for you.

 

Until you feel an arm wrap around your waist and pull you against their very warm, solid body, making your entire body clench.  You gasp and tilt your head to look, ready to punch whoever just put their fucking hands on you.

 

Johnny.  It's just Johnny.  You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relaxing with him.

 

"Take a step back lass, ye don't have to lay on the table to try and make the shot.  See, like this."

 

He pulls you back into him a little, having you change your stance.  From the corner of your eye you see the other guy clenching his fists.  You look at Johnny more with a smile.  "How's this, am I doing it right?"

 

"Much better.  Now hold the cue more like this and ye've got it."  While still half over you he helps adjust your hand and your stick.  You start to line up your shot again and take it.  Much to your surprise, you actually sink the stupid ball into the pocket.

 

You tilt your head and plant a big kiss onto Johnny's cheek.  "Care to show me that again, handsome?"  You have to bite the inside of your cheek hard to keep yourself from smirking, watching as the guy angrily picks up his stick and walks back to where his friends were standing.

 

You and Johnny stand up then, turning to him and patting him gently on the cheek.  "Thanks for saving me, Bubbles."

 

"Anytime, lass."  He takes your hand from his cheek, lifting it and planting a kiss to the back of it oh so softly.  Your stomach flutters and you feel like you could just about melt from how sweet of a gesture it was.

 

Calm down, dumb dumb.  You should probably back off on the alcohol.

 

Unfortunately for you, Gaz comes up to you with another surprise drink and hands it off to you, clinking his glass to yours and taking a long sip from the straw.  One more won't hurt.  You look between Gaz, Ghost, and Soap while you take a drink.  "Anyone up for a game of darts?"

---

You are losing.  Miserably of course.  You got teamed up with Price.  Probably because he isn't all that great at the game either.  At least he hits the board.  Gaz and Ghost are teamed together.  Johnny has moved to a table closer to all of you to watch.  "Always up for a laugh when hen tries to play anything but video games!"

 

You are trying ever so desperately to line up your shot.  Some dick head decided to make the dart board all blurry though.  Oh wait…  You take a throw and somehow hit the board.  Except it's outside the playing area.  Miss.  Shit.  

 

You turn to say something to Soap but see him talking to some girl.  She was stroking one of his biceps, smiling sweetly at him.  Johnny was… hmm.  He doesn't seem too amused.  Normally he eats that sort of attention up.  The charmer, the endless flirt, that fucking grin plastered to his face for the night when he is in his zone.  His small little touches and fluttering of his fingers over skin to make you wish there was more.  Doesn't seem like that tonight.  Maybe he really is out of his game.  Maybe you should have been his wingman for the night.  Maybe…

 

Somehow it's your turn again.  You go stand on the masking tape line on the floor which has been scuffed and ripped to a point where you can barely tell that it's supposed to be the line for the dart board.  You shake your arms out, crack your neck from side to side, and go to line up your dart to the board.

 

The guy from the pool table earlier comes up and stands off to the side of you, arms crossed and watching.  You ignore him while tossing your first dart.  10 points.  Ok.

 

"You got your stance all wrong again."  You don't even bother to look over at him, taking another shot.  Miss.  Damnit.

 

"You want me to show you?" He asks, taking another step closer.

 

"No."  Ok, last shot.

 

He goes to take the final steps to clear the distance between you.  "It's really not that hard.  Here, let me j-"

 

Before you can turn to him to tell him to back the fuck away from you, Johnny has put himself between you, yelling something you didn't quite understand towards the guy.  Ghost and Price have grabbed the guy by the shoulder and are pulling him, sending him back towards his friends.

 

You look up at Soap while he stares down that guy with his intense blue eyes, his shoulders heaving slightly from breathing harder.  You place your hand on his cheek and have him turn his head to look down at you.  When he does, his face softens a little.  Glancing up when Ghost and Price walk back towards the both of you.

 

Knew I should have stayed home.  Son of a me.

 

You keep looking up at Soap, your thumb making small circles against his cheek until he calms down.  You take his other hand and lead him back towards the table.  The girl hanging on him from before seems to have abandoned her post.  

 

Well now I just feel awful and stupid.

 

Gaz joins you, followed by Ghost and Price.  You stand there quietly, having another sip of your now very watered down drink.  Guilt is starting to eat at you.  You set your drink back on the table, smiling and smacking Gaz in the arm.  Gotta bring back morale.  "Anyone know who won?"

 

"Sure as well wasn't us, love."  Price looks down at you with a half smile.  It's working.  "Hey, we could snuck up from behind!  Somehow.  Maybe?"

 

"Oh don't listen to him, you and Price make the perfect team.  You know how to lose better than the rest of them."  Gaz giggles out from his ever so punchable face.  You wouldn't hurt him by any means, but a good smack might make you feel better.

 

"Alright lads… and lady.  Think we're done here.  Time to go home."  Ghost says while ordering you all a ride home.

 

---

 

After piling out of the Uber as it arrives back home, you get up the stairs first and get the door unlocked.  Johnny sorta leaning over on Gaz while coming up the stairs.  Poor guy must have over exerted himself.  

 

You shut the door behind you once everyone is inside.  Then you go into the kitchen and turn on the light, hissing like a vampire getting exposed to the sun from the brightness.  You grab some water bottles from the fridge, shutting the light off behind you and going to the living room where everyone is sitting.  Except Soap.

 

You toss out the water bottles, setting Soap's down on the table for now before cracking yours open and holding it up in a toast.  "Hail hydrate."  You take a good long drink from your bottle, downing half of it before coming up for air.  "Where'd Bubbles go?"  You ask no one in particular.

 

"Think he went off to bed already" offers Gaz, as he stands up from the couch and stretches.  "I'm off too"  He makes his way up the stairs with a slight wave, followed by Ghost and Price not long after.

 

You go to Soap's closed bedroom door and knock.  No answer.  You knock a little louder.  Nothing.  You go over to the bathroom and see the door is open and the light is off.  Poor baby.  Must have absolutely wore himself out.  You leave the water bottle next to his door, not wanting to wake him.  You then make your way up the creaky stairs and off to your room.  

 

You push your door closed after walking into your room.  You then walk over to your closet, taking your shirt off and tossing it in the direction of the rest of your dirty clothes.  You then take your bra off and hang it off a hook inside the closet before bending down, peeling your leggings off your legs and kicking them in the direction of the abyss of dirty clothes, keeping just your underwear on.   You dig around for a moment and find a huge baggy shirt that goes down to just above your knees.  You had cut off the neck of it ages ago so it wasn’t so tight.  Your preferred pajamas.  You had been trying to be a bit more modest with Johnny being in your room, and just wanted to be comfortable right now.

 

You toss the shirt over your head, pulling it down and adjusting to get it settled and in place before shutting the door to your closet, sidestepping to walk into your bathroom.  You look at yourself in the mirror above the sink for a moment.  You look tired.  Little worn down.  Probably just the copious amounts of alcohol Gaz fed you tonight.  You quickly brush your teeth and splash some water on your face as if that'll help something.  With a huge yawn you make your way out of the bathroom, shutting the light off and pulling the door half closed behind you before you turn to go crawl into bed.

 

Instead you let out a scream before clamping your hand over your mouth.

 

Soap is in your bed.

 

Soap.  Is in.  Your bed.  Sitting up and leaning against a stack of pillows.  

 

Your bedroom door bursts open, Ghost standing there with his pants pulled up but undone, mask pulled on haphazardly and covering more of his eyes than it should, with a knife in hand, looking around the room before looking over at Soap before settling his eyes on you.  "You alright, love?  What's happened?"

 

"Nothing.  Sorry.  So sorry.  Didn't mean to scream.  Was just startled is all."

 

Ghost relaxes a bit, looking around one last time before shaking his head, grabbing the door handle and walking back out of your room.  "G'night you two."  He shuts it behind him, and you can hear him telling Gaz and Price things are fine.  Once you hear the shutting of three separate doors, you whirl around and look at Soap.  He has that stupid shit eating grin on his face.

"How long have you been sitting there?!"  You keep your voice down, but still have enough volume to it.  Flustered, frustrated, and a bit embarrassed.

 

"Long enough, lass."

 

"Long enough for what, MacTavish?!"

 

"I dinna see anythin' I wasn' supposed to, hen.  Ye had ye're back to me the whole time. "

 

" Why are you in my bed, I thought you were down in your own room."

 

With that he gives a little shrug, looking down at his hands while playing with the corner of the top blanket he's covered in.  Almost looking embarrassed.  "Been sleepin' so well I figured ye wouldn' mind if I stayed in yer bed a while longer'."  He looks up at you again sheepishly.  "Tha' alrigh'?"

 

Your shoulders relax finally.  You didn't realize how tense you were in that moment.  You sigh, bringing your hands up and rubbing your face and eyes.  "Yes of course that's alright, silly."  Dropping your hands to your sides and placing them on your hips, you stare at him a moment.  

 

"Just so you know, I'm not changing out of this."

 

"I think I can handle tha'."

 

"And I'm not putting on pants."

 

You swear you almost hear him swallow hard.  "Course no', ye make the rules for yer bed."

 

"You keep your pants on though."

 

"Absolutely, lass."

 

You go over to your side of your bed, pulling back the covers and sheets.  You grab one of the spare water bottles you always keep at your bedside, cracking the top open and handing it off to Soap.  "Better hydrate, buddy."  

 

Once he takes the bottle you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up over yourself and laying on your side with your back to him.  You are getting so tired you nestle down into your pillows.  A moment later you feel Johnny lay down finally, an arm sliding around your stomach and pulling you backwards.  

 

Too tired.  Can't protest.   

 

You press back into him, pulling his arm tighter around yourself and settling in.  Tilting your head and leaving a lingering kiss to what you think is his cheek before laying back down into the pillow.  Lightly running your fingers over the back of his arm.  Touching over his scars gently with your fingertips.  Sleep is so close.  Pulling you under.

 

Something from earlier in the night pops into your head.  "Johnny?" 

 

  Stay awake.  Focus.

 

"Yes, princess?"

 

"Did you tell that guy I was your wife…?"

 

You feel him tense up behind you.  He mumbles something.  Only you are too tired to understand.  And fast asleep before you can ask him about what he said.

Chapter 11: Morning After

Notes:

I survived another trip around the sun, so you get another chapter from me! And that is the extent of any celebration. Enjoy it.

Ye didn’ notice me when ye came into the bedroom.  Ye're room.  Our room.

 

Ye looked knackered.  Plum tuckered out.  Felt a little guilty I asked ye to come out with us.  But I wanted ye there.  Needed ye there.

 

Ye stood in your closet to undress.  I did look away.  At first.  Can't blame a man for that, yea?  What a fuckin' beaut of a sight.  Wished ye had turned around for me.

 

Though' for sure ye were jus' ignoring me 'cause of what I yelled at that prick.  Lucky for him Price and Ghost got him away from me.  Woulda caved his face in if he touched ye.  Almost did it the first time he tried.  Him jus' thinkin' abou' touchin' ye set me ablaze

 

Was thinkin' of all the ways to torture him before ye started screamin'.  Almost scared the hell outta me.  Took me a second to realize ye were screamin' cause of me.  Not exactly the way I ever pictured ye screamin'.  Then Ghost came in with a knife.  Poor bastard prolly though' there was an intruder.  Bet he won' be sleepin' much after tha'.  Surprised Gaz and Price didn' barge in too.  Bunch a Stooges them.

 

Fuckin' hell.  Where's that shirt been this whole time?  Ye've kept pretty covered up when I've been up here with ye, but this?  Coulda damn near cried at the sight of it.  And ye were still a wee bit too drunk to change.  Or care.  Hells fuckin' bells, aren't I the lucky one.

 

Ye got settled in, I pulled ye close, and was about to kiss ye're cheek when you kissed my lips instead.  Not sure ye knew where ye were kissin' me.  Fuck me, I coulda died a happy man right then and there.

 

Probably should have.  Cause then ye asked me…

 

"Did you tell that guy I was your wife…?"

 

Couldn’t think straight. Didn’ know what to say.

 

Until I jus' admitted to it.  I tried to even explain it to ye.  

 

Ye were asleep before I could get it out.

 

Thanked every deity out there that ye didn’t hear what I had said.  And prayed to them that you would forget about it by morning.

 

Fuckin' hell, lass.  Ye'll be the death of me yet…

 

---

 

The first thing you are aware of as you start to break back into the realm of consciousness is your head throbbing.  You don’t usually drink to avoid these sort of things.  But last night was the exception, not the rule.  Secondly, you notice the lack of being crushed by Soap, as that had become the new normal once he had healed enough. 

 

You slowly open your eyes, the light shining in from the windows being a whole lot brighter than you are used to.  Soap is laying in front of you.  Almost nose to nose.  Still fast asleep.  

 

Your leg is hiked up and bent over his hip.  His hand is holding you by the crook of your knee, keeping your leg in place.  Your shirt has migrated up off of your legs and pooled itself by your hips.  His own shirt seems to have disappeared in the night.  His arm is tucked under his pillow, laying across and having tucked itself under your pillow as well.  One of your hands draped over his side, hand splayed over his skin.

 

You stare at him, watching his face as he breathes in and out.  Fighting the urge to nuzzle the tip of your nose against his.  It’s probably best you don’t.  You are pretty sure your morning breath is gnarly right now, even after having brushed your teeth before you went to bed.  

 

Guess now I know what it’s like to wake up to Soap after a night of drinking.  He looks so… peaceful.  Adorkable.  Handsome.  Kissa- alright we may still be a little drunk.  Stop it, you.  

 

You care about Soap.  He's one of your boys.  He's one of your favorites.  Your favorite .  Yours.   A dangerous thing to really stop and think about.  The very last thing you would want to do is fuck up your relationship with him.  You like living with him.  Spending time with him.  In the weeks since he came home from the hospital, you have grown used to him being in your bed.  Even though you know at some point he will return to his own room, and sleep in his own bed, you are going to miss waking up and having him there by you.  

 

Don’t think about it.  Can’t think about it.  Might start crying if you dwell on it too much.  

 

You aren't being completely honest with yourself.  You love him.  With every fiber of your being.  As much as you tried not to.  As much as you have tried stuffing your feelings down inside.  Trying so fucking hard to ignore it.  Outright deny it.  You definitely can't admit it to him.  Especially after…

 

Last night.  Something happened last night.  That stupid guy.  What was it that Soap said to him?  

 

Looking him over some more, you reach up and lightly play with the hair of his mohawk.  Just about due for a trim by his standards.  One of your favorite lengths by yours.  It’s got the tinyest bit of a curl at the ends.  It's so cute to just lightly pull them straight and watch them bounce back.  You guess, in a way, you are lucky that he likes having his hair played with.  Helps calm him, he says.  And you like playing with it.   You like that you are able to calm him.  Ground him in a way.  You lightly run your fingernails over the side of his head where his hair is shortest, scratching his scalp oh so carefully.  Something else you know he enjoys.

 

With a very heavy sigh, you decide that you had best get up and do something about your head.  You could just wake his ass and tell him to let you go so you can get up.  But that just seems way too mean, and he’s sleeping so peacefully right now that you almost hate to disturb him.  Instead, you slowly move your hand down to his that has a hold of your leg and start prying yourself from his grasp.  Outright grabbing it and just lifting it off of you wasn’t the way to go apparently.  He tightened his grip on your leg and pulled you even closer to him, your hips pressing against him.  You wait for him to settle in before you try again.  Sliding his hand out from behind your knee, letting it glide up over your thigh until you can tuck his hand onto his stomach while lifting your leg off of him,  rolling onto your back to pry the rest of you away from him so you can sit up.  

 

You just about have yourself untangled from him when a still half asleep Soap rolls on top of you, hands grabbing onto your waist and pinning you beneath him, lips ghosting over your neck before planting a couple very soft and gentle kisses to your lips before he asks “Where do ye think ye’re going, beautiful?”  Your body and other certain parts of you completely stiffen under him while you swallow hard.

 

“Uhhh… J-Johnny?”

 

His eyes flash open as he lifts his head up to look down at you.  You get to see his whole face start to turn red before he buries his face into your neck with embarrassment after the realization of what just happened settles in.  You hear a very muffled “ FUCKING hell” out of him.  You lightly pat his back, biting your lip so hard you almost draw blood from trying to hard not to laugh and embarrass him further.

 

“’I’m really, really sorry hon, I should have woke you up instead of just trying to sneak off.”

 

He lifts his head and looks at you, face still red but staring you down hard.  “Oi, don’ ye dare apologize to me for tha’, ye did nothin’ wrong.”  

 

“Still. Night full of alcohol, you and me, that’s just uncharted territory and I should have warned you?”

 

He sighs, burying his forehead into your neck to hide his face again.  You tilt and rest your cheek on top of his head while he says against your neck “I'm the sorry one, hen.  Forgo’ I was in bed wit’ ye for a moment.”

 

You tilt and softly kiss the top of his mohawk before you make the attempt to sit up again.  “No harm done, babes.  This stays between you and me.  Promise.  At least you weren't rucking it with Simon on a mission and had this happen?”  You slide out of your bed and head to your closet, finding a clean pair of leggings to slide into, having to do the awkward 'hop hop' and wiggle to get them over your hips and ass.  Not exactly caring that Johnny is watching very intently right now.  “Gonna head down, find some Tylenol to maybe do something about this stupid headache, and think about finding something to eat.”

 

“Sounds perfect.  I'll meet ye down there.”

 

“You sure?  I can wait for you if you want.”  You bend down in your closet, finding a light cardigan to toss on over your arms before turning back to him.

 

“Ye go on ahead.”

 

You smile at him and nod, making your way down stairs and hearing him mutter to himself.

 

Poor handsome baby...

Chapter 12: Going Back

When Johnny first started going back to base, you encouraged it.  Knew he needed it.  It was light duty anyway.  Nothing major.

 

When he went back into training, you were fine with it.  Again, encouraging.  He needed to get his strength back.  And not long into it he was in charge of training the recruits.  Easy peasy.

 

When he went on comms during missions?  Perfect.  He was good at what he did, not even you could deny that.  And while he couldn't go out into the field and be beside them, he could at least be in their ears and help guide them.

 

Now… now he's been cleared.  He can go out on missions again.  Right where he wants to be.  Where he says he needs to be.  Rolling out sometime tomorrow.

 

And you fucking hate it.

 

Hate.

 

Hate is such a strong word.

 

You typically dislike things.

 

You understand the job. More than you probably should, pieced together information from over the years.  You had thought you had come to terms with it years ago.  Perturbed by it mostly.  But understood.

 

This?  The only way to describe it anymore is by using the word ‘hate’.

 

You. Fucking.  HATE THIS.

 

Seeing him in that hospital room.  Breaking him out to bring him home.  Nursing him back to health.  Being there for him in just about every physical and psychological aspect that you possibly could be for him.  Making sure he is healed.  Him being attached to your hip for months.

 

All so he can run headlong back into it.  Back into the danger.  Back into duty.  Back to most likely being hurt.  Back to the possibility of never coming home.  

 

And you have to be all bubbly and positive about it because you aren't allowed to fall apart in front of the boys.  That's your own rule.  Don't out your feelings to them.  They have enough shit to worry about.  They don't need to worry about you, too.

 

Price, Ghost, and Gaz are sitting on bar stools and leaning against the island countertop in the kitchen.  They had all shown up to take Soap back to base to wait for orders to move out.  You have the coffee pot spewing out it's brew and the kettle has just finished boiling.  You set them both within the mens’ reach along with the tea bags and a few mugs so they can decide what they would like before you go back to the stove to finish off breakfast.  Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and french toast.  Lots of protein and a little something sweet.

 

You pile food onto each plate before setting each one in front of them.  Ghost has his eyes on you.  Gaz is busy with his phone.  Price has the local newspaper spread open with his nose buried into it.  Ghost gets his mug and pours hot water from the kettle, dipping his tea bag into it before his eyes are back on you.  You can only imagine what he is thinking.  You stick your tongue out at him playfully.  That at least gets a smile out of him.  Even if it is covered by his balaclava.

 

Turning back to the stove, you grab one more plate and pile the rest of the food on top of it before setting it at the empty spot on the counter.  Soap hasn't come to the kitchen yet.  You left him in your bed at 1am with him sound asleep.  You had tried to sleep but you were too wound up.  You even tried sleeping on the couch, trying to put a little distance between you.  And still sleep evaded you.  Too deep inside your head.  So you've been awake.  Putzing around the house.  Cleaning here and there to keep yourself busy.  Eventually deciding you had best get breakfast made for the boys.  A good meal before sending them off to make sure they have been fed well before having to go out.  Which, not being a morning person on your best days, putting the effort into making them breakfast on zero sleep was a feat all in itself.

 

You gather the pans from the stove and shove them into the sink to soak, finally hearing Soap bound down the steps and land heavily at the bottom of them.  Just from the sound of it, he's got his boots on and is in his tac gear.  Giddy.  Like a kid going to their first day of school.  You look back long enough to smile at him before turning back to the dishes.  Soap apparently has smacked Gaz on the back, since you hear an “Oi!” from him.  

 

You busy yourself around the kitchen while the four of them eat their breakfast.  Soap shoveling it down like there is some sort of a race.  Not paying much attention to anything but the plate in front of him.

 

“Not joining us, love?”  Price has apparently put the newspaper down, noticing your absence as he starts eating.  You plaster a smile onto your face, turning to them and shaking your head.  “I'm not hungry.  More for you guys to scarf down.”  You get your preferred form of caffeine intake and lean against a far corner of the kitchen, watching them.  

 

Ghost has his eyes on you again.  You raise an eyebrow at him, almost as if to ask him if he needs something.  He returns your look with his own eyebrow raise.  With an eye roll that just about lets you see the back of your skull, you push yourself away from the counter with your hips while setting down your mug and walking to the back door.  You stop just long enough to throw on a jacket before stepping outside onto the deck, mumbling that you'd be back soon as you shut the door.  

 

It's chilly.  Not too cold, but definitely not warm.  You reach back and flip the hood of your jacket up over your head and walk over to one of the loungers.  Sitting down you cross your legs at the ankle and make your arms crossed over your stomach.  Looking out towards the trees that surround the property.  One of your favorite things about living out here.  The calmness.  The quiet.  You close your eyes for a moment, just letting it all sink in.  The lack of sleep starting to catch up to you.  Breath starting to slow.  Body relaxing.  So… peaceful…

 

Until you are startled back to reality by the sound of the back door opening and shutting, boots stomping across the wood of the deck and stopping right next to your lounger.  A little tap tap of their boot to the leg of your chair and you uncross your legs, sliding them up and scrunching your knees up by your chest.  You know exactly who it is without even looking.

 

Simon sits down where your legs were, handing you one of the cups of tea he has in his hands.  You grab the cup from him, pulling your hood back just enough to get a better look at him and to be able to drink easier.  He lifts the bottom of his balaclava, blowing on his tea before taking a sip.  Not looking at you, but taking a liking to the tree line as well.

 

“Y’alright, dove?”

 

You nod, putting on your fake smile in case he does happen to look at you.  You find smiling while talking helps project a better mood anyway, even if you aren't exactly feeling it.  “Yeah, don't mind me.  Didn't sleep, and mornings are the bane of my existence.”

 

“That it?”

 

“Mmhmm.”  You finally take a small drink of tea, testing the warmth of it.  Not hot enough to burn your tongue off, but still pretty warm.

 

“Liar.”

 

You look over your cup at him, biting on your bottom lip to not bring on too much snark.  “I seriously haven't slept yet, Si.”

 

He turns to face you more.  Almost a scowl on his face.  If you didn't know better, you might think it was a look of worry under that mask.

 

“Somethings buggin’ ya.”  Not a question.  A statement of fact.

 

You shrug, grabbing the tea bag still in the cup and playing with the string a little.  “Careful, big boy.  Someone might hear you and think you actually care about me and my feelings, and that is a whole can of worms right there.”

 

A slight chuckle while he takes another drink from his cup.  You take the opportunity to do the same.  You aren't usually a fan of hot tea.  But the mere fact that Simon made you a cup to have with him?  You'd feel rude to say no to the gesture.

 

“Might say you've grown on me a bit.  Never admit to it.”

 

“‘Course not.  Secret is safe with me.  Too many places to hide my corpse out here if I did try to tell anyone.”

 

That got an actual laugh from him, and he turned away to hide his face from you to do so.

 

He goes quiet now.  Letting you stew and mull it over.  Despite Ghost being aloof with you all this time, the fact that he is actually showing concern for you is touching.  If you thought about it too much, you could cry over it.  You blame the lack of sleep for that.  You also blame it for the word vomit.

 

“Seeing you all leave here perfectly fine, only to return in any sort of state different than when you left is just heartbreaking.  Nursing all of you back to health, and as soon as you are able you are halfway across the world putting yourself right back into danger.  And the only thing I can do in any of this is love and support all of you from afar, and hope that you all come back through these doors alive.”

 

Ghost tilts a bit to look towards you.  Not fully turned to still hide some of his face and drink his tea.  When he says nothing, you continue.

 

“But I worry.  Even your ornery ass.  And you can roll your eyes at me all you want Simon Riley , but it's true.  And after what happened to Johnny, it's just that much harder not to think about what you guys deal with out there.  And the realization of just how helpless I am just blows.  I'm well aware you don't need me coddling you all like children.  You are grown ass men who have taken care of yourselves and survived without me eons before I had to come along and fuck up dynamics.”

 

“You haven't fucked up anything, dove.”

 

You sigh and rub your hand over your face.  Trying to wipe away the drowsiness from your brain.  The sleepiness from your eyes.  The tears that have snuck down the corners of your eyes and down your face before Simon notices.  

 

“I just want you all to be safe.”

 

Ghost scoots himself closer to you on the lounger, placing a hand on top of your knee and giving it a light squeeze.  “I'll bring him home, dove.”

 

You move your hand and place it on top of his, grabbing at his fingers and holding his hand where it is.  “Need all of you to come home, Si.  I voted, so it's totally legit.  I'll fake marry all of you if I have to just to make it happen.”

 

“Dunno if that'd be allowed.  Johnny'd be jealous.”

 

You laugh at that.  Shaking your head and having a drink from your tea that has cooled significantly.  “Johnny would be just fine.”

 

“He loves you, dove.”

 

“I know he does.”

 

Ghost frowns at you, setting his now empty cup aside and pulls his balaclava back down, tucking it under his chin.  “You know?”

 

You finish your tea and nod at him, setting your own cup off to the side and wrapping your arms around your legs.  “Of course I know.  In your own different ways, I know we all have a certain understanding of each other.  I love the hell out of all of you, and you all tolerate me.” 

 

“You heard what he said at the bar.  There's more to it.”

 

You tilt your head a little, studying what parts of his face you can see.  “What did he say in the bar?”

 

“You heard him, dove.”

 

“If I heard, I wouldn’t be asking you about it?”

 

He shakes his head and looks away from you before he stands “You’ll have to ask Johnny then.”

 

You groan, running your hand over your face again.  “Ya’ll are impossible sometimes.”

 

He looks back at you.  He’s smiling under that stupid mask.

 

You are about to ask him again before you hear the door opening.  You move your legs and swing them off the side of the lounger to see Johnny poking his head out.  “Oi, we're heading out soon L.t.”

 

You reach over and grab Ghost's cup before he can get to it, then grab your own before standing.  Ghost pats you on the shoulder before he walks past Soap and heads inside.  You go to follow before Johnny shuts the door quickly and stands in the way, looking down at you.  “Ye alrigh’?”

 

You nod, giving him a very tired and sleepy smile while doing so.  “Just peachy, Soap.”

 

“Ye sure abou’ that?”  He reaches towards your face and runs a finger over your wet cheek.  Apparently you didn't get all the tears earlier.

 

“I'm ok.  Just really tired is all.  Didn't sleep at all.”  You go to move around him to head inside and he steps back to stop you again, lightly taking your chin and tilting your head to make you look up at him.  He's staring at you, trying to find something on your face.  Failing miserably at the moment.  You try to smile reassuringly up at him. 

 

He finally lets your face go and pulls you into a hug, burying his face against the top of your head and sighing.  You awkwardly wrap your arms around him the best you can, since both hands have a cup in them at the moment.  You pull back just enough to look up at him.  “Time to roll out, big boy.”

 

With a slight chuckle he fully moves away, opening the door and holding it for you, letting you go ahead of him.  You set the cups next to the sink and wash your hands.  The others are collecting their things and heading out the front door.  Gaz comes around into the kitchen to grab onto you for a quick hug.  “We’ll be back before you know it, little miss.”

 

“Be safe.  Now get the hell out of here before I go Annie Wilkes on all ya’ll.”

 

Gaz lets you go and gives you a confused look.  “Who the hell is Annie Wilkes?”

 

“Kathy Bates?  Misery?”

 

Gaz just looks more confused.

 

“Long story short, she breaks the legs of her favorite author with a sledgehammer to hold him captive and forces him to write a book.  I’d just break your legs so I could keep you all here and not have to worry about you as much.  We can always watch it when you get back?”  You hand Price his hat off of the counter, where he gives you an appreciating nod before placing it on his head and follows Ghost out the door.  Gaz is right behind them.

 

Soap comes up to you and lifts you off of your feet into a tight hug.  You wrap your arms around his neck, mostly to hang on so he doesn't drop you.  But also because you are afraid this might be the last time you get to hug him, and that scares the shit out of you more than anything.  He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  Almost like he's basking in your scent for one last minute.

 

“Do we have a sledgehammer?”  You ask, with a hint of a smile into the question.

 

“No, but I have a feelin’ we will by the time we get back.”

 

You giggle, wiggling your feet since he still has you hanging.  “You might be right.”

 

One of them beeps the horn of the Jeep to get Soap’s attention.  You would guess that it was Simon.  Soap grumbles something before finally placing you back onto your feet.  He tries to stand back up fully, but you hang on for a minute longer.  “Be safe?”

 

“I’ll try my best for ye.”

 

You finally unwrap your arms from him, but instead of letting him go you grab him by the back of his neck and gently pull him back towards you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, delicate kiss before slowly pulling away, biting your lip as your face turns bright red while looking up at him for just a moment before one side of your lip curls up in a half smile.  “Try hard?”

 

He’s stunned.  Caught between standing and still bent down towards you, his eyes searching yours.  Your hand still on the back of his neck, about to lean in towards you again… until some asshole outside lays on the horn of the Jeep again.  You can’t help but laugh a little, planting one last light kiss to his lips.  “Go give them hell, Johnny.”

 

He returns the kiss before pulling away from you finally, grabbing his things and heading out the front door, yelling something at the guys before it slams shut behind him.  You hold it together just long enough to hear the Jeep drive away from the house before you drop to a heap on the floor of the kitchen.  Leaning back against the countertop and bringing your knees up closer to your body, wrapping your arms around them and sobbing almost uncontrollably.

 

Please for the love of everything, just come home

Chapter 13: Good Evening

The 141 have been haven been radio silent for months now.

 

Yup.

 

MONTHS.

 

It's the longest they've been gone since you have known them.  Your only solace being no one has shown up at your door to tell you they are gone.  You at least know you would get that as a courtesy from the military.  And living out in the middle of nowhere, you don't have to scrutinize every vehicle that happens your way since there aren't any.  The mailbox is far enough down the driveway that the mailman can keep his distance.  Packages don't even come up to the door anymore.  The anxiety of the cameras going off while you were at work was far too much.  They get left by the mailbox, too. 

 

You have tried to throw yourself into work.  Anything to not be at the house any more than you absolutely have to.  It's too quiet without anyone there.  Even when you always have a TV turned on to the local weather channel just so you have something for background noise.  Still too quiet.

 

With the days getting shorter, you have set up some timers throughout the house so at least a few lights are on when you do finally get home.  You hated how the house was pitch black when you came home.  A few lights on makes it a little more reassuring.  Tolerable.  At some point Johnny and the boys set up cameras, so there was one other thing you didn't have to worry about.  For your safety and peace of mind, they said.  You know it's mainly for their peace of mind.  They knew you would always be safe while they were off somewhere in the world saving the planet from the baddies.  You check the cameras a few times during the day, and at least once.on your way home.  Hoping that you just missed an alert that someone has come home.

 

You were cut from work early today.  Your boss thought you deserved it.  You know it's because you have way too much overtime wracked up and they just don't wanna have to pay you more.  You did everything you could to avoid going home right away.  Even went to the store and picked up some things for the guys just in case they finally came home.  And some easy to make foods cause you absolutely had no motivation to make much of anything, and ordering food lost its novelty ages ago. 

 

You park your car outside of the furthest garage door, back far enough to keep an eye on the front of the house before turning the car off.  Not yet going inside.  You decide to wait the extra twenty minutes before lights will start to flick on as their respective timers kick in.  Not that you have much to do when you get inside anyway except put away the things you just purchased.  You have already gone through the bedrooms and did all of their laundry.  They had washed any essential items that were needed, or packed them away to take care of them on base.  You mainly took care of their comfort items, so whenever they did venture back to the house, they had their favorite sweatshirts or pajama pants all washed and put away.  You also made sure their bedding was clean and beds were made.  Something you learned that they greatly appreciated right from the beginning.  Gaz damn near cried the first time he came back and saw what you had done.  It's the absolute very least you can do for any of them, just like you had always done for Soap.

 

You came to terms ages ago that you were the glorified roommate/caretaker/cook/now fake wife.  Titles have just been added on here and there.  You weren't offended by it by any means.  You knew what you were getting yourself into, in some ways, when you agreed to move in.  You have made yourself useful.  You knew they appreciated it.  You knew they didn't need you doing any of it, and in turn wouldn't even be offended if you didn't do anything with their stuff while they were gone.  You just kept their stuff tidy.

 

For most other things not pertaining to inside the house, Soap had hired someone to take care of it.  Someone came for the lawn care.  Someone to deal with garbage.  Someone to clear off the driveway and sidewalk if it snowed heavy enough.  You argued with him about it at first.  You were more than capable of doing it yourself.  You grew up doing all of it anyways.  He insisted.  He saw all the things you did around the house, he felt guilty adding more to it.  He almost hired a cleaning person to come in until you squashed that.  You were there the majority of time, you took care of that by yourself and did so happily.  You looked at it as just doing your fair share.  It kept you busy when they were gone.

 

Though now with their extended absence, their things looked after, the house has been kept tidy besides your day to day living, there just isn't much else for you to do to keep occupied inside.  Not much to keep you occupied outside either, for what it's worth.  On occasion you take the lawnmower for a walk, with a podcast going or music blaring into your ears.  You don't have much of a green thumb so tending to a garden isn't in your wheelhouse.  You keep things tidy in between whatever service needs to show up.  Keep things looking presentable.  So when the boys do finally roll in, it'll be like they never left.

 

The lights in the living room flash on, and you let out a heavy sigh.  Guess that is your cue to head inside.  You open the car door and step out before popping the trunk and grabbing the bags filled with things you purchased.  Closing the trunk, kicking the door shut with your foot, and heading to the door, punching in the code to unlock it and open it.

 

Yup.

 

It's way too fucking quiet.

 

You get inside and nudge the door shut with your foot.  You are much more gentle with it since it's not owned by you.  You flick on the kitchen lights and dump the bags of things onto the countertop before you rifle through and put the cold things away into the fridge.  Your forgetful ass also finds the ice cream you sorta forgot you bought and shove it into the freezer.  Hopefully it isn't too melted.  A problem that future you can figure out.

 

You use your phone to turn on the TV and turn it to the weather channel.  Not quite listening to whatever the man in it is droning on about.  You think you hear something about snow. You'll check on it later.

 

You turn your attention to the cabinets and shove the last few items into them.  Which just reminds you that you really need to go through them and parse out anything that may be expired or have gone stale.  A project for another day.  Maybe that's what you can do for the weekend.

 

Just as you close the cupboard, your phone starts blaring from your shirt.  The sound of it actually startling you.  You don't get a lot of calls to begin with, and most notifications are turned off unless it's texts from the guys or the camera notifications.  You reach down into your bra and pull out your phone and look at the screen.

 

It's Price!

 

Before you can swipe the call to answer it, you feel something cold against the back of your neck, accompanied by a quiet ‘click’.

 

“Good evening, Mrs. MacTavish.”

Notes:

Well... Shit.

So next chapter has a HUGE spoiler from Modern Warfare 3 (2023). You have been warned. I will try to remember to warn you again.. I haven't finished writing the chapter ,but it's definitely a big ol' spoiler.

Vin Diesel in Fast and the Furious would be jelly of how big the spoiler is.

I assume anyway, idfk.

Chapter 14: Hostage

Summary:

I shall apologize in advance for this chapter. Sorrows. Prayers.

 

**SPOILERS**
**TRIGGER WARNINGS**

If you don't wanna know a part of the plot of MW3 (2023) then you maybe wanna skip this one.

Mentions of stabbings, shootings, blood, violence

Tags are relevant.

“Good evening, Mrs. MacTavish.”

 

Cold metal presses tighter against the back of your neck.

 

Your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.

 

Your stomach feels like it's about to fall right out of you and splatter onto the floor.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, you raise your trembling hands up to the sides of your head.  Somehow still holding onto your phone as it now goes silent, only for it to immediately start blaring out again.

 

You feel the phone start to leave your hand so you release your grip from it.  You close your eyes, desperately trying to control your breathing.  

 

What.  The.  FUCK?!

 

“Captain Price, how wonderful it is to hear from you.”  The stranger has answered your phone for you.  He also seems to have put it on speaker.

 

“Makarov."

 

Makarov?  Who the fuck is Makarov?

 

“I must say, the little MacTavish woman has done wonderful work with the place.  An excellent housewife she is.  I see why your Sergeant MacTavish loves her so.  What a wonderful little thing she is.”

 

You open your eyes, trying so hard to concentrate on anything but the gun still pressed to your skin.  You can feel it move up just enough the sit at the base of your skull. Your breathing becoming more erratic.  You try to gain some control over it, but you also know it's pointless.

 

Why does he think I'm Soap's wife?  That was just a ruse to the hospital.  A joke with the guys.  The only thing that ties you like that to Johnny is that fake signature.  

 

“A shame she has been kept hidden away.  Not even a marriage paperwork on file for her and the Sergeant.  Almost as much of a mystery as that Lieutenant Simon Riley of yours.  I expected him to be the one that bedded her with how much of a secret she has been.”

 

You hear the man himself swear and scream from the phone.  

 

“If you lay a finger on her Makarov , I swear I'll fucking gut you myself!  You hear me?  Fucking!  Gut!  You!”

 

Simon…

 

“Such empty threats of yours, Simon.  And so protective of your Sergeant's wife?  Isn't she the lucky one.  Don't you worry.  I'll lay more than just a finger.”

 

Oh fucking christ…!

 

More screaming from Simon, but you can hardly understand it.  Mostly from how outraged he is, though outrage seems like an understatement.  But you hear footsteps in other parts of the house, and that has distracted you.  Of course this Makarov person didn't come alone.  He was stupid, but apparently not that stupid.  Taking on the 141 alone would be suicide.  Taking them on at all is suicide really,  but alone would make it that much quicker.

 

You feel the gun barrel pull away from you just a little bit.  Still close by.  Definitely still trained on you.  A hand lands on your shoulder and grips you tight, pulling you backwards until your legs hit a chair.  You are then forced to sit in it, arms pulled behind your back before you feel something tighten around your wrists.  

 

Slowly, the man holding the gun comes and walks in front of you, looking down at you with intrigue.  You stare up at him, trying to control your breathing again.  You are scared shitless, but you would rather not show that to him.  As much as possible, anyway.  Mapping out his face.  You may need it for later.  Hopefully not.

 

“A cute little housewife the Sergeant had.  I wonder how cute she will look with a bullet in her head.  Or if she will look just like her husband did when I put one in his.”

 

“You what?! ”  The first time you have spoken during all of this.  

 

“Has no one told you?  They left you in the dark?  Poor little thing.”

 

“It's not true, love.  Don't listen to him.”  Price, trying his best to reassure you.

 

“Price lies to you.  He saw it happen in front of him.  Your husband stabbed me.  And I gave him a bullet.”

 

No… no no no nononononono… 

 

Sobbing.  You are sobbing now.  Not because of the gun pointed at you, or because of Price trying so hard to reassure you and try to tell you Soap is ok.  You want to believe that.  You try so fucking hard to believe it.

 

But this person…this Makarov.  This fucker just told you he killed Johnny.  And you don't know what to believe.

 

Johnny.  Your Johnny.  Is dead…

 

“No.  No no no he can't… he can't, just…  where is he?  Where the fuck is he, Price?!”

 

“You break his wife's heart, Price.  I'm sorry to have to tell you, little one.  He put in a good fight.  I must give that much to him at lea-”

 

You hear sounds from outside now.  Gunshots?  You turn your head to the window of the kitchen but are too low to see outside.

 

Makarov says something to his men.  Something you cannot understand, but have a vague understanding of what it sounds like.  Russian?  That tracks, this guy sounds like he has an accent that you weren't sure of what it was.  Or you were just so fucking scared out of your goddamn mind you didn't realize what it was.  You certainly don't understand any of it anyway.

 

You watch as he hurls your phone on the ground and smashes it with his foot.  You are too numb to react much to it except to jump a little from fright.  He then grabs you by the collar of your shirt, pulling you up from the chair to make you stand  and presses you to his chest as he walks the both of you towards the window.  

 

And then you see it.  Military vehicles converging on the lawn.  Soldiers making their way to the house.

 

They came to get their target.  

 

The other men have made their way outside, shooting at soldiers making their way to the house.  You see some of Makarov's men drop as bullets find their mark on their bodies.

 

A standoff.

 

With you being a hostage.

 

Makarov has pulled you closer to himself again, gun pressed against your chin.  Pulling you with him as he moves away from the window and looking to make a hasty exit.

 

You have become his meat shield.

 

Your movements are stiff, trying to comply as he pulls you along but are so caught up in fear.  Too terrified to do anything else.

 

Simon bursts through door off the side of the kitchen.  Gun pointed toward Makarov.  Pointed at you.

 

“Lieutenant!  Pleasure to see you again, comrade!  You’ve met my new friend here yes, Mrs. MacTavish?  She will be leaving here with me.  We have much catching up to do.”

You are too scared to say anything.  Tears streaming down your face.  Eyes glued to Simon.  Mind racing.  You don't know what to do.  You don't know what you can do.  

 

Makarov starts walking you both to the open door.  No doubt so he can escape.  Whatever sort of escape that might look like.  You try to pry your wrists free from your restraints, but they seem to tighten in their device the more squirm.  Your face stricken with fear.

 

“Ghost…”  His eyes flicker to yours for just a second before going back to Makarov.  Waiting for an opening.  Any opening.

 

Makarov slides the gun away from your chin and up over your cheek, only stopping when it lands on your temple.  “Stay away, Simon.  I'd hate to spill the pretty housewife's blood all over her pretty clean floors.”

 

“FUCK YOU!”   You bellow out before you rear back with everything you have in you to slam the back of your head as hard as you possibly can into the front of Makarov's face.  You hear him scream before you crumple to the floor, him having let you go in surprise.  From the floor you twist and try to kick him in the legs with everything you have in you, trying to drop him to the floor beside you, wishing your hands weren't still tied behind your back.

 

The fucker somehow doesn't drop, but Ghost seems to have got few shots off in the meantime, hitting Makarov in the arm with at least one of them.  

 

Makarov gets his own shots off at Ghost before kicking you in the stomach, winding you and making you stop kicking your legs long enough for him to get away.  

 

Simon goes after him.  Gaz must have found a way inside because he is dropping down to his knees beside you.  “Fucking hell, little miss!  You're ok, you are going to be ok, let me have a look at you.”

 

You lay there, starting to sob again.  Reeling from what he had said about Soap.  Starting to feel some of the pain from being kicked while you were down, the back of your head starting to throb  a little from trying to break his face.  

 

“Oh shi-MEDIC!  I NEED A FUCKING MEDIC HERE NOW!  Oh shit, it's ok, hold here, can you hold here little miss?  Right here, hold your hand right here! Good girl!”  Gaz has placed your hand on your stomach, then placed his hand on top of yours.

 

“Fucking hell Gaz, he kicked me good.”  You sob out through gritted teeth while trying to catch your breath.  You hadn't even realized Gaz got your hands untied.  When the hell did that happen?

 

Someone you don't recognize drops down beside the two of you, moving your hand out of the way to look where his boot has landed.  They start poking at you, which makes you 

scream something close to bloody murder. 

 

Didn't know a kick could hurt so fucking bad, Jesus Christ…. 

 

GSW?  What the fuck?  Who has a gun shot wound?

 

You start panting a bit more, not able to take in a full breath.  You guess you broke some ribs with that kick.  That'll be fun healing right there.

 

Fuck it's cold in here… duh, doors are wide open stupid , all the cold air is being let in.  Was it this cold outside?

 

Price has shoved Gaz out of the way to get a better look at you now.  “Fuckin’ hell love, I'm so sorry.  Shoulda never happened, so bloody sorry love.  Need to get you out of here.”

 

“Soap!”  You gasp out suddenly.  Where the hell is he?

 

“Just hang on a minute, love.”

 

“Soap?”  You call for him again.  “Where…is… S...s...Soap?”  Between the cold and the broken ribs, it's hard to get it out of you.  

 

You reach out to grab Price, but that's when you notice it.

 

The blood.  

 

Your hands are covered in blood.

 

You know Ghost had hit Makarov, hopefully he hit a fucking artery or something.  Looks like a lot of blood, anyway.  Like, a looooot.  Of blood.

 

Fuck that's a lot of blood.

 

You were about to say something.

 

Might have been a sarcastic, smart ass remark.

 

Might have been something reassuring.

 

Might have been…

 

But before you could get it out fully…

 

It's getting dark.

 

Who the fuck is turning off the lights?

 

Simon is by you now, too.  Talking.  You can't understand him.   It's almost like someone has stuck your head in a fishbowl.

 

It doesn't take much longer for the darkness to swallow you and take you under.

Notes:

I reeeaaaaally am sorry about this one. Don't hate me too much. I'll make it up to you later. And myself. Our poor boy...

Chapter 15: Wake Up

This dream is stupid.  It's just… black.  Completely black.  So.  Much.  BLACK.

 

And the beeping.

 

FUCK the beeping.

 

Can soneome turn it off?

 

Soneome?  Soneome...

 

Some… one…

 

What the hell?

 

It feels like my tongue is too fat to talk.

 

Wait, I'm not even talking.

 

My head hurts.

 

Why does my head hurt so much?

 

And my side.

 

My side feels like… like… hurty.  It hurts.

 

Ok, seriously, who do I have to blow around here to make the fucking beeping stop?

 

“Mrs. MacTavish dear, you have a visitor.”

 

Who the fuck is Mrs. MacTavish?  And why does she have a visitor?

 

“Hey, dove.”

 

Oh thank fuck, it's you.  Help me out here Simon.  What the hell is going on?

 

“Still out I see.”

 

Out where?  Where are we?

 

“Need you to come back, dove.”

 

I'd love to, but where the fuck are we right now?

 

“‘m sorry, Dove.  Shoulda never happened.  Don't know why it did.”

 

Sorry what happened?  Did Gaz get me drunk again?

 

“Gonna need you back soon.  Been fuckin’ hell without havin’ you around.  Price and Gaz both are a fuckin’ mess.”

 

And Soap isn't?  Where the hell is that bastard, anyhow?

 

“Get some rest.  More rest, anyway.  It's been a few weeks now.”

 

A few weeks since what , Simon?  Hello?  Simonnnnnn?!

 

Get back here, you bawbag!

 

---

 

“Hello, love.”

 

Price?

 

“Sorry I haven't been to see you in a while.”

 

Oh it's cool, babes.  I haven't seen me in a while, either.  Where is here?

 

“Doctor says you are making a nice recovery.”

 

Jesus, Gaz fucked me up that badly?  What happened, did I fall and hit my head?

 

“Gaz wants to come see you.  Poor bloke is feeling guilty.”

 

Oof Gazatron.  Poor dude.  I forgive the little shit if that helps anything.  If he did anything?  I don't know what happened.

 

“We still haven't found Makarov.  Sneaky fuck.”

 

Wait, who is that again?  Sounds familiar for some reason.  Makarov… is that a gun?  

 

“Hello Mr. Price, it's good to see you again.”

 

Uh, that's Captain Price, whoever you are.  Wait, who are you?

 

“ Our patients seem to be recovering well.  We have reduced medications by quite a bit, hopefully they be waking up soon.”

 

Medications?  What ones?  I mean I have a few, but I've been doing great on those for years, so why are we reducing anything?

 

Wait, patient?  Patients?  … patience?

 

….what was I saying?

 

Why is the beeping still a thing?

 

“Thanks, Doc.  I won't stay too much longer.”

 

Why the hell not?  I mean, I suppose I'm shit company, but still kinda hurts.

 

“How's our little miss holdin’ up, Cap?”

 

Aww, Gaz.  You sound terrible.

 

“Stable.  Doc just said her meds were reduced.”

 

Could you stop talking in code?  What meds?

 

“Got a lead on Makarov.  Laswell will brief you on it later.’

 

Laswell?  Makarov?  Why do I not know these things?  Are they people?

 

You groan in frustration.  No one is telling you anything, and it is driving you right up the fucking wall.

 

“Love?”

 

You groan again.  You would try to move but it all hurts.  You try to open your eyes for a moment.  Try to look at them.  Try to figure out where the hell you are.

 

Fuck, that's bright.

 

But that takes too much out of you.  Blackness comes back to say hello.

 

---

 

Fuuuuuuck…  what happened?  Maybe Gaz didn't get me drunk… was I hit by a semi?

 

“Hey.”

 

Hay is for horses, my dude.

 

“Still not awake?”

 

That's a negatory.  I mean I'm awake, just not awake awake.  Wait, who is this?

 

“Shame.”

 

Eh, it's not so bad.  It's not nearly as bright, so my retinas will thank me for it later.

 

No for real though, who are you?  It's like a shitty game of telephone right now.

 

That's my hand, and I would like it back sir.

 

Is that your face?  Why is your face wet?  Or am I wet?  Bow chicka wo- yeah that was a bad joke, especially when I haven't any clue to who you are.

 

You sound a little familiar any way.

 

“Gonna have to wake up.”

 

I'll get right on that.  Maybe if you would get that fucking beeping to finally stop, I'll think about it.

 

“Please?”

 

You ask so nicely…  ok, on the count of three I will try.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Two… and a... a half.

 

Th… Th… thr-

 

---

 

“She should be awake by now, yeah?”

 

Oh Gaz.

 

“Dove lost a lot of blood.”

 

Simon, you aren't supposed to kill the doves.  That is just cruel.  They are nice birds.

 

“But she should be by now.”

 

Who should be what?

 

“Go for a walk, Kyle.”

 

Ooo, can I go t– AaaAaAAAHhhH hey, hey, hey next time, can we not scrape the chair over the floor like that?  Nails on a chalkboard right there.  Fuck my ears.  My head.  First the beeping that never ends, and then this shit?

 

“Sorry ‘bout him, dove.”

 

He means well, Simon.

 

“Just worried about you.”

 

Oh please, I'm perfectly fine.

 

“We all are.”

 

Don't waste your worry on me, Simon.

 

“Need you awake soon.”

 

Why?  Am I missing something?  Wait  is it someone's birthday?  A holiday coming up?

 

"Someone's been waitin' to see you."

 

Who?  Price?  E h…  five more minutes… 

 

---

 

“Hey.”

 

Hay is for… oh wait, you again?  Long time no see !  Hah!  Get it… cause like… Eh, nevermind.

 

“Need to come back, now.”

 

Why ‘now’ though?  What am I gonna miss?  Don't suppose you can help with a clue at all, eh?

 

“Please.”

 

That's my hand you got there again.  Fuck, you sound so familiar.  Do I know you?

 

“For me?”

 

Well…. You ask so nicely…

 

“Please, hen.”

 

Hen?  Hen… bagawk?  Hen?

 

Hen…  hen…

 

Hen.

 

“....-on-..?”

 

“Lass?”

 

Hen.  Lass.

 

“C'mon, hen.  C'mon.”

 

Your eyes open, but immediately clamp shut again.  So fucking bright.  Your head jerks to the side a little.

 

“Oi!  Need someone in ‘ere!”

 

The yelling... No yelling...

 

It is a little darker.  The light went off.  Not just figuratively this time.  The light is really off.

 

A hand on your face.  Rough.  Calloused.  Familiar?  Soothing…

 

“Le’ me see them eyes, beau'iful.”

 

It feels like someone tied bricks to your eyelids from how heavy they feel.  You think you managed to get them opened, but maybe not.

 

Slowly.

 

So slowly.

 

You flutter them open.

 

Everything is really fucking blurry though.  Still a little bright.  You wince, and try to peek through your eyelashes.

 

That… big fucking head.  Their poor mother.

 

A squeeze to your one hand and a little brush against your cheek with their other.

 

You squint more.  Trying to open up a little wider.  Flinching as a door slams open somewhere.  Heavy footsteps coming closer.

 

Eyes a little more open.  That big head...  That… hair?  Hair looks kinda…

 

Hawk. 

 

Mohawk.

 

Your eyes flit down, looking at their eyes.

 

The eyes.

 

Those eyes.

 

Bright… ocean… blue.

 

“...-nny?”

 

That grin.

 

That.

 

Fucking.

 

Grin.

 

“Hey, princess.”

Notes:

~

You doubted me?

With our boy?

Our precious boy?!

How very dare you.

Chapter 16: Easy

“Easy, princess.  Easy, m’girl.”

 

You were trying to sit up when you saw his face and your brain finally connected the dots that Johnny was right in front of you.  He was making sure you didn't.

 

Suddenly he lets go and steps aside to be replaced by a stranger.

 

That stranger pulls your eyelid open more, and a bright fucking light shines into it.  Same treatment for your other eye.

 

“Do you have any idea about where you are, dear?”

 

Your tongue felt like it was covered in glue.  Your throat wasn't feeling much different.  “H… hos…tal?”

 

The nurse presses a button so that your bed starts to move.  Making you sit up higher.  A stick shoved between your lips.  You are told to suck.  

 

A small drink of water before you clear your throat.

 

“Hospital.”

 

“There you are.  Year?”

 

“‘23?”

 

“Full year?”

 

“2023?”

 

“Much better.  Do you remember what happened?”

 

“N… not exactly…”

 

A couple hums from the person as they look over monitors.

 

“That can be normal due to the trauma.  Plus with her just waking up, things may be foggy for a while.  With time she will start to remember.”

 

Remember what?  What trauma?

 

“I will notify the doctor.”

 

Doctor?

 

Oh… that must have been a nurse then.  Ok.  Makes sense.  

 

…I think.

 

Johnny comes back over to you.  Taking up your hand again and giving it a squeeze.

 

“Johnny… you…”

 

He breathes a slight chuckle from his nose while rubbing your hand.  “Me Johnny, hen.”

 

You frown, closing your eyes for just a moment and swallowing.  Trying to concentrate.  

 

“Soap?”

 

“Tha's still me, princess.”

 

You open your eyes again and look up at him.  “Right…  But… Someone said you…”

 

“I wha’, Bonnie?”  He squeezes your hand a little.

 

“You were…  gone… that you were d-dead…”

 

Tears fill your eyes as the door opens again.  Soap kisses your hand and lets you go once more to let the doctor in and get a look at you.

 

“Good to finally find you awake, missus.  How do you feel?”

 

“Like shit.”  You sniffle and wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.  Your fingers bump into the cannula giving you oxygen.  You didn't even know it was there til now.  You make sure it's still tucked behind your ears.

 

A polite chuckle.  “That is to be expected.  You have been unconscious for quite some time and lost a great deal of blood.”

 

You frown at the doctor.  “I did?”

 

A slight look of concern.  “Is there any recollection of what happened?”

 

“Just… bits and pieces.  Flashes, I guess.”  You look over at Johnny.  The doctor pulls out a pen and scribbles something on his clipboard.  The sound of it seemingly scraping directly over your eardrums.  He then turns to Johnny to address him.

 

“We'll have to monitor your wife for a while, keep an eye on her recovery.  She will need lots of rest, despite being out for as long as she was.  I don't want her to backslide.”

 

Soap nods at the doctor, who gives him a slight pat on the shoulder before leaving the room.  When the doctor leaves he's right back by your side, grabbing some tissues for you and placing them in your hand.  

 

You start dabbing at your eyes, trying to get the stray tears, eyeing Soap suspiciously.  “Wife?”

 

“They remembered us from when I was stuck in this joint.”

 

Soap steps back and shifts your hospital bed before breaking down the side railing, sliding you ever so carefully to make some room for himself.  It's now you realize you have a lot of things attached to you.  Wires to your chest, an IV going into the back of your hand, and other very unpleasant tubes coming out elsewhere.  You don't know how long you have been out, but you are fairly certain you look just about as great as you feel.  And yeah, you feel like shit.

 

After he has you situated, he climbs into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him.  Being ever so gentle with you, as to not pull anything off of you or out of you.  He presses your head down on his chest before wrapping both arms around you.

 

“‘m righ’ here, hen.”

 

He is.  He really is.  Why did… why did they say he was…

 

You shift your hips and tenderly wrap your own arms around his torso.  Ignoring the slight pull of skin from your side for now.  Johnny tilts down and kisses the top of your head, lightly dragging his fingers over your arm

 

Suddenly you lift your head, remembering something that was said.  

 

“A cute little housewife the Sergeant had.  I wonder how cute she will look with a bullet in her head.  Or if she will look just like her husband did when I…”

 

“…put one in his…  Wait, were you shot in the head ?!”

 

He tilts and shows you the wound he is rocking on the side of his skull. You frown up at it, slowly moving your hand that isn't attached to your IV bags up to it and running your fingers over it.  It's mostly healed now.  Will definitely leave a scar.  Fresh tears flood your eyes just looking at it.

 

My poor Johnny…

 

“Guess it’s kinda hard to miss something that huge.”

 

“Oi, smar'ass!”  He reaches over to your side table and grabs the cup of water with the straw, bringing it in and having you take a drink before setting it aside again.

 

“Looks like they fucked up the mohawk.”

 

“Ye'll have to fix it for me when ye get out of here.”

 

And then you think back to when you had a gun to your own head.

 

“Price lies to you.  He saw it happen in front of him.  Your husband stabbed me.  And I…

 

“…gave him a bullet.” You whisper out, barely loud enough to be heard

 

“Wha’ was that, princess?”

 

“You stabbed him, and he shot you… Makarov.”

 

Fuck… he did, but he fucked it up… if he had went maybe an inch over, he would have killed Johnny…

 

“Easy hen…  easy.”  He tilts to look down at you.  You had closed your eyes, burying your face back into his chest.  Just now starting to realize that you were trembling.

 

“Fuck… I'm sorry, I'm an absolute fucking mess.”

 

“Oi.”  He leans you back and tilts your face, making you look at him.  “Don’ ye dare apologize for tha’ to me, hen.  Ye've nothin’ to be sorry for.  I'm the one that should be groveling at ye're feet and begging forgiveness.”

 

You nod slightly, eyes shifting to stare into his eyes.  Biting the inside of your cheek to try to make the tears stop before they start flowing again.  And stop yourself from kissing him. 

 

You are sorry though.  Even though you didn't do anything wrong.  Even though none of what happened is anywhere near your fault.  You still have that guilty feeling gnawing away at you.  It's stupid.  It makes no sense.  And you know that.

 

But it's there.

 

Jonny leans in, kissing your forehead before getting you settled in against him again.  “I'll have to let the boys know ye're awake.  They've been in to see ye a few times.”

 

“If you had to be my husband to see me, how have they been in?”

 

“Price made them think he's ye're dad.”

 

“Oh, I am sooo going to call him ‘daddy’ from now on.”

 

“Oh sure, make me jealous.”

 

You swat him on the arm.  “When did it happen?  The, uh… head…”

 

“Not long after we first shipped out.  Was in a coma for a wee bit.  Lucky I'm still ‘ere.”

 

“Lucky you got that big head.”

 

“Oi!  Ye're lucky ye’re still in hospital, princess.”

 

“I'll tell my daddy on you, Bubbles.”

 

“Knew I shouldn'a tol’ ye.”

 

You giggle.  It's fucking hysterical.  

 

Daddy Price .

 

“What about Simon and Kyle?  How are they getting in?”

 

“Brothers.”

 

“...yes, the family resemblance is astounding.”

 

He chuckles and kisses your head again.  “Said they're ye're brothers.  Leas’ someone bought it.  They've been beside themselves worried about ye.”

 

“Poor guys.  Dare I ask which poor bastard had to clean up after me?”

 

“How do ye mean?”

 

“Apparently I tried to bleed out.  I sorta assume that most of that happened in the house?”

 

Johnny goes pretty quiet now.  You wait for him to say anything.

 

“Or maybe you hired someone to do it, which… probably would be the best option.  Or, things have been way too hectic and it hasn't been done yet.  And that's totally fine.  I can go and scrape myself up off the floor.  I've cleaned up my own blood a billion times before so it's not like it'd be a first for me.”  You poke him in the side, trying to lighten the sudden heaviness of the mood.

 

He isn't looking at me.

 

Why isn't he looking at me.

 

“Johnny?”

 

He goes to slide out of your bed, but you grab into him.

 

“Johnny, what aren't you telling me?”

 

“‘Ts gone.”

 

“Oh… ok.  Good.  I'll pay you back, I mean, you shouldn't have to clean up aft-”

 

“The house is gone, hen.”

 

The hell does he mean?

 

“The hell do you mean?”

 

“‘Ts gone.  Makarov.  He torched the house.  ‘Ts all gone.”

 

Oh.

 

Well…

 

Fuck.

Notes:

This chapter brought to you by

~*PROCRASTINATION*~

Cause instead of doing any of the prep work I should have been doing for Thanksgiving, I decided to give you this feast instead.

Chapter 17: Protection

You carefully open the gift bag that Simon has handed to you, eyeing him suspiciously.  You reach in and pull out the bundle of tissue paper, furrowing your brow in confusion.  Pulling it open, you find a light blonde colored teddy bear, almost the same shade as Ghost's hair.  It's wearing a balaclava painted similarly to his own.

 

It's the cutest fucking thing you have ever seen in your life.

 

And you got it from Simon.

 

The bastard does care about you.

 

“Awwwwww!  Its’ a beary Simon!”

 

“Not a word about it, dove.”

 

“But Simooooon…!”

 

“I'll take it back.”

 

You wrap your arms around it tighter and hold it to your chest protectively.  “I'll fight you.”

 

That brings a laugh out.  Ghost bends down to kiss your forehead, of course without bothering to lift the mask to do so before sitting in one of the chairs in the room.  

 

You were sitting up in bed now, but leaned back against Johnny since he's insisted you use him instead of a pillow.  Not hooked up nearly as many tubes as you were a few days ago.  Still had the IV in your hand just to push in meds as need be.  You were getting much stronger, but still tired fairly easily.

 

“So when are you going to finally get me out of here?  Ding dong over here was a hell of a lot worse than I was when we got him out, so I should be good to go, yea?”

 

“Different situation with you, love.  More complicated.”  Price was sitting in a chair closest to your bed.  Hunched forward, elbows propped on his knees and his hat in his hands.  Wringing the poor thing, making it a wonder how it's held together for this long.

 

“I promise none of you will have to give me a sponge bath if that makes it less complicated.”

 

“Oi, take all the fun ou’ of it, why don't ye.”  You tilt your head to glare at Soap.  He gives you that shit eating grin of his.  “Remind me to kick your ass when I have more strength, MacTavish.”  He wraps his arms around you to hug you as his apology, and you bap his hands away like he’s a naughty child.  He wins, only because he's bigger than you and you lack the energy to fight him.

 

“I got you, little miss.”  Gaz scoots his chair over to the bed, punching Soap in the arm before quickly moving his chair back and out of reach of Johnny trying to retaliate.  You bury your head against the back of the balaclava'd teddy and giggle.

 

“Thanks, little brother .”  You tease.  Of course you do.  It's impossible not to.

 

“So I assume the complication goes a little bit beyond not having a place to go back to?”  You know it's a sore topic.  You hate that you have to even bring it up.  But you are so tired of being in this stupid hospital.

 

“Far beyond, love.  Makarov is still out there.  Need to get to him, figure out why he came after you.  What information he thinks you have.”  So many things on Price's mind.  So little answers.

 

You sigh.  Feeling a little nauseated.  “I'll have to start hunting for an apartment.  I can get by with a hotel, or one of them… whatchamacallits.  Temporary rental things.  It'll be a friggin miracle if I still have a job.  This will be fun to explain to them.”  The air seems a lot heavier in the moment.  

 

The boys are quiet.  

 

Very quiet.

 

“Uhhh… well, little miss… we… we've decided tha-”

 

“Gaz, I swear on everyone's mother in here, if you have unilaterally made another decision for me, I am going to kick everyone's asses.”

 

“We were outranked on this one, love.  Military made the decision for all of us.”  Price stands and paces a bit around the room.  Clearly stressed out about whatever the hell is going on.

 

“Military is taking ye into protective custody, hen.”

 

You look back at Soap again and frown.  “How does that work when I'm just a nobody civilian?”

 

“Complicated, bonnie.  Little white lies.  Fuckin’ huge lies.  Some stuff that may no’ make sense to anyone.  And a whole lot of cooperation from ye're side.”

 

You turn your head to look between each of them as they wait for you to say something.  

 

You try sitting up more to at least look a little more stoic.  At least, you hope you look the part.  Johnny helping you sit up may not have quite helped with that.  “Alright.  What do you need from me?”

 

“You sure you are up for it, dove?”  Simon has a hint of worry behind his mask.  Probably more than he ever has shown towards you, really.  It's endearing in it's own way.

 

“No.  But it doesn't seem I'm left with a whole lot of options here.  Need to know what is expected of me.”  

 

“We'll have to take you to base, love.  Give you more of a proper debrief.  Lotta things that aren't safe to say here behind these walls.”

 

You nod, and smile over at Price.  Trying to be reassuring.  Even though you feel nothing but guilt eating away at you.  You'll apologize for being a burden on them later.  

 

Simon staring at you gets your attention.  Silently letting you know that he knows how you are really feeling, but doesn't want to call you out on it yet.  You wrap your arms tighter around your new teddy while looking at him… before playfully acting out snapping it's neck.  Simon tilts to the side and acts dead.  

 

Message received.  He'll leave you be.  For the time being.

 

No wonder he’s one of your favorites.

 

---

 

You borrowed some cash from Price and bought a pair of scrubs off one of the nurses.  Since all your clothes were either burnt to a crisp or at the bottom of a dumpster in a biohazard bag, it was either scrubs or a hospital gown.  Scrubs were the lesser evil.  At least you didn't have to leave the hospital completely bare assed.

 

All members of the 141 turned out to be your escorts to base.  Thankfully Gaz was driving.  You couldn't handle Ghost driving right now.  You don't think your stomach could take it.  

 

They were gracious enough to stop by the store before they officially took you to base so you could grab some actual clothing so you had something else to change into than just the single pair of scrubs.  

 

Ghost and Johnny end up following you inside.  You knew Johnny would tail you, but didn't expect Simon.  He typically opts out of physically going into any store, ordering online is more his style.  Completely understood, if he did need something you would just pick it up for him.  At least before the house was burnt to a crispy shell of the gloriousness that it once was.  But he insisted you should have someone else with you besides Johnny.  Gaz and Price were apparently not up to his standards.

 

You tried to move as quickly as you could, finding a couple of things in your size out of very limited options.  You were currently trying to find a bra that would fit.  Simon is trailing a little behind, pushing the cart with the things you have already picked out.  Johnny is trying to help you look for what you need, except he's not exactly being ‘helpful’.

 

“Shouldn' ye be tryin’ things’ on, lass?”

 

“You wish, MacTavish.”

 

“Can’ blame me for tryin’, can ye?”

 

“Course not, babes.  I just need to get something to keep things contained, and I lack the time, the energy, and the mental load to go through the process of trying anything on.  Maybe the next time you take me shopping, I'll let you watch me try to stuff myself into a thong.”

 

“Really?”  Oh sure, that piqued his interest.  You give him your most unimpressed look.  He gives you his ever so famous grin.

 

“You are such a dingus.”

 

“Ye love me anyways.”

 

“True.  Though you tagging along might not be the best plan.  Maybe I should bring Simon with me instead.”  Hey, you found something that wiped.that grin clean off his face.  The mention of Simon and taking you shopping.  Or was it just the mention of you doing anything with Simon that does the trick?  You've already cheated death this month, maybe you shouldn't push your luck too much.

 

You find a sports bra that should work for now.  Good enough.  “Ugh, I'm going to spend a small fortune just to get the bare minimum of what I… oh shit.”

 

“Dove?”  Simon quickly comes over to make sure you were alright. 

 

“I don't have my wallet.  Correction, I don't have a wallet at all .  There's not even one waiting for me to get back to.  I'll have to call my…  oh god dammit!”

 

“Finish a sentence, hen.”

 

“No wallet, no phone, no ID, no documents that I need to replace the ID that I'll need to replace my debit card and everything else…”  You rub your hands over your forehead, a headache already forming to kick your ass while you are already down.

 

“Oi.  Hey.  Listen, everything'll be ok.”  Soap pulls you into a hug, rubbing your side.  Trying to calm you.  It's helping.  Some.  

 

“Tell ye what.  Let's get ye the hell out o’ here.  And when we get ye settled, ye can model off some of this stuff for me, yea?”

 

“How about we have Simon model them off for the both of us and make it extra fun?”

 

“You joke dove, but I'll do it if it gets a smile out of you.”  Simon nudges into you.  Some part of you almost wants to test him out on that.  You give him a coy smile to see what he might say.  If looks could kill, Simon would have absolutely murdered you right then and there.  Worth a shot, even if you shouldn't be pushing your luck just yet.

 

Sometime after Ghost insisting that he pay for your things, with you promising and swearing up and down that you will pay him back the moment you have the ability to, getting back into the jeep, and on the way to base, you completely passed out.

Chapter 18: Getting settled

Ye know, hen.

When I said that ye'd be the death of me.

I didn’ think ye'd take me seriously and try to actually be the death of me.  

But ye sure as hell tried.  Not that that was ye're fault.  And I suppose it's only fair.  I did almost die on ye twice now.  

Course it wasn’ ye're fault.  Ye had no idea what was comin’ after ye.  No one knew until it was too late.  No one saw him until he was goin’ inside the house.  And ye were jus’ getting home.  Only reason we knew at all was of a camera tha’ was missed.

I was still in hospital. Price was there with me for a while, but just keepin’ tabs on me.  Workin’ on bustin’ me out.  Gaz and Ghost were at the base, they'd just landed tha’ mornin’.  They said they  were goin’ to be home later that night to be with ye.  Had debriefs and duties to tend to first.  Til Ghost got tha’ notification from the camera.  Called Price, both called ye, and by then it was too late.

Fuckin’ Makarov.  He'll pay.  He'll fuckin pay for tryin to take ye away from me.

He thought ye were my wife.  May as well be at this point.  People gonna think we're married, should act the part.  ‘Specially when it got me into see ye in hospital.

Seein’ ye there.  Holdin’ ye're hand.  Beggin’ ye to come back to me.  Must been a pathetic sight.  ‘d like to think that's what got ye back.

Seein’ ye open yer eyes jus’ for me.

Glad I got to see it happen.

Ye almost lost me, too.

Can’ let that happen again.

Gotta come back for m'girl.

---

You are comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.  You feel nestled in, wrapped up and warm.  Also like you haven't moved in a week and something is jabbing you in your ribs.  You try to stretch out, but find you have almost no room to do so.

With a frown you open your eyes, blinking a few times.  Trying to find your bearings.

You are laying on your side, in what seems like a bed barely befitting a toddler, with your back pressed against a wall.  One arm propping up a very thin pillow.  Lifting your head to look around, you are very alone in a very tiny room.

Pushing yourself up more to get a better look at things, you realize this must be a room in the barracks on base.  You were laying on a cot, which explains why it's not exactly comfortable.  You grab underneath you to find whatever offensive object was jabbing you in the ribs, pulling out a sizeable sheathed knife.  You set it on the small table next to the cot before sitting up fully, having to grab at your side to do so.  Though the hole from being shot is healing well, it still feels like your insides haven't settled back into place, and big movements were uncomfortable.  Holding them in place seemed to help, anyway.

You look down at yourself, realizing you are still in the scrubs you left the hospital in.  That would definitely need to be taken care of as soon as possible.  Just a shower in general was going to have to happen.  You'd kill for a bathtub to soak in.

Standing up off of the cot, you would pace the room but there's not a whole lot to the place.  So you decide to snoop a little for now.

Starting with the table beside the cot, you find a small alarm clock on top of it.  In the drawer are a few combs, a disposable razer, some gum, ear plugs, ear buds, and you slam the drawer shut quickly when a box of condoms falls into view. 

See what happens when you snoop?  That's why you aren't supposed to!  You've lived with the guys long enough to know better than that!

Your face and chest are now well and flushed as you decide that maybe the bureau would be safer to look into.  You open the doors, and see a hanging lineup of what you assume are standard issue army shirts, a few hoodies, and a pair of fatigues.  Based on the patches of the fatigues you finally figure out you are in Soap's room.  At least you hope so, unless there's someone else sporting the Scottish flag around here.  

Some color catches your eye on one side of the bureau, and you pull aside a few things to get a better look.  That's where you find the small amount of shirts that you had bought from the store.  You pull one off of the hanger, getting a small whiff of it and realize that it smells the same as the rest of the items inside.  Soap must have had them washed, and hung them up with his things when you were passed out.

You toss the shirt over your shoulder, and grab a hoodie of his for good measure before closing the doors and opening the drawers, wondering what else you may find.  Top drawer has a bunch of his boxer briefs and socks, but they're all unceremoniously smooshed to one side of the drawer to make room for your underwear and the lone bra you were able to get.  Since it's a sports bra, you forgive him for having washed it with everything else.  At least it wasn't something more expensive that needed certain care.  Maybe you thank your lucky stars you don't have to deal with whatever fresh hell the military would consider a standard issue bra.

Grabbing the bra and undies makes you realize that you didn't think to grab socks while out shopping.  For now, you decide it might not be such a bad idea to borrow a pair of Soap's.  Walking barefoot around here probably isn't that great of a plan.

Bottom drawer had a bunch of camos on one side, your leggings folded up neatly on the other.  You grab a pair and close up, making sure things were the way they were before you got to them.  For now you set everything on top of Soap's desk that's been pushed up into the corner.  You decide it's best not to look through those drawers at all.

Next to the desk is a door you didn't realize was there.  You open it, not sure what to expect, and are surprised to find a small bathroom.  It's just a toilet, a few hooks with towels, and a very small shower stall with a small shelf.   Trying to imagine Soap stuffed in there is pretty comical.  Trying to imagine Ghost stuffed in there is almost hysterical.

In the shower itself, there was some shampoo and a bar of soap.  You felt the towels and gave them a sniff test.  They seem clean, anyway.  You thought about waiting for Soap to get back to make sure.  You probably should wait for him to get back so you could figure out what the plan is.

But that shower was calling your name.

And you had no way to even get a hold of Johnny.

And you absolutely were not leaving the safety of his room to try to find him.

You'll try to make it quick…

---

I tried not to be gone for long.  Barely had left ye’re side since ye were in the hospital, and really didn't want to leave ye alone while ye were here for the first time on base.

Left long enough to get ye're things washed.  Figured ye'd forgive me for at least doing that.  Made a right bit of noise trying to put them away.  Ye didn' even flinch.  Ye were so tired.  So peaceful.  Fuckin’ beau'iful.

Got called away by Price.  Figured it wouldn't take too long.  Ended up taking a few hours.  Hoped ye'd still be asleep by the time I got back.  Gonna have to fix ye not havin’ a phone quick.  Makes me nervous ye not havin’ a way to contact any of us.

Grabbed a few things from supply on the way back to ye.  Shampoo, found a tiny bottle of conditioner, bar of soap, deodorant, and a razer.  Basics to get ye by.  Knew ye'd want a shower when ye finally woke up.

'Bout gave me a heart attack when I opened my door and didn't see ye where I left ye.  Took me a sec to realize my shower was running.  Went to have a knock and get ye're attention and saw the door had popped open.  Didn’ have time to tell ye the bloody thing likes to do that.

Really wanted to join ye.  Too bad the damn shower barely fit just me.

Ducked away before ye turned and saw me and thought I was tryin’ to steal a look.  Busied myself with placing things on my desk.  Looked over and saw my knife on the night stand.  Been lookin’ for that knife.  Went to grab it and saw somethin’ pokin’ out of the drawer.  Opened it long enough to see it's part of a box, pushing it back in and shoving the drawer shut.

Though’ I had that drawer shut tight from earlier.  Need to pay more attention.

---

You heard a thump and quickly turned toward the door of the bathroom, seeing it cracked open.

Panic.

“J-Johnny?”

“Oi?”

Oh thank fuck.

Panic subsides.  Slowly.

“You scared the everloving shit out of me for a second.”

You hear him chuckle a little.  “Heard ye in there, forgot to mention that door likes to open if ye don’ shut it just right.”

You quickly rinse the soap from your head and off your body before turning off the water and grabbing a towel and starting to dry off.  It's only then you realize.

“Ummm… Soap?”

“Oi?”

“I left all my clothes out there on your desk…”

“Ye fancy on givin’ me a reverse strip tease, hen?”

“Hilarious.  So hilarious.  Mmhmm.  Do you mind?”  You wrap the towel as tightly around yourself as you can get it, and poke just your head outside of the door at him.

He'd grabbed the pile of clothes already, standing next to the door and grinning that fucking grin at you.  You stand up on your very tippy toes to give him a quick kiss as a thank you before pulling the door shut behind you to get changed.

It takes quite a few minutes of struggling, since raising your arms above your head presented itself to be a challenge, but you finally get everything on and in place before bouncing and stumbling your way out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your head to get your hair somewhat dry.  For now you stuff the other wet towel and your dirty scrubs underneath his desk, just so it's out of the way.  You'll figure out a dirty clothes hamper at some point.

Finally you turn and face Johnny, who is lounging on his cot and playing on his phone.  “I’ll need to make a list of things I'm gonna need.  Like deodorant.”

“Deodorant the desk, hen.  Grabbed one for ye.”

A turn and look and see a small travel sized stick sitting there.  You grab it and pop the top off, carefully taking your arms out of your shirt sleeves and putting it on right there in front of him.  Not like he can see much anyways. 

A couple of smell free pits later, you shove your arms back into your shirt, and grab the hoodie of his you left in the bathroom, carefully working yourself into it.

“Stealin’ clothes from me now, bonnie?”

“I'll return it just as soon as I replace some things.”  You adjust the hoodie over your body and sit on the very edge of his cot, which he scoots to make room for you.  “Hey, do you have a comb I can borrow from you?”

He sits up at first reaches for the small table by his bed, opening it and rummaging around for a moment.  He finds one and hands it off to you before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him while he goes back to his phone.

You smile to yourself, face only reddening slightly, hiding it by pulling off the towel from your head and starting to dry your hair, working through some of the tangles that have already decided to form and be a pain in your ass.  “Gonna need some conditioner for next time.”

“Brought ye some of that too, didn’ think to hand it off to ye while ye were still showering.”

You reach over and tap his phone with the comb before getting back to work on your hair.  “Definitely need one of those.  At this point give me a stupid flip phone, I just need something to get ahold of you guys when you have me stuffed in a room.”  You switch hands with the comb and wince when you reach up, going back to the other hand and working on it the best you can.

Johnny sets his phone down on the stand, sitting up and taking the comb from you.  Sliding up behind and working on the other side.  “Ye alrigh?”

“Mhm.  Things are still healing I guess.  Just feels awkward to raise my arm.”

“Happens.  It'll get better.  Had a few shots like that.”

You laugh a little, tilting your head down and looking at your hands.  “Never thought I’d ever exchange gunshot wound stories.”

“Be the only one you get to share, hen.”

He hands the comb back to you over your shoulder, and you turn yourself around enough to look at him.  

“‘m so sorry, lass.  For everything.  For all this.  For not being there.”

“Babes.  You don't have to apologize to me.”

“I'll be apologizin’ til the end of time for it.”

“But you shouldn't.  You didn't do this.  You didn't pull the trigger.  None of you did.  Part of me… a very small part of me sorta… expected isn't the word I want… knew it came with the territory?  I guess?  I know what you do for a living, I'm not an eedjit, Johnny.  The 141 deals with a lot of fucked up people.”

“Never should feel in danger with me, bonnie.”

“Don't.  Just don't.  Please?”

He sighs.  You know he wants to say more.  But he leaves it for now.  His hand is on your side, rubbing lightly.  Right over where you were shot.  You put your hand on top of his and squeeze.

“Not allowed to feel guilty.  I voted.”

There.  A little chuckle, anyway.  And a tiny hint of that grin.  “Don't suppose I can take a nap before we need to do that debrief thing with Price.”

“I can debrief righ’ now if ye want.”

Oh you little shit.  You and that grin are going to get in trouble some day.

You seat him in the arm.  “Johnny!”

“Can’ tell me I never offered.”  He gently pulls you down next to him on the cot, making you the little spoon and curling up with you.  “Haven't said ye were awake yet.  Nap up, lass.”

“I'll have to thank you later.  Too tired.”

He adjusts, pulling the blanket over you.  You are completely out before he can even kiss your cheek.

Chapter 19: Debrief

You are standing outside Price's office, waiting on him for debrief.  Thankfully you have Soap, Ghost, and Gaz waiting with you.  The side eyes and the whispers from anyone else that walk by make you uncomfortable.  At one point Ghost and Soap move to stand in front of you and stare down anyone that tries to look your way.

 

Finally Price opens up the door, stepping aside to let you all in.  Ghost walks ahead, followed by you and then Soap, Gaz taking up the rear.  You get led to the chair in front of Price's desk, sitting down while the others pull their chairs up next to yours.  Price takes his own chair behind his desk with a heavy sigh.  Tossing his hat onto the desk top before grabbing a cigar from a drawer and lighting it before starting to go through the spread of folders and paperwork before him.  Mumbling to himself.  A few puffs of his cigar later, he finally starts speaking.  “Everything that is said in this room is to stay in this room.”

 

Gaz reaches over and gives your arm a gentle squeeze.  You guess as a show of support.  You look over at him and smile with a little nod before turning your gaze back to Price.

 

“Gee Dad , just tell me you don't trust me why don't ya.”

 

That gets a half smile out of Price.  “Hate that Soap told you about that.”  He opens one of the files, taking out a stapled stack of papers, flipping through them a moment.

 

“If it keeps the other soldiers off my back thinking you are my dad?  Using it as much as possible.”

 

“They won't get near you, little miss.  Not with any of us around.”  Gaz offers up.  You wanna tell him that he isn't nearly as intimidating as the others… but you leave that be.  

 

“Things are about to get a lot more rough, love.  Like Soap said.  Lies and cooperation from you will go a very long way here.  Part of that lie starts with Soap.”  Price leans over his desk and hands you a file folder.  You take it, slowly opening it and start reading.  A lot of the information has been blacked out and redacted.  Understandable, you have absolutely no clearance, and don't even know if Price should even be letting you in on this much.

 

You flip the page and your heart almost stops.

 

The page may be filled with mostly black bars, but this one sticks out like a sore thumb.

 

KIA: 1 - John “Soap” MacTavish

 

You take in a deep breath, letting it out slow and swallowing hard.  Even though you know it isn't true, seeing it written is still jarring.  You close the file and place it back on the desk.  You don't want to read it further.  “So apparently I see dead people?”

 

“Part of the lies that have to be told until Makarov is taken down.  Also part of the complications at hand, love.”  Price sucks on his cigar again, leaning back in his chair a moment.  Soap stands and starts pacing the office.  Hands sliding through the mohawk.

 

“Did the poor bastard get a proper funeral at least?”

 

“Sorta, little miss.  We did end up spreading his ashes…”  Gaz says, a smile hinted on his face.

 

“Dare I ask who the poor soul was you spread in Soap's absence?

 

“Few boxes of Price's finest stogies went into that urn.  Brought a tear to the old man's eye letting those ashes go.”  Ghost pipes up.  You smile a little.  “Oh good, I wasn't sure what to get you for Christmas, John.”

 

Price looks less than amused.  “They are investigating the… the attack.  On you.  And they are going over the fire.  Once that is done, we will need to go over the findings.  More paperwork.  The death benefits of Soap.”

 

You nod.  Not exactly understanding what that means at the moment.  You assume signatures by you and whatnot.  If anything, maybe you have some pictures back up somewhere that can show you what you had in your room and other household items.  So you can claim whatever with insurance.  Or however that whole process goes.

 

Price clears his throat, getting back to the matters at hand yet again.  He picks up a folder and holds it out towards you, which you lean over to grab and start paging through it.  “Protective custody.  The 141 has been assigned to you until further notice, as this is not a… normal civilian situation.”  

 

“All this time and you just now tell me I'm not normal?  Tsk.  Figures.”  Lightening the mood doesn't seem to be working anymore.  Time for serious.  “Not normal as in..?”

 

“For starters, You’ve personally been targeted by the leader of the Ultranationalists.”

 

“Who knew I'd get so lucky.”  Sarcasm dripping from you before you snap the folder shut again when you get to the ‘Wanted’ folder of Makarov, rubbing the part of your forehead that has started throbbing.  “Since there's not a report about my death, I assume I’m still a meat popsicle?”

 

Price looks confused.  “I'm alive and not barbecued?”

 

“Oh.  Well.  Military thought it was best, love.”

 

“And what did the 141 think was best?”

 

“We'd have properly smoked the cigars for your urn, hen.”  Soap pipes up.  Still pacing.  

 

“Aww, you guys really do like me.”  You shift in your chair slightly.  “So if I didn't get a joint funeral with my dearly departed husband, then it almost sounds like the military is going to try use me as… bait.”

 

The sound of a fist hitting a wall makes you almost jump from your seat.  You turn and look while Ghost stands, going to Johnny and talking to him.  Too low for it to be heard.  A pep talk of sorts.  

 

You slowly turn back around, hand at your side from the sudden movement before.  Facing Price again.  “Sorry.  Didn't realize it was a sore subject.”

 

“Not your fault, love.  None of this is.”

 

“Won't make me stop feeling any less guilty.”

 

“Oi, they're'll be none of that, hen!”  Soap yells at you since Ghost won't let him go yet.  Not done talking to him.

 

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to ground yourself.  Hands forming into fists.  Closing your eyes.  It's not helping like it usually does.  

 

“ Look , I've been trying to deal with this.  I've been trying not to lose my absolute shit.  And so far I would like to think I've been able to keep things level headed.  So please, do not try to start telling me how to feel, or how to think, because you will not win with me, Johnathon .”

 

The whole room sort of stills for a moment.  Very rarely do you ever lose your temper.  And this was barely even a blip on that radar.  But you were reaching the end of your tether.

 

You sigh heavily before turning back to Price, your face red with embarrassment.  “Sorry…”

 

Price reaches into his desk, getting a set of keys and setting them on the part of the desk in front of you.  “One key is for your own room, next to Soap and Ghost.  In case you just need a moment to decompress.  Moment to relax.  Your own cot.  The other key will get you into the Officer's Lounge.  Access to the mini kitchen, TV, couch, those sort of things.  You don't have full access to the compound, you will need to be escorted by someone to go into anything more secure.”

 

He then reaches into a pocket of his fatigues and sets a cell phone next to the keys.  “So you can keep in contact with us.  If you need to contact anyone, we can figure something else out, but best you keep that number just within the 141 for now.”

 

You try to give Price an encouraging smile.  But you know it just comes off as sad.  “Don't need to or care to contact anyone else.  Although maybe I should contact my job at some point… not now.  Just… later.”

 

The very last thing you get from Price is just a plain yellow sticky with an address on it.  “Safe house address that you need to use if you need to order anything online.  Have it sent there, we will intercept it.  We will have to inspect things before you can have them, of course.”

 

“Got it, hold off on replacing my dragon dildos.”  They all give you a look.   Except Price.  Poor man looks confused.  “I don't want to know what that is, do I love?”

 

“No Captain, you do not.”

 

“You know you don't have to address me as Captain.”

 

“Would you prefer daddy? ”

 

“Captain it is then.”

 

You snicker.  You have to get a rise out of him somehow.

 

“I don't suppose I can get back to a store to get some things that I can't wait to be ordered?”  You lift up a foot and show him some very sad looking flip flops that you had bought off a nurse to not be barefoot.  Your own shoes had to be tossed.  They'd been soaked clean through with your own blood.

 

“Gaz, Ghost, or myself will arrange it.  Soap being a dead man, it's best he stay out of public eye for now.”

 

“I don't wanna make Ghostcicle more uncomfortable if I don't have to.”

 

“We'll get it sorted, dove.”  Ghost gruffs from the other side of the room.

 

“One last thing, love.  You can decide.  For comfort-like.  Being "married" to Soap…”

 

“If Soap is still up for it, I wouldn't mind.  Might keep down some questions.  And leave a buffer against others.”

 

“You really wanna keep them away little miss, tell ‘em Ghost is your hubs.”

 

“Hmm… a throuple?  Kinky.  May fall back on it of Soap needs some oats to soak.”

 

“I'll just pretend I know what you are talking about, love.”

 

“I'll send you some definitions, screenshots, and diagrams to explain it, Cap.”

 

“I wish you wouldn't.”

 

“I am in your custody until further notice, with a cell phone, internet, and way too much time on my hands.  I can do a lot worse.”

 

Price grunts, pulling out another cigar.  “I'll let you know if something further comes up, love.  Dismissed.  Erm… not you, love.  Just… go.  Go go.”  he waves his hand at you, smoke swirling with each hand gesture.

 

You stand up and wait for the guys to do the same.  Gaz opens the door for everyone, Ghost leading the way out of the office.  Soap close behind.  Gaz the rear.  Seems to be the natural pecking order of the boys.

 

“Go on ahead, be righ’ behind ye.”  Soap tells Simon and Kyle, grabbing you by the wrist to keep you close.  Ghost nods and steps ahead, grabbing Gaz by the vest and pulling him along.

 

You lean against the wall, bringing your free hand up and rubbing your face.  Still embarrassed about before.

 

“Ye alrigh’?”  He lets go of your wrist and slips your hand into his, lacing his fingers into yours.

 

You nod.  Letting go of his hand to dig the heels of your palms into your eyes a little.  Keeping them there to just blank out the world for a moment, except for the kaleidoscope of color forming behind your eyelids.  Which only works until Soap takes your hands away from your face, slipping your arms around his neck and wrapping you up in his own.  You bury your face against him.  Melting into him.  Soap runs a hand over the back of your head, smoothing your hair down.

 

“I'm sorry, Bubbles.  I'm…”

 

“Nuh uh.  I was ou’ of line.  Know better than to tell ye what to do.”

 

You breathe out a slight chuckle.  Pulling back and looking up into his eyes.  “Yeah, what were you thinkin?  You were just begging to be yelled at, huh.”

 

He smiles down at you.  Tilting and kissing your forehead.  “Should also know by now how hangry ye get.  Let's get some food in ye, aye?”

 

“Oh yeah.  Food.  Food is a thing.  Food might be alright.”  Soap takes your hand and pulls you along, catching up to the others as they wait at the end of the hall.  You then ask, “So what do you guys do for food around here?” 

 

“We try to avoid it, little miss.  It's not bad , but… well… that's about all I can say nice about it.  Let's see what they have, and we can go from there.”

 

“Teach me your ways, Gazatron.”  

 

Gaz slips beside you, wrapping an arm around your hips and leading you ahead of the others towards the mess hall.

 

---

---

Meat popsicle.

 

Some of the shite ye come up with.

 

Watch too many movies, ye do hen.

 

Be watching a heck of a lot more since you are with us.  On base.  Never though’ that'd ever happen.  Best place for ye to be with Ultranationalists on the loose.

 

Worst place for ye to be with Makarov on the loose.

 

Bait.  Ye caught on pretty quick.  Too smart for ye're own good.  They do want to use ye as bait.  Bunch of shite.  They don't know how, but you bein’ alive is enough.

 

I fought ‘em.  Fought hard.  They shoulda let ye die in the fire.  Let us both be dead.  Give us aliases, safe house, live a somewhat decent life together.  Least til he was fuckin’ dead.  

 

Ye're hurtin’.  Fuck, are ye.  But ye're also takin’ this like a fuckin’ champ.  So fuckin proud of ye, m'girl.  If it was anyone else, they'd probably be dead by now.  

 

But ye aren't just anyone else, are ye bonnie?

Chapter 20: Thinking

“Zombie apocalypse.  Johnny's been bitten.  It'll be a while before he changes.  Let's say a few hours.  Do you kill him as he stands, or do you wait for him to change?”

 

“I'm not answering that, dove.” 

 

“Ok, but if it was me?”

 

“...I'd let you live for as long as you were useful.”

 

“Bullshit, you'd put a bullet in my head the moment you even thought I was bit.”

 

Ghost chuckles.  Fucker.

 

“Ok, fine.  Just me, but slow as hell.  Haven't been bitten, and I'm not injured.  I'm just my usual fat and slow self.”

 

“Can't keep up, you get left behind.  Like herd animals.  Slow, sick, and weak are the first to go.”

 

“...Sacrifice.”

 

“You catch on quick, dove.”

 

“Seems to be a running theme for my life.  Now… let's say it was Johnny …”

 

“Not quick enough, though.”

 

You set yourself off in a giggle fit.  You love these little back and forth sessions with Simon.  You know Simon well enough that he would definitely take out anyone that would get in the way of his own survival.  Or Johnny's, for that matter.  A sort of bro code between them.  

 

Ghost has taken you out shopping.  He actually insisted on being the one to take you.  You had asked Price.  Who delegated it to Gaz.  And Ghost pulled rank.  Johnny is still a dead man, and even though it would have been fun to disguise him, it was best to keep him behind.  

 

He's left the skull mask in the Jeep and opted for a black med mask.  You had got them for him ages ago.  As one of those ‘have and not need it, need it and not have it’ purchases.  He knew you'd never be offended if they were collecting dust in the back of a drawer.  Did it make your heart swell 10 sizes and make you want to clap your hands with glee that he is using them, even though he didn't have to?  Yup.  Were you going to?  …well yeah, but not in front of Ghost.

 

You are currently trying to find a pair of shoes that will fit you at least halfway decent.  You'd already gone and got your preferred shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and all the other products necessary to you.  And pillows.  You.  Needed.  Pillows.  You should probably be hurrying back to base, but it was nice to get out.  And Simon wasn't rushing things… yet.  

 

“How mad was he when you told him he couldn't come with?

 

“Worse than a toddler.”

 

“That might be my fault.”

 

Ghost looks at you with a raised brow.

 

“There… may have been some talk about a thong.  And… shoving… of ass.  Into said thong.”

 

“The man's almost died twice, dove.  You'll take him out before any bullet does.”

 

You laugh.  It feels nice to laugh.  “I really should start reeling it in.  I feel terrible.  I took away his bang bunk.”

 

“His wha’?”

 

“Bang bunk, fuck hut, thot cot, whatever you guys call it.  The one place he had to have some privacy and actually get laid since I'd moved in.”

 

“He's fine, dove.”

 

“Is he?”  You try to ask nonchalantly, but the state he gives you tells you he knows there is more behind it.  You groan and kick off the shoes you have on, trying on another pair.  “Look, I know for a fact that there are things he will not talk to me about, just like there's things I won't talk to him about.  So without details… is he?  Is he really fine?”

 

“He's tough.”

 

“So are you, but then you go and remind me that deep inside there's an adorable teddy that needs a hug.  And no, I'm not making fun of it, that will be my most prized possession from here to eternity.  I just… worry.”

 

“So you've said before.”

 

“Good, then you know how my brain works.”  You sit down and properly lace up the shoes you are wearing.  You cant stand your sad pathetic sandals, and opt to wear the shoes through the rest of shopping.  You can scan them at checkout and out them back on.  You toss the box into the cart.  “Alright, these are good enough.  I think we can blow this joint for now.  I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but won't remember until we get back to base.”

---

Once you get back, you drop your things off into your room and put some of it away.  Well, it's designated as yours, but you don't exactly spend a whole lot of time in it.  Soap is usually your designated babysitter, so you spend almost every waking and sleeping moment with him.  Being a dead man isn't all it's hyped up to be when you have to lay low and get sacked with the boring stuff.

 

You feel bad for him, having to be cooped up all the time.  Not allowed to leave base.  You've been encouraging him to get out of his room more and to fall into more of a routine.  Especially training.  You know it's one of his happy places.  You usually stand back and watch.  On occasion he's pulled you in and tried to teach you some things.  You figure it might do you some good, too.  It's helped loosen you up a little, anyways.

 

Soap always ends up with some sort of audience, especially if he's sparring.  And you can clearly see why.  He's good.  Really good.  It's fun watching him go against Gaz or Ghost.  Price even getting into the mix is entertaining.  They can be so serious about it.  It's interesting to see them in their element.  A whole different side to the boys.

 

The staring can get uncomfortable, though.  The eyes directed at you.  You get it, you are a spectacle just by being there.  Being in the care of the 141 makes you seem that much more interesting.  And supposedly being married to Soap?  That just makes for more gossip in and of itself.  The whispers, or entire conversations ceasing just because you are in the vicinity is maddening.

 

You sit back onto your cot, pulling out your phone and sending a text to Soap.

 

———————

 

You:  I'm back, Ghost left me in my room.

 

🧼:  Solid.

 

You:  Liquid!

 

🧼:  ?

 

You:  Solid Snake… Liquid Snake… Metal Gear!

 

🧼:  Sometimes I worry about you, hen.  Finishing up, will come grab you for lunch.

 

———————

 

You get the new pillows out and the covers you already washed for them, sliding them on and tossing them onto the top of your footlocker for now.  You then start putting things away, especially all your new shower things into your shower caddy.  You are almost excited to be able to shower later.  You'll finally be able to smell like yourself again.

 

With things stashed away,  you settle onto your cot and grab your Simon teddy, snuggling it into your lap.  Resting your head on it and start scrolling on your phone.  Going through various apps and saving ideas on what to maybe get the boys for Christmas.  Focusing on anything they may have lost in the fire that they would appreciate a replacement for.

 

Soap does his secret knock on your door, which you lean over and unlock for him to come in.  Though you hear him struggling, so you set your phone and teddy aside, standing to open the door for him.  He's carrying a box, which he bullies through the door and sets on the floor.  “This came while ye were out.”  He takes a knife from his belt and hands it off to you, flopping onto your cot and making himself comfortable, closing his eyes to relax a minute.  You shove him over just enough to have a place to sit and open your box.

 

“Order somethin’ good for yeself?”

 

“For both of us, actually.”

 

After a moment of ripping through the plastic, you decide to whack him in the face with one of your new pillows. 

 

“Oi!”  He grabs it out of your hands to inspect it.  “When'd ye get this?”

 

“When I was out with Ghost.”  You whack him in the face with the second pillow and giggle.

 

“Oi!  Didn’ come in here for the abuse!”  He takes both of them and shoves them under his head to give them a test run.

 

“You're right, next time I hit you with a pillow it'll have to be when we are in our bra and undies and painting our toe nails.”  You finish ripping open the box, setting aside a smaller package that was inside for the moment and working on unwrapping your new super soft blanket that you got to replace the itchy military issued abomination.

 

“Ye make a lot of promises, and here we are.  Didn’ even get to go with you and see that thong.”

 

“Good, you'd have lost your breakfast.”  You snicker as you cut open the last package from inside the box flipping the knife closed and handing it back Soap before inspecting the contents.

 

Not bad.  He'll hate it.  Especially if…

 

“So I was wondering…”

 

“Don't hurt that pretty li’l brain of ye’rs.”

 

“Hey, you're the one that’s lost some brain cells.”

 

“And still have more smarts than most.”  He reaches over, his fingers lightly playing with your hair.  “What ye thinkin, m'girl?”

 

M'girl…  he's been calling me that a lot lately.  Oh Johnny…

 

“Thinking that you have been attached at my hip since I was in the hospital, and you are in desperate need of a break from me.”

 

“No ‘m not.”

 

“Yes you are.  I can sleep on my own, I got my best protectors in the rooms right next to me, and you can have some much needed ‘me time’.  And Gaz can watch me for a while.”

 

“Are ye sick of me, hen?”

 

“Not at all, I just figured…”

 

“‘m not abandonin’ ye.”

 

“Who said you were?”

 

“Wouldn'' wan’ to spend a night away from my wife .”

 

You snicker and wave your hand off at the thought.  “You can pass it off as a marital spat.”  

 

“Why would we wan’ anyone to think we're fightin’?”

 

“Brownie points?  Some people are really into that sort of thing, and will swoop right in and make you feel better about it.”

 

With a sigh he sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, resting his chin against your shoulder.  “Where's this comin’ from, hm?”

 

You lean against him slightly.  “There's a lot that's happened lately.  Understatement of the century, really.  But ya know, leaving for the mission, getting shot in the head, waking up from a coma, then me being shot and blah blah blah… you haven't left my side since I woke up.  Not more than a couple hours, anyway.”

 

His hand is on the back of your neck, rubbing gently.  “Are ye sick of me?”

 

“Already told you no, goofy.  But you have got to be absolutely sick of me by now and could use a break.”

 

“Have I told ye I needed one?”

 

“No, but I'm insecure and in my head a lot, so while you haven't said it, part of me thinks it's because you think you have to treat me like a delicate flower who will wilt at any moment.”

 

“Wilt, nothin’, ye hold ye're own far better than a lot a people I know, hen.”

 

“Sure as hell doesn't feel like it.”  You tilt and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Let it be known, I'm giving you a ‘hall pass’ or whatever it's called these days cause even though we aren't married, everyone else around here thinks otherwise and you could totally take advantage of that.  Despite my ‘no sharing’ ideals.”

 

“Has someone caught ye're eye and tha's what this is abou’?”

 

“Oh god no, this is strictly for your sake babes.  I'm fairly certain it's been ages since you've been laid, and you have needs, and I'm just keeping them in mind while we figure all this out.”

 

“ Tha's what this is all abou’?”

 

“I know, I'm a shit wife for trying to get my husband laid.”

 

He's gets quiet for now, somewhere inside that head of his.  You pat his lag and stand up, turning to him and holding your hands out.  “C'mon.  I was promised food.”

 

He keeps his eyes on you while grabbing your hands, barely hanging onto you while standing.  You offer him a smile and move back and open the door for him.

 

“Lead the way.  Darling .”

 

---

 

Really?

 

Really, m'girl?

 

Tha's wha’ ye've been agonizin’ over?

 

Tha's wha’ ye think I need?

 

If only ye knew, hen.

 

If only.  Ye.  Knew.

Chapter 21: Ring

Notes:

I just wanna say that I appreciate the hell out of each and every one of you reading this. It's become an outlet I didn't even really know I needed, and with so many of you enjoying it, it just brings me happiness.

It's been rough as hell around here this week, and I've written and re-written this chapter several times. I'm happy with what it is now than how it started.

I don't know where we're going, but we'll get there eventually!

P.S. - just as a general reminder to all ya'll, cause I've needed the reminder myself many times this week alone - self care is important! Especially if you are in a caregiving role, be it at home or at work. Don't forget to take some time for yourself. Even if it's just a few minutes that you can spare.

You are important too. ❤️

“Have you ever fired a gun, love?”  

 

Price was standing with you outside of the firing range, watching Gaz and Ghost shooting targets and training some newer recruits.  Soap was running through one of the gun courses at the moment, which you could watch on the monitors close by.  

 

They just got back from a mission to go after Makarov again.  Unfortunately, they didn't get him this time.  You had been left in the hands of someone named Laswell.  You’d spent most of your time either  in Soap's room or your own so you were out of the way and not a bother to anyone.  This is the first time seeing them since they got back.  They had a debrief the moment they got in, and now seem to be punishing themselves with training instead of resting.

 

Watching Johnny, you start to get it now.  How his callsign is ‘Soap’.  Because he's ‘good at cleaning house’.  And not because ‘when things get really dirty, you get yourself some Soap to wash off’ like you originally guessed.  And was taken way dirtier than you had originally made it out to be.  Classic Soap.

 

“BB gun, pellet gun, shotgun, and a potato gun.  Never shot a handgun.”

 

“A potato what?”  Price looks at you, almost with some intrigue.

 

“Potato gun.  One of my dad's friends made one, and I got to try it out a few times.  Tried shooting the old weathervane off of the barn.  Dinged it a few times, never got it to fall.”

 

He shakes his head, but you see a hint of a smile under that mustache of his.  “The rifles?”

 

“Begged my grandpa to let me shoot targets with the BB and pellet gun in the backyard with the other boys.  Gramps wasn't a fan of it.  ‘Man stuff’, he'd always tell me.  Probably made me more determined to do stuff with all of them.  And shot some clay pigeons with the shotgun on a few occasions.  Don't ask me make or models, I don't even remember.”

 

“Any good?”

 

You shrug.  “Decent.  It's been well over a dozen years since I've shot anything, though.”

 

“Should get you up on target practice, love.  Boys would have a field day with it.”  

 

You nod whole watching the monitors again.  You both go quiet for some time, just watching everything go on in front of you.  Price is the first to speak up.  “We're getting close, love.  Makarov.  He's running out of hiding places.”

 

You nod again, crossing your arms over your stomach.  Right where you'd been shot.  “You'll get him.  I have faith in you boys.”

 

“For what it's worth, the 141 isn't the only one trying to find him.”

 

“Maybe I'm just biased John, but if anyone has a chance at getting to him, it'll be the 141.  You are the best of the best.  And have one more than he thinks you do.  You take Soap, and he won't be expecting it.”

 

Price grunts a reply.  By now, the training sessions are being dismissed.  Some recruits pass you and Price.  One of them is staring at you as they walk by, and you stare back, lifting your chin up at them in acknowledgement.  If they are going to look, you may as well make it known that you see it.  They end up looking away, though you catch them turning to glance at you.  You end up glaring at them.  

 

Soap comes around the corner, eyes scanning until they land on you.  His face immediately lights up at the sight of you.  Your face softens at the sight of him, half waving with a smile on your face while he makes his way towards you.  

 

“In all the years that I've known Soap, I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you, love.”  You look over at Price, almost wanting to roll your eyes at him.  You've seen Johnny have hearts in his eyes over a cheeseburger, and he's never looked at you the same way.  But when you look back at Soap, and his face lights up even more, shining that fucking grin at you…

 

Part of you starts the wonder...

 

When did he start looking at me like that?  …Always.  He's always looked at you like that, silly.  He's always been a huge flirt.  A huge cuddly teddy bear in his own way.

 

…Right?

 

That mission.  The one he came back from, banged up and bruised, and wanted to be tucked into bed.

 

When we napped together.

 

When he asked me to move in.

 

Was it then?

 

You brush off the thought and push it aside for now.  You want to say something to Price, but Soap drops his gear by your feet and wraps you up in his arms, lifting you off the ground and planting several kisses on your cheek.  “Fuckin’ hell, aren't ye a sight.  Hope ye weren't bored out ye're head watching us, hen.”

 

You laugh slightly.  “I already tried being Price's secretary, but since he wouldn't bang me on his desk it wasn't nearly as fun.”

 

You see his face almost darken when his eyes shift and look over at Price.  “That was a joke , dude.”

 

He sets you back down and nods before going to Price, addressing him and chatting with him for a moment.  You aren't even paying attention to what is being said, just watching Soap for a moment.  His hand reaches over and catches yours in a gentle squeeze, almost like he's just checking to make sure you haven't got too far away from him.

 

He did this just about every time that you were around to watch him train, or spar, or… well, do anything, really.  Acted in a way similar to this.  But you figured he did it because he was playing his part as the happily married husband in this faux marriage.  But maybe…

 

You are reading too much into it.  It's just Johnny being Johnny… 

 

“Alrigh’, thanks Cap.”  He turns back to you and smiles again, Price making his way towards Ghost and Gaz.  Releasing his hand, you bend down and grab some of his gear, starting to walk off towards his room.  He's right next to you a moment later, arm around your shoulder.

 

“Ye alright’?”

 

He keeps asking me that.  And I keep saying I'm fine.  And I have been.  Mostly.

 

You nod as you reach into your shirt for keys hanging from a lanyard around your neck, unlocking his door for him and leading the way inside, setting his gear on his desk for him.  He shuts the door behind him and starts putting his things away.

 

“Ye can stop lyin’ to me at any time, lass.”

 

With an eye roll you plaster your best smile on for him.  “Nothing to lie about.  Everything's fine.”

 

Fake it ‘til you make, right?

 

“Would ye stop it already?”

 

“Stop what?”  You used to be better at the whole fake smile thing.  You weren't hardly ever called out on it like you have been lately.  

 

Soap dropping something onto the floor makes you nearly jump out of your skin, yelping with surprise.  You hand flies to cover your mouth to stop yourself from making any more noise.

 

Fucking hell…

 

“Hey hey… easy…  easy m'girl.”  He turns towards you and pulls you against his chest.  It's only when his arms are around you that you realize you had started trembling.

 

You let him hold you for a minute before you pull back, clearing your throat.  “Sorry, just scared the hell outta me.”  You try to laugh it off a little.  

 

What the fuck is wrong with me?

 

“Hey.  Talk to me, hen.”

 

I have been, silly.

 

“Hen?”

 

What?

 

“Hen.”

 

You look up at Johnny when he grabs you by the chin and tilts your face up towards his, blinking a few times to try to stop the tears that showed up suddenly.  

 

“Wha's wrong?”

 

You look at him for a moment, shaking your head out of his grasp before sitting down on his cot.  “Nothing.  Sorry.  I've just been in my head a lot lately.  I'll get over it, babes.”

 

“No.  Not nothin’.  Wha's going on in that pretty head of ye'res?”

 

You sigh while looking at him, those blue eyes piercing into yours like he can read everything about you if only he tried hard enough.

 

“Price said you were getting close to Makarov.”

 

“Aye, found one of his hideouts this time.”

 

“So that means you'll end up facing him again.”

 

“Tha's a big part of the plan, hen.”

 

“It shouldn't be.”

 

“Why not?’

 

“Just wish it wasn't.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I don't want you to have to face him again after what he's done to us.”

 

There it is.  The brunt of the situation before you.  The elephant in the room about the man you love having to face the man that tried to kill him.

 

Makarov could try again.  And there is a chance he would succeed.

 

“Lass…”

 

You use the sleeve of your shirt to mop up the tears that start falling down your cheeks, then ball them up over your fists and just place them over your eyes, desperately trying to get yourself back under control.  Your resolve completely breaks when he sits next to you and pulls you onto his lap to cradle you, rocking slightly and running his hand over your back.  You bury your face into his shoulder and start soaking his shirt.  His face is pressed into your hair.

 

You tilt your head just enough to talk after a moment, forehead pressed into his neck.  You feel bad seeing his shirt wet from your tears.  “I’m sorry, I have no right crying about any of this, especially to you.”

 

“Ye've every right to be cryin’ to any of us.  Ye're life's been upended ‘cause of me.  Ye've lost everythin’.”

 

You shake your head against him.  “I haven't lost everything , Johnny.  But it's not that… I just… I have no right to be crying to you and I have no right to not be fine right now.”

 

“Ye've got every right.  Ye've got nothin’ left.”

 

“I have more than most, Soap.  My stuff was just stuff .  None of it's really lost.”

 

He reaches his hand up, pulling your hair out of your face and even tucking some of it behind your ear.  “But all the lil’ trinkets, ye're clothes, ye're car even.”

 

You sniffle, sitting up off of him but hiding your face a moment longer before dropping your hands and shaking your head, picking at the hangnail on your hand.  “It's just stuff.  Completely replaceable.  You aren't, though.  I've almost lost you twice now, and it's twice too much.”

 

“Almost lost ye too, m'girl.  Bullet could have gone off by a few centimeters, and ye coulda completely bled out.”

 

“But I'm fi-”

 

“If ye tell me ye're fine one more time, gonna have to kick ye're ass.”

 

You scoff, wiping away at stray tears with your sleeve again.

 

“Spill, hen.  Let it out.  Tell me what ye're thinkin.”

 

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Staring at your tear covered sleeves.

 

“Alright.  I'm not fine.  Haven't exactly been fine since I had the barrel of Makarov's gun to the back of my head.  Definitely not since being shot.  Been trying to be fine because of you guys.  You've been shot loads of times, and have been through a billion times worse things than I have.  I should be able to deal with it just the one time…  I'm trying.   Guess we know now I'm not cut out for the military…”

 

“I dunno, I think ye'd look pretty sexy in uniform.”

 

That coaches a little smile out of you.  “I was going to say that I don't think they'd have one big enough to shove the entirety of my ass into, but if they got a helmet big enough for that head of yours…”

 

“Oi!  Ye always makin’ fun of my head!”

 

“Yeah well, it's hard not to.  I kinda like that big head of yours, anyway.”  You tilt back enough and grab his head to plant a kiss right on the scar where he was shot in by Makarov.  By the time you let him go he has that shit eating grin plastered on his face.

 

That grin just might be the death of me, Bubbles.

 

You smile just a little, knowing that with your eyes and nose all red from crying, not much more than that is really worth the effort.  When you try to extract yourself from his arms and lap, his grip only tightens on you.  “N jus’ where do ye think ye're goin’?”

 

“Well for one… I would like some tissues for my face.  But for two, I need to grab something from my room.”

 

He unhooks his arms from you for a moment to let you crawl off his lap.  At least, that's what he lets you think he is doing before scooping an arm under your legs and using the other to support your back, standing and carrying you over to the door.

 

Your arms fly around his neck to hold on.  “I can walk you know, I'm not an invalid!”

 

“Ye might be able to walk, but I'd rather ye didn't.”  He nudges you, and you dramatically roll your eyes at him whole reaching over and opening the door for him, holding on tighter despite him almost putting zero effort in carrying you around.  You take the lanyard off your neck and unlock your door when you get to it, throwing it open so he can carry you through.  Once in your room you let go of his neck, waiting for him to put you down.

 

And wait.

 

And wait.

 

“Can you please put me down now?”

 

“I could, but this is way better than letting ye walk.”

 

“It's going to get really awkward in a minute when I have to pee…”

 

He chuckles, finally releasing your legs and letting them fall before gently placing you down on your feet.  You do go into your bathroom to grab some toilet paper to properly dry your eyes and your nose, trying yet desperately failing at making yourself look decent.

 

When you come out, you open up one of your drawers to your side table, pulling out a smaller package and shutting the drawer again.  The same package from weeks ago that you had set aside, not exactly sure how to broach the subject.  

 

He sits down on your cot and snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back closer to him.  “Whatcha get yerself now, hmn?”

 

“It's not just for me… it's kinda for the both of us…”  you open the envelope more to reach inside, but look down at him without pulling it out.  “Look, if you think it's dumb and stupid please just tell me and I promise it won't hurt my feelings or anything, I just bought it because I liked the way it looked and I thought you might too, but you don't have to wear it at all, mainly cause I'm not sure if you can or anything, but I plan on wea-”

 

His hand goes up to your mouth and covers it so you just stop babbling.  You groan a little at him, staring down into those incredibly bright blue eyes and waiting for him to move his hand.

 

“Just show me what ye got, lass.  I'm sure it's fine.”

 

Your stomach rolls, not knowing what his reaction will be making you anxious.  You take in a breath and let it out slowly, finally pulling out a tiny little ring box from the envelope, holding it out for him.

 

His eyebrows furrow, taking the box from you and flipping it over in his hand while pulling you over to him with the other and making you sit on one of his thighs.  “And wha’ migh’ be in here, bonnie?”

 

He's gonna hate the whole thing.

 

“We'll…  since… ya know… we're supposed to…  well, since Makarov thought we were married.  And also since we are keeping it up for my safety around here, more or less.  And I ordered these a while ago on a whim… I promise, you won't have to wear anything if you don't want.”

 

He turns you, and while you are still sitting on his leg, he can see your face better.  Which you wish he couldn't since it's bright red from embarrassment instead of crying.  He then places the box gently into your hands again.

 

“Show me, m'girl.”

 

You flip the box over slowly, hands shaking ever so slightly as you start opening it.

 

Inside are two very plain, ordinary rings.  Copper in color.  One larger ring, and a smaller, thinner one.

 

“They're made of silicone.  Since, you know, with your job, and being around a lot of guns and moving parts, and sparring and training and all that, I figured this was a safer route to go.  If you were to catch your hand on something the ring will just break off instead of causing a major injury to your hand.”

 

As you talk you take the larger ring out, twiddling it with your fingers to show him what you mean.  Lightweight, flexible.  And won't deglove your finger should it get caught on something and try to rip itself off.  Finally, you hold up his left hand, carefully sliding it onto his ring finger, then holding it up and letting him have a better look at it.  

 

He wiggled his fingers, testing it out a little.  It fits perfectly, so it won't wiggle its way off of his finger with a lot of movement.  “‘ts actually really thoughtful of ye, hen.”

 

You nod and smile at him, waving your hands dismissively.  “Like I said you don't have to wear it or anything, it wasn't stupidly expensive or whatever, and I bought myself one too mainly because I just figure if we're supposed to be married, it'd make sense for me to have some sort of ring in place.  And spending money on shiny expensive gems is silly, this is definitely much more my speed.”

 

You start to pull the other ring from the box before he grabs your hands and stops you.  “Wait.”

 

You look back at him and frown.  “Sorry, is it too much?  Please tell me if it is, I'm really not trying to make any of this weird or anything.” 

 

“‘ts no’ tha’ bonnie.”  He takes the box carefully from your hands, taking the smaller ring out himself, looking it over and inspecting it.  He then takes your left hand into his own, lifting it up and kissing the back of your ring finger.

 

“I figure if ye're gonna put a ring on my finger…”  Gently he takes the ring, sliding it onto the ring finger of your left hand.  “...then I should be able to put a ring on my wife.”

 

Tears start welling in your eyes again, and you reach up and swipe at them with your sleeve to make them go away.  

 

“Oi hen, I didn’ mean to make ye start cryin’ again.”

 

“No, I know you didn't, it was just… a very sweet gesture.  Thank you.”  You lean in, kissing his lips so very softly and smiling at him, looking into those enchanting eyes of his.  He's looking back into your own, his face softening as he leans in and kisses you again, slightly more eager than before.  You wrap your arms around his neck, sighing against him before slowly pulling away.  You can feel the heat of your reddening skin all the way down your neck and over your chest.

 

“So I… I take it you like the ring?”

 

He starts grinning up at you.  “It's perfect.  Couldn't ask for anything better.”

 

“Good! Good… like I said, no hard feelings if you don't wear it at all.”

 

“Oh somethin'll be hard about it, hen.”

 

“...why, why do you insist on being a perv and ruining the moment?”  You stand up off of him but he's pulling you down against him again, showering your cheeks and chin with kisses before planting one ever so softly against your lips.

 

“Wha’ can I say?  Ye drive me wild, hen.”

 

“Mmhmm… sure, we'll stick to that.”  You muss up his mohawk while sliding out of his lap again, grabbing his hand and tugging to get him to stand.

 

“Okay, pity party for one is done with, shall we go find something to eat before you start becoming a bear?”

 

He stands, towering over you and holding up your left hand with his, your hand easily being almost half the size of his own.  Massive.  Rough.  Calloused.  Scarred.  You know what these hands are capable of.  You know what these hands of his have done.  The blood they have spilled.  The lives they have taken.

 

And yet… to you, they are the absolute safest hands in the world.

 

Chapter 22: Safehouse

“Are we theeere yet?”  You ask, with a grin on your face.  You were stuck in the back seat of the jeep, sitting between Soap and Gaz.  Price was driving, ever the dad playing his part.   Ghost was riding shotgun.

 

Officers in the front, grunts in the back.

 

“Oh don't give me that, love.”  Price has adjusted the rear view mirror to look right at you.  You stick your tongue out at him and watch his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

 

“Someone has to give you shit Price, and since I have a penchant for getting away with things…  how much loooonger, dad? ”

 

Simon turns in his seat to look at you.  “Don't make us turn this car around, dove.”  He's definitely grinning under that mask of his.

 

“What, you want me to call you daddy, too?  Should I just start calling you all ‘daddy’ from here on out and really mess with your recruits?”

 

“Please don't, little miss.  They already side eye us enough when we get anywhere near you.”  Gaz pokes you in the side and gets a laugh from you. 

 

“Got it, no calling Gazatron ‘dad’ anytime soon.”

 

“What kind of nickname is that anyway, hen?”

 

“Gazatron?  Oh, when I was little, there was this ride called the Gravitron at the county fair every year.  It was this huge spaceship looking thing where you went inside and stood next to the wall.  When it started, the thing would spin so fast you'd get sucked against the wall and could hardly move.  Anyway, it's just a play or words.  Gravitron, Gazatron.  For the super nerdy, it also sorta comes from Galvatron.  Megatron's rebirth in Transformers after he was defeated by the autobots.”

 

“The things you come up with, love.”  Price is eyeing you again.

 

“Welcome to my brain where a lot of shit is made up and none of it matters!  Not that I expect you to understand anyways, dad. ”  Price and Ghost shake their heads at you at the same time.  “Oh noooooo, I've offended the dads…” you tease.  You tilt your head and look at Soap to see that he is just staring at you.  You have no idea for how long.  But when he finally awakens from whatever trance he was in, you wink up at him.

 

“No but seriously, any hints on how much longer?  I drank a lot of pop earlier, and I'm gonna have to pee soon.”

 

“Why do you call it ‘pop’ again, little miss?”

 

“Cause if you forget a can of it in the car during winter, that baby just pops all over the inside and can make a very sticky mess.  Soap, I can hear the gears grinding in that head of yours, don't even go there.”

 

You turn to look up at him again and of course he's grinning.  Because as soon as you said it, you knew how it sounded, and you knew exactly how it would be taken.  “For real though, it's a Midwestern thing I guess.  We call it pop cause of the sound it makes when you crack open a can.  ‘Pop’.”

 

“You Americans.”

 

“Uh, pretty sure you Brits came to the US, so we basically learned it from you?  Except for Midwestern Salads, not sure where we got those from.”

 

“The hell is a ‘Midwestern Salad’, dove?”

 

“It's usually something sweet that involves jello, Cool Whip, and sometimes cream cheese.  Toss a bunch of stuff together, and you get a salad.  Like that oreo pudding dessert I make.  We call that a ‘salad’.”

 

Gaz shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around the absurdity of it all.  You look up at Soap, and once again he's staring at you.

 

“You alright over there?”

 

“Dunno wha’ ye mean, lass.”

 

“DuNNo What Ye mEAN LaSS.”  Mocking him may not be the best of ideas, but you love getting a rise out of him sometimes.

 

“Oi, ye're gonna get it!.”

 

“Daaaaaads, Soap won't stop pinching meeeee!”

 

Sure your jokes are lame, but if it gets their heads off of all the shit they have to deal with on a regular basis, then acting like the immature little sister is the best way you can go about it.

 

“So is anyone going to tell me where we're going exactly, orrr…”

 

“Classified.”  Price and Ghost say together.

 

“Uuuuuugh, how did I end up with the lamest dads?”  You giggle while pulling your phone from your bra, starting to browse through various apps out of boredom.  Looking out the windows was nearly impossible since you were being dwarfed between two very large brutes.  Always in the middle, flanked by very large men who could snap you in half like a twig before anyone could say ‘boo’.  

 

At least they were all attractive.  Well, 3 of 4 anyway.  You assume Simon is, but unless he proves it…

 

Soap leans over your shoulder and tries to have a peek at your phone, which you pull closer to your chest and look up at him.  “Can I help you, sir?”

 

“Tryin’ to see what ye are plannin’ on gettin’ me for Christmas.”

 

“Tell me where we are going and I'll show you?”

 

“Ye know I can’ do that, hen.”

 

“Then your Christmas present shall remain a mystery, Bubbles.”  You smile up at him sweetly.  “Not that I could try to do any sort of shopping right now, anyway.  Trying to get a signal out here is just bonkers… though I'm wondering if that's just a perk of driving out into the middle of nowhere.  Hey, you'd tell me before I became annoying as shit instead of just taking me out to hide my corpse somewhere, right?”

 

“We're not gonna kill ye, hen.”

 

“That's exactly what someone would say if they were planning on killing someone, Johnny!”

 

He laughs while he leans over and kisses your forehead.  “Kept ye alive for this long, why ruin something good.”

 

You tilt and look over at Gaz.  He raises his hands up in surrender.  

 

“Thanks for being useless, Kyle.”  You finally look over at Ghost.

 

“If the plan was to kill you, I wouldn't have put so much effort into keeping you alive in the first place, dove.”

 

“So just in general I'm ok to be around, but at the first sign of a zombie apocalypse I should just go fuck myself?”

 

“Learning well, dove.  Might make you into a proper soldier some day.”

 

“Unless you just find joy in watching me completely fuck things up, let's not.”

 

“Still don't get how your shooting somehow improves when your target is moving, little miss.”

 

“Fuck if I know.  Can't hit the broad side of a barn, but watch out if you start moving cause kablammo.  Here's another thing to wrap your head around.  I've killed two deer in my lifetime.  Never fired a shot.”

 

“You'll have to explain that one, love.”

 

“In my defense, they were the ones that got in the way of the direction that I just happened to be traveling in.”

 

“Remind me to never use you as a good luck charm, dove.”

 

“As long as you don't go hacking off any of my body parts and try to pass them off as a lucky rabbit's foot I'd say you are pretty solid, Simon.”

 

“Oi, no one's hackin’ anythin’ off ye, hen.”

 

“Which is honestly for the best, I'll end up accidentally haunting someone's ass instead.”

 

You feel the jeep stopping, trying to look out through a window to see where you are and failing.  You sit back with a sigh, waiting to he let out.  Price and Ghost exit first, and you look up at Gaz expectantly.  When he doesn't move, you poke him.

 

He half smiles down at you.  “Have to sweep the area, little miss.  Make sure no one has been in the place, or hidden anything inside.”

 

“Alright alright, I got it.”  You look over at Soap.

 

Gonna have to have a talk about the staring, dearheart.

 

You tilt your head, silently asking him the same question he's asked you almost every day lately.

 

You alright?

 

He nods at you and grabs your hand, squeezing it gently while pulling it up and holding it to his cheek.  You smile at him just as Gaz opens the door and steps out and slams the door shut.  You watch as he walks away from the vehicle before turning your head back to Soap.  “So now will you tell me what's going on and where we are?”

 

“Safehouse.  We have some recon to take care of.  Ye get to come along since we're local and to keep an eye on ye.”

 

“How long will we be staying?”

 

“Dunno yet, hen.”

 

“Are we going to be back at base anytime soon?”

 

“Prolly not, why?”

 

“Would be nice to have a change of clothes.”

 

“Already been taken care of, lass.”  He turns and reaches behind the seat, pulling up a large purple duffel bag and setting it on top of the rest of the gear in the back.  “Packed ye some things.”

 

“Oh lordy, I can only imagine what you out in there.”

 

“Don’ worry, left ye're sexy panties back in my room.  Don’ need ye prancin’ around in them around the others.”

 

“First of all, I do not ‘prance’.  And second, my granny panties aren't even that sexy.  Sounds a little like jealously there, Mr. MacTavish.”

 

“Nothin’ to be jealous about, Mrs. MacTavish.”  He grins as Price taps on the window before opening Johnny's door.  He hops out before offering a hand to you.  You take it and climb out of the jeep, hopping down off the running board to plant yourself on the ground.  Ghost is at the back of the jeep with Gaz, loading themselves up with their gear.  You sneak in between them, grabbing your bag and loading yourself down with whatever else you can grab before following them into the safehouse and depositing things in the middle of what seems to be the living room.

 

“You are supposed to be our charge, not our pack mule, love.”  Price drops more gear next to you before standing and crossing his arms and looking down at you.

 

“Just trying to make myself somewhat useful, daddy-o.”  You start to head back to the door to grab more stuff but Ghost blocks the doorway.  “You should stay inside dove.”

 

You eye him suspiciously.  “Is this more than just recon, Ghost?”

 

He sidesteps you and places his things with the rest of the gear before he starts opening bags and cases, revealing cameras and laptops.  You go up beside him and look at everything he is starting to set up.  “Ghost.”

 

“There's been reports of Ultranationalists in the area.  Gonna see if we can get any solid intelligence on the matter.”  He starts tapping away at a laptop, both of you glancing up at Gaz and Johnny coming inside with the last of their gear, taking it into the kitchen and heading down the steps, which you assume lead down into the basement or a cellar.

 

“Don't suppose one of these Ultranationalists happens to be Makarov.”  You look back at Ghost.  He keeps tap tap tapping away.  Him not answering you is about all the confirmation that you need that you are right.  It also means he's not going to tell you much of anything else.  

 

You let out a sigh of frustration, walking away from him and heading to the front door that is still propped open.  ‘Need you to stay inside, dove.”

 

“And I need some fucking honesty if you want to use me as bait, Simon.”  You step outside and walk towards the jeep, stopping in front of it for a moment before walking around it and starting a path through the yard.  Simon is yelling after you, but you are too angry to pay much attention to him right this moment.  Blood rushing to your head, making your eardrums start to make a random whooshing sound.  

 

You head towards the trees that surround the back portion of the property, figuring you would at least get that far before you thought about turning around and giving them all a piece of your mind.  

 

You get it.  They are trying to get Makarov before he fucks up the world even more than it already is.  And you know he's after you.  But you deserve to know what the plan is when you are going to be used .  You have been with them all these years, and if they still don't trust you then why the fuck are you still around?  The only purpose for it right now is because of Makarov.  But the moment this is done with and they get him, then you will start looking for a place and get the hell out of here.

 

Life isn't fair.  Nothing is fair.  But this feels a little like betrayal that they are all keeping things from you.  It's bullshit.

 

You make the unfortunate decision to punch one of the nearby trees, letting out a scream mixed with frustration and pain. Tears stinging your eyes, shaking your hand to try to shake the pain away.

 

Stupid.  You are so fucking stupid sometimes.  

 

No.  Not sometimes.  All the fucking time.

 

And since you are pretty stupid right now, another punch to the tree to try to make yourself feel better.  Not physically, of course.  Maybe emotionally.  

 

You go to punch it again, but before you can even connect with the tree again you are grabbed around your waist and being pulled away from it.  You try to scream, but a hand shoots up and covers your mouth to muffle every sound you can possibly make.

 

“Easy!  Easy, lass.  Take it easy for me, aye?  That's it.  That's m'girl.”

 

Johnny.

Notes:

*Possible Trigger Warning*

 

The last couple of weeks have been hell around here.

This last week alone has been even worse, and it's barely started. The rest of this week is going to be... Interesting? We'll call it interesting.

Kiddo broke their wrist last week, and found out they need surgery. That'll be done this week.

Also had to have the cat put down. Insult to injury. Absolutely tragic.

This may either be put on a small hiatus until my life gets back to some sense or normalcy, or you will get a chapter dump in a fit of stress writing.

I have no idea what will happen.

But I figure I sorta owe some sort of explanation just in case any more wrenches are thrown at my head and updates go silent for a while.

Take care of yourselves! ❤️

Chapter 23: Honesty

“Let me go, Johnny!”

 

“Oi!  Not’ til ye tell me what's wrong!”

 

“Let!  Me!  GO!”

 

He's wrapped both arms around you now, the one still around your waist, the other crossed over you from stomach to shoulder, almost like a human seat belt.  You try prying his hands away from you, only for him to tighten his grip, pressing his head against yours to prevent you from trying to get enough leverage to headbutt him.

 

“Ye're not gettin’ away from me that easy, princess.”  While still holding onto you, he starts leading you back towards the house.

 

“Why?  Afraid something might happen to the precious bait?”  You try stiffening your whole body to make it that much harder for him to move you.  But it's Johnny.  He lifts you like you don't weigh a damn thing and keeps on towards the house.

 

“What’re ye talkin’ ‘bout, hen?”

 

“Simon told me about Makarov!”  You aren't sure if it's from the surprise of hearing what you said or if you genuinely were able to thrash enough to get out of his grasp, but you manage to slip down and out of his arms and start to get away from him.

 

If only you had been faster about it.

 

Before you can run far enough away from him, he's grabbed onto you again.  You trip and fall to the ground, Soap landing right on top of you and knocking the wind out of you.  He's talking to you, but you can't quite understand him, trying to catch your breath and coughing while he pushes you onto your back, using one hand to grab both of yours and pinning them above your head, not letting you go yet.

 

“Easy!  Easy, m’girl!  Shhhhh… relax….”

 

Refusing the look at him you keep your head turned and pressed into your arm, panting a little while trying to breathe normally again.  “So I'm right?  You are just going to use me to lure him out?”

 

He huffs out a breath, still holding you down, leaning in and resting his forehead to the side of your head.  “‘ts complicated, hen.”

 

“Then fucking uncomplicate it!”  You struggle to get away until he is straddling your thighs and sitting on them, holding you underneath him tighter.  You turn your head to look up at him, waiting for an explanation that, for whatever reason, he refuses to give you.  “Goddamnit, Johnny!!”  

 

“Alrigh’, fine!  House is a rental, using it to make it look like ye're getting back on ye're feet after the attack, actin like ye're not bein’ followed no more.”

 

“So why the fuck wasn't I told any of it?”

 

“Didn't know if ye could handle it.”

 

You throw your head back and laugh.  “I took a fucking bullet from the son of a bitch, and you don't think I can ‘handle it’?”

 

“The way ye're actin right now doesn’ help much with that, aye?  Been wantin’ to tell ye since the plan was made, hen!  Couldn’ go against a direct order, ‘nd I'm sorry.  So just stop ye're fussin’, and let's get back inside so we can talk abou’ it!”

 

You growl out of frustration, settling down underneath him.  Eyes closed at first because you were too pissed to look at him.  When you finally did open your eyes, he did look a little sorry about it.

 

“Orders from who?”

 

“General Shepherd though’ it was be-”

 

“Oh FUCK the General, if he had it his way I'd actually be dead and Makarov would have been captured already.”

 

“Hen, just lis-”

 

“And your General is the reason you took a fucking bullet to the head, so he is generally a piece of shit in my book.”

 

“Oi he is, trust me on that.”

 

“And while we're at it, fuck you ya Scottish asshole!”

 

“Oi!  Why ye fuckin’ me?”

 

“Fuck you, fuck John, fuck Kyle, and fuck Simon cause not one of you had the balls to tell me what the hell is going on!”

 

“Lass, we couldn't -”

 

“ YES you could !”  You heave yourself up under him, using every bit of strength and putting all your anger into it as you have to flip him off of you, rolling on top of him and sitting on his hips, using what's left of you to hold his arms down, panting while staring down at him underneath you.  “ You , out of the four of you, should have been the one to tell me.  The first to tell me, the minute the plan was made!  Doesn't matter if you think I can handle it or not, that's for me to figure out, not for you to decide for me!  And I swear to God Johnny, if you tell me you voted on it, I'll burn the fucking house down myself this time!”

 

He's laying under you, smiling up at you at first, before he plasters that fucking grin on his face, which just pissed you off even more.  “ Why are you smiling at me?”

 

“Ye learned somethin’ during our little spars, aye?”

 

“Do not change the subject, Johnathon MacTavish!”

 

“Ye know ye're kinda cute when ye’re mad, ye get this li'l nose flare goin’ and ye-”  He catches your fist when you go to punch him, pulling you down onto his chest and hugging you.

 

“Ye're right.  I shoulda said somethin’ right away.  I shouldn'a tried to keep anythin’ from ye, and ‘m sorry.  Alrigh’?  ‘m sorry that ye had to hear it from Ghost.”

 

You push yourself up off of him, sighing heavily and staring down at him.  Still pissed, but not nearly as much as you were before.  “From now on, you all owe it to me to give me an explanation on shit that involves me.  If you don't trust me then you need to tell me right now.  So that I can make the decision on what to do with myself from here on out.”

 

“We do trust ye, princess.  We're just tryin’ to protect ye.”

 

“Keeping me in the dark with shit isn't protecting me.  Maybe my body, but sure as hell doesn't do great for my head.”

 

“I got a few other ideas on what I can do with ye're body.”

 

“Oh fuck off , MacTavish.” You crawl off of him and stand up, offering a hand down to him to pull him off the ground.  He takes your hand and sits up, only to pull your arm hard and using a foot to trip you, making you fall onto his ass while he laughs at you.

 

“What'd I tell ye, hen?  Don' let ye're guard down!”  He reaches a hand down to help you up, which you ignore and heave yourself up off the ground and dust yourself off.  You are covered in dirt, and just brush off what you can, Soap grinning stupidly at you while watching you.  

 

“I'll get ye trained up soon enough hen, and then ye'll even be able to take down Ghost.”  He takes your hand to lead you back, but you rip your hand out of his and cross your arms over yourself to deny him access.  You are still mad at him for the time being.

 

“This is the part where we kiss and make out, hen.”

 

“Kiss and make up , Johnny.  And you are the last person that deserves that right now, ya bawbag.”

 

“Alrigh’ fine, I can handle a hate fucking in the mean time.”

 

“I don't see Simon fucking you any other way, dude.”

 

“Oi!  Not him I was talkin’ about!”

 

“Then maybe don't piss off Price and he'll be gentle with you next time.”

 

“Christ lass, I'm talkin’ about -”

 

“Yes Johnny, I know who you are talking about, I'm stupid but not that fucking stupid.”

 

You gasp when he grabs you around your waist and pulls you back against his chest, catching you to make sure you don't fall to the ground, but also holding you just enough so you can't pull away from him yet.  “Ye're impossible sometimes, ye know that?”

 

“And you still seemingly tolerate me, but then you pull shit like this and I start to wonder.” 

 

“I'll apologize til the end times if tha's what it takes to get ye to forgive me, princess.”

 

“Might need some groveling.  Foot rub might help.”

 

He chuckles and tilts your head back, making you look up at him.  “Would ye actually let me?”

 

“Probably not.  If this place has an actual bathtub, you might win some of my favor back with a bubble bath.”

 

He grins down at you, almost giggling.  “Oi I can give ye a bath with Bubbles alrigh’.”

 

You frown slightly until it clicks in your head about what he was actually insinuating, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at him.  “Why, why do you always ruin it.”

 

“Nothin’ ruinin’ if ye just let it happen some day, hen.”  He leans in and gives you a soft little kiss before he starts moving to the house again, arm still around your waist.

 

“Let's not and say we didn't, MacTavish.”  You finish making your way back to the house, Gaz being outside and the first to come up to you. Johnny lets you go, only for Kyle to snatched you up into a hug.  “Sorry little miss, I assumed you were let in on the plan, didn't mean to keep you in the dark.”

 

“It's fine, I'm fine, I'll get over it.”  You pull away from the hug and head inside.  Ghost and Price are both hunkered over to laptop until they see you.  Price stands up fully  coming towards you.  “Love, I-”

 

“Don't.  Just don't.  Please.  I don't want any more apologies from you guys.  Just… honesty.  It goes pretty damn far if you are just honest with me from here on out.  And trust.  If you don't trust me, that goes with the honesty.  Because if you don't trust me then I have to know that, too.  It's fine if you don't.  I just need to know that now.”

 

Price wraps his hand around the back of your neck and pulls you into a hug, arms wrapped around you and patting between your shoulders.  “We do trust you, love.  Was thinking strategically and not humanely.  You deserve more humanity than that.”

 

“Glad you see things my way.”  You pull away from Price, with him patting you on the shoulder.  You turn your gaze to Ghost, who has had his eyes on you since you stepped back through the door.  He gives you a slight nod, and you give him the same in response.

 

It's the only apology you are going to get from Simon.  And you appreciate the fuck out of it.  No words.  No touching.  Just a curt little nod.

Notes:

Surgery went great! They went in and repaired the bone with a screw, so fingers and toes crossed everything goes well and they heal well.

Kiddo has been telling their friends "first time I ever got screwed was by a surgeon." Yay for that I guess?

...lord, beer me strength 🤪

Chapter 24: Aftercare

Sorry.

 

Fuck, ‘m sorry hen.

 

I shouldn’ of kept it from ye.

 

Shoulda been honest from the beginning.

 

Really thought I was doin’ right by ye.

 

I was gonna tell ye.  I swear I was.

 

Just put it off for longer than I shoulda.

 

And ‘m really sorry for tha’.

 

Ye’re mad at me.

 

And I'm just fuckin’ terrified for ye.

 

Been against this plan from the get go, but only agreed to let it happen if I was with ye.

 

A hard fight for a dead man to make.

 

Price made sure it happened, though.

 

Couldn’ be without ye.

 

Had to make sure I kept ye safe.

 

Then ye ran off cause you were pissed off.  At me.  Because of me. 

 

Had to go after ye myself.

 

Ye'll cool down soon enough.

 

Maybe then ye'll see.

 

Ye say ye aren't stupid.  But ye have to be to see anything in me.

 

—-------

You really don't know how much you miss something until it's gone.

 

You didn't even realize it until now, since being on base has become its own thing.  Its own sort of routine.  With far too many people for your liking being the introvert that you are.  But you've learned to tolerate and adapt to it.  The staring somehow doubled there for a while once you and Johnny walked around sporting matching rings.  But as quickly as it started, it also died off.  Like they made the situation more pronounced that you were indeed “Mrs. MacTavish”, and between Johnny and the 141 being your protectors, you were not to be fucked with.  There are some stragglers who do look, but not nearly as many as before.  

 

From what you can gather from it, you figure they are trying to decide how a woman like you landed the great Soap.  Trying to figure out what exactly Soap sees in you that made him want to “marry” you.  Sizing you up to decide how much of a threat you might be by yourself if you didn't have the 141 following your every move.  Someone had asked you if you were being protected by the 141, or were they being protected by you.  Your only answer was a little smile and a wink.  Ghost had been with you for that, and he had only gave you an approving nod at the time.  The less you say, the better off things are for you.

 

But this… this is heaven .

 

Currently, you are basking in a bathtub, eyes shut and steam billowing around you, a faint hint of citrus in the air from a bath bomb Soap had procured for you from somewhere.  Flowery scents weren't for you, they were usually too heavily scented and made you sneeze.  Light and citrus just soothed a part of your brain that needed it the most.  The fact he remembered that for you just about made your heart melt… maybe if you weren't still a little mad at him for keeping secrets, anyway.

 

Your sleeping quarters were in the basement.  Which isn't exactly the heavenly part, but the room you are in doesn't have any windows that can be breached, and if someone does decide to try to show up, they are most likely going to head up and towards the master bedroom.  Instead of finding you, they will find the 141.

 

Despite how small and cramped the tub is, if you had one of those little bath pillows you would probably fall asleep right now.  Though you might fall asleep anyway, as the warm water and bath bomb soothe your aching everything.  With the murmurs of the boys upstairs, random guffaws from someone every now and then, everything is just the way it should be.

 

It almost feels like home .  

 

Though it's not home.

 

It's all an elaborate ruse.

 

In hopes to try to lure out the most dangerous man on the planet.

 

One that thinks you are married to Soap.

 

One that thinks he killed your husband.  But that was only a ruse in itself.  And because of that one off tiny little signature, the man wants you.  For information?  Just to kill you?  Who knows anymore.

 

You are at the mercy of the 141 to get the man before he gets to you.

 

So much for relaxing.  Thanks for that, brain.

 

You open your eyes with a sigh, pulling your hand out of the water and inspecting it.  The skin is marred from you punching the tree.  Cleaned of debris, but now slightly leaking plasma and blood as you leave it out of the water.  There's also some brushing that has started to surface, but for now not much pain.

 

Smooth move there, stupid

 

You dip your hand back below the water while snaking your foot up to the faucet and using it to turn on the hot water, warming up the water just a little before you lay back and try to relax again, eyes closing with yet another sigh.  At least you had washed off all of the dirt and the grime from rolling around outside on the ground with Johnny before you filled the tub so you weren't marinating in it.

 

A short while later, the water is cold again.  You contemplate warming it up again but decide against it.  You're not sure how long you've been in there, but with as wrinkled as your skin is, you should probably get out.  

 

With a heave ho, you stand up out of the water, knees and elbows popping as you straighten out in spite of the relaxing bath.  Pulling the plug you step out onto the rug, drying off as much as possible before wrapping yourself tightly into the towel.  Wiping your feet you go over towards the vanity that's off in the corner, tugging open the duffel bag of clothes Soap brought you.  At least the man made somewhat decent selections.

 

You find a pair of underwear in the depths of the bag, along with a pair of socks.  He at least packed you a decent pair of leggings.  Though as you dig you begin to notice the lack of a bra.  At some point, you'll make one of them take you to base to get a few more things, but for now you will make due.  The one you had on earlier was currently hanging up to dry from washing it in the sink, so you would just have to put it on later.

 

Just as you were pulling on underwear there's a knock at the door.

 

“Give me a few.”

 

“Oi, it's me, open up.”

 

“And I said to ‘give me a few’, ya goober.” 

 

He responds like an impatient child, banging his fist into the door now.

 

You growl to yourself, pulling your leggings up quickly and wrapping your top half back up in your towel before unlocking the door and opening it a little, your body standing right in the door crack and staring up at him.  “If you need to go that bad , there is a whole ass bathroom upstairs.”

 

He holds up a box in one hand, half smiling at you.  “Came to check on ye're hand, princess.”

 

You roll your eyes hard.  “Hand's fine, thanks.”. You try to shut the door, except a massive Soap sized boot was shoved in the crack before you could.  With a sigh you open the door slightly wider and look up at him.  “Soap.  It's fine.”

 

“I'll be the judge of tha’, swee'hear’.”  He shoves himself inside and makes you take a step back to give him room to get through.

 

Sweetheart?

 

“Can I at least put a shirt on first?”  You watch him shut the door behind him, so gripping your towel closer to you, you put out your bad hand for him to look at it and get it over with quickly.  He bypasses you and walks over towards the vanity, setting the box on the table and putting his hands on his hips while he waits for you to go over to him.  

 

“And you call me impossible.” You walk towards him as he slides the vanity chair out for you.  You sit down and quickly hold your hand out to him, showing him that everything was fine now that you weren't soaking it in the tub.  “See?  I cleaned it well enough and everything.”

 

He kneels in front of you, taking your hand gently and tilting it from side to side, inspecting it carefully.  “So ye did.  Can’ be too careful.  How ‘bout that shiner?”

 

You frown and take your hand back before looking over at the mirror, leaning in closer and just now noticing the slight purple aura forming next to your eye, with the upper lid a little red and swollen.  “Huh… didn't even notice it til you said something.”  You turn back to him, eyeing his face up and down at his displeased demeanor.  “What?  It's my fault, I probably smacked myself in the face when I went to get you off me.”

 

“Never even gave ye a black eye during a spar, doing it now jus’ makes me feel worse.”

 

“Don't.  Just don't, alright?  I'm a big girl, I can handle myself just fine.”

 

He grunts, holding his hand out and wiggling his fingers while looking at you.  You give him back your hand for him to look at again.  He takes it and digs in the first aid kit, taking out a sterile gauze pad and ripping it open with his teeth before taking it out, gently dabbing at the marks on the back of your hand.

 

“Should wrap this.  Don’ wanna let it get infected.”

 

“I'll slap some bandaids on it.”

 

“Ye know ye're lucky ye didn't break anythin’?”

 

“I don't need a lecture from you, Bubbles.”

 

“Maybe ye do, since ye were also bein’ wreckless goin’ ou'side without one of us with ye.”

 

“Johnny, I-”

 

“And ye really shouldn’ be lockin’ doors just in case, there's not exactly a fire exit down here.”

 

“...Cool.  Thanks.  I can take care of the rest myself.”  You pull your hand back, but he grabs you by the wrist.  As he grits his teeth, you can almost hear the gears inside that big head of his grinding and trying to operate properly.  And while he doesn't let you go, he does loosen his grip on you slightly, sitting up on his knees more and digging into the first aid kit again until he pulls out a tube of antibiotic ointment, screwing the cap off one handed and adding a small glob to your fingers, setting the tube aside to gently rub the ointment in.  Still refusing to let go of your hand. For the moment, not even looking up at you.

 

Leaning back into the chair, you watch as he works on your hand, being the most gentle you have probably ever seen him be.  It was odd, having Soap be the one to tend to you like this.  Though you didn't exactly make it a habit of punching random things in a fit of rage, and usually you are the one taking care of the boo-boo of the 141.  If you can consider gunshots and stab wounds boo-boos.

 

After he's satisfied he's covered everything proper with ointment, he grabs more gauze and a wrap, the ointment helping hold the gauze in place while he ever so delicately wraps it to make sure it stays put with just the right amount of pressure.  Tucking the end in to keep his work from unraveling.  

 

Finally his eyes flit back up to yours, very lightly running a soothing thumb over the back of your hand.  You look away just to admire his handiwork.  Admittedly it looks like it could all fall apart at any second.  But you surely won't tell him that right now.  

 

You look back into his eyes, the corner of your lip curling up slightly in a pathetic attempt of a smile at him.  “Thanks.”

 

“Still mad at me, hen?” 

 

You shrug, gently tugging and taking your hand back.  “I'll get over it.”

 

“Meant it when I said I'll apologize til the end times.”

 

“I know.  You don't have to.  Won't have to, I guess.  When this is all over, and when you get Makarov, and when you don't have to be a dead man anymore, you won't have to deal with me anymore.”

 

“What're ye talkin’ abou’, lass?” 

 

“When it's all said and done with, I'll be finding my own place.”

 

He smiles at you, moving his hand to your arm and rubbing it gently.  “We'll find a place again.  Maybe not as great as our old house, but we'll find somethin’.  And ye'll have the run of the place and not have to worry ‘bout anythin’.”

 

“No I mean… I’ll be getting my own place.   Without you guys.  Just… Myself.”

 

His smile slowly fades when it starts to register exactly what you are telling him.  “No.  No, ye aren’ gonna be doin’ that.  ‘m not gonna let ye do that to me, hen.”

 

“Sweetie, I'm doing it for us .  It'll be for the best, I promise.  We're still going to hang out and be friends if you want?” 

 

“No hen, ye're not gonna be leavin’ me, ‘m not gonna let ye!”  He grabs onto your arm more, shaking his head.  Completely in denial.

 

“I'm not leaving forever, babes.  I promise, I'm not.  I just think you all could use a break from me, especially after all this.”

 

“Ye're wrong, hen.”

 

“How am I wrong?”

 

“Cause I can’ let ye just run away from me.”

 

“Not running away, giving you some distance you need.”

 

“Can't have any distance from you.”

 

“Why not?” 

 

“‘Cause I love ye!"

Notes:

Ope.

Well then...

Chapter 25: Denial

“Tolerate.”

 

“...Wha’?”

 

“You tolerate me, Bubbles.”

 

He lets out a frustrated huff, running one hand through his mohawk like he usually does when he's stressed, gripping onto your arm a little more tightly with the other.  “I said wha’ I said, an’ I mean it.  I love ye, why don’ ye believe me?

 

“Hundred reasons, babes.  Mostly because…”

 

“Because wha’?”

 

Because Soap doesn't love.

 

He's a flirt, he's a smooth talker, he's a charmer.  A playboy.  He can charm the undies off of just about anyone.  Hell, you've seen with your own eyes as he charmed the undies off of a few people, and took them home as trophies.

 

Occasionally whenever ‘love’ comes out of his mouth it usually pertains to food.  Well, usually yours when you were all on top of each other back home, but still.  Or when you went out and he would go nose deep into a greasy bar burger, or deep fried mozzarella sticks that you would share with him. 

 

No.

 

Soap doesn't love.  Lusts.  Definitely that.

 

“Because right now, I don't have a shirt on, and I'm getting cold.”  You scoot back your chair and stand up, gently prying yourself from his grip before turning and busying yourself by digging through your bag again.  “Hey, so I can't fine a bra in here, and I had to wash out the one I was wearing, could I borrow a hoodie for now?”

 

He stands up and moves up directly behind you, standing so close his chest presses against your shoulder blades.  His breath lightly caressing the back of your neck as he places one hand on the vanity table on either side of you, boxing you in.  You look up into the mirror, eyeing him as he hovers his face right next to yours, his eyes staring back at you.  “Do ye not love me, hen?”

 

You smile at him, one hand moving up to his cheek, lightly running your fingers over it and leaning your head against his.  “You know that I do, Bubbles.”

 

“ Do I?”

 

You press yourself back against him, just to get him to move enough so you can turn your whole self to face him, looking up at him.  “If you don't know that by now, then you might be a little dense.”

 

“No more than ye'reself.”

 

You feel almost offended by that.  “I tell you all the time that I love you.”

 

“So do I, but ye never believe me.”

 

“Because I know better than that.”

 

“Apparently ye don’.”

 

You tilt your head ever so slightly while looking him up and down, sighing a little before looking back into his eyes.  “I know that you are a man with a whole lotta needs, and you haven't been able to give into those needs with me being around.”

 

“The only need I got is standin’ in front of me, hen.”

 

Jesus …

 

“I gotta give it to you, Bubbles.  You have always been a smooth talker.”

 

“This isn’ smooth anythin’.”  He shifts himself closer, your hips pressing against the vanity table even more while he slides one hand from the table to your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze while he brings his face even closer to yours.  “But if ye don't believe me when I say it…”

 

Your body tenses against his, still looking up into those bright blue eyes of his.  “It's not entirely about me not believing you…”

 

“The wha’ is it’?”

 

“If you do, I don't deserve it.”

 

“And ye call me dense, princess…”

 

“More like Queen, Soap.  Queen of the Dense, Queen of Insecurities, Queen of Denial…”

 

“Make all the jokes ye want, I'll make ye feel like a queen if tha's what it takes.”

 

Stunned.

 

Stunned is a good way to describe your reaction.

 

Because you are almost waiting for him to say that he was kidding.  About everything.  That he is just trying to get a rise out of you for acting childish earlier.  

 

So the fact that he is pulling your face to his, lips gently crashing into yours in the most intimate kiss the two of you have ever shared…  

 

You can't think.

 

And maybe… maybe that's ok…

 

Because you find yourself kissing him back with the same amount of intensity.  The same sort of intimacy.  The same sort of…

 

Need .

 

You can't exactly deny it anymore.

 

Because you do love him.  You have loved him.  You've had feelings for him since forever, and you just never in a billion years thought he ever felt the same way about you.  You never indulged or dwelled on it.  

 

Because it's Johnny .

 

But after the first time you saw him in the hospital.

 

And after thinking he was dead.

 

You couldn't hardly breathe thinking you had lost him forever.

 

You.  Are in love .  With Johnny.

 

You slide your arm around him, wrapping over his shoulder while your fingers glide up over his neck and through his mohawk, pulling him in even closer.  Him taking you by the waist and lifting you up onto the vanity table while you push your bag onto the floor, bringing you up closer to him, swallowing the moan that escapes his lips.

 

The door shaking violently under someone's fist makes the both of you jump a little, with you clinging tighter to Soap for a moment.

 

“Johnny, dove, need you upstairs.” Ghost yells through the door.  You would ask how he knew, but decide against it.

 

“Be there in a few!”  You shout at the door before turning your gaze back towards Johnny.  Blushing slightly from the kiss.  He looks like he could kill Simon for interrupting.  You tilt and give him another soft kiss.  “I'll meet you upstairs?”

 

He gruffs a little, then steps back and takes off his hoodie, which you can't help yourself from admiring him bare chested as he hands it over to you, leaning back in for another kiss.  Which you happily return, reaching up and tugging him back in for another by grabbing his dog tags.  You'd swear he almost growled at you before he finally pulled away from you once more and headed outside of the bathroom to let you finish getting dressed.

 

Notes:

A small appetizer to get you by before some of you become even more feral!

 

Though let's be honest... We're all a little feral over these two.

As always, depending on how things go in my life, hopefully I can update by the weekend! ❤️

Chapter 26: Pep Talk

You bound up the stairs, adjusting Soap's hoodie as it engulfs most of you, flipping your hair out from the collar and laying it to let it dry more as you join the rest of them in the living room.  Soap had tossed on a shirt before he came upstairs ahead of you.  He glances over at you as he stands back and observes the laptop by Price, arms crossed over his chest.  

 

He's pissed.  More pissed than earlier.  Is this still about Simon?

 

“What’s going on?”  You ask, siding up to Soap and looking around at them.

 

Simon reaches over and hits a few buttons on the laptop.  The TV on the wall flashes on, and your blood runs cold from what you see on the screen.

 

Only, not what.  Who.

 

Makarov .

 

“You found him?”  Your stomach starts to churn as anxiety takes over.

 

“Aye.  And we think he's gettin’ closer to findin’ you , hen.”  Johnny reaches out and snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

 

Oh… guess that explains why he's pissed.

 

“That seems… extremely fast.”

 

“Bit too fast for our liking, love.  We had kept everything under wraps as we planned.  Only us, the General, and Laswell had the info until this morning.”  Price puffs on a cigar while showing off more pictures.

 

“Doesn't seem like it was just you six with the info… mole?”

 

Gaz shakes his head at you.  “I don't think so. Hacked somewhere, most like.”

 

“I'd keep an eye on that General of yours.  Don't trust the prick.”

 

“Girl after my own heart, Dove.”  Chuckles Ghost.  

 

You pull your hands into the sleeves of the hoodie before bringing them up and wiping the fabric over your face, as if you can wipe away the sudden wave of nausea.  “Fuck…  ok… so… what's the plan from here?”

 

“Takin’ ye back to base, hen.”  

 

You tilt and look up at Johnny.  “Sounds counterproductive, doesn't it?”

 

“No’ when it's to keep ye safe.”

 

“That's why I have all of you for.  So why not like…  parade me out in public?

 

Gaz turns to look at you.  “Parade you?”

 

You nod.  “You, Price, and Ghost take me into town.  We can grab some things from the store.  My guess is we'd pick up a tail.  Especially if he is already so close.  Maybe even Makarov himself.  Soap stays here, hides out in case someone shows up… unless, your General is the leak and already let them know Soap is alive.  Then the whole show would be pointless…  unless one of you stays back with Soap?  Worth a shot, anyway.”

 

Soap has been shaking his head almost from the moment you started talking.  “Too much of a risk, could be a righ’ fuckin’ ambush, and it's not worth danglin’ ye by ye’re feet.”

 

“Dove's trying to help, Johnny.”

 

“Sacrifice.  Right, Si?”

 

Ghost nods at you, leaning forward and tapping away at the laptop in front of him again.  Gaz comes over and stands on the other side of you, placing his elbow on your shoulder and using you as an arm rest.  You roll your eyes at him, reaching up and sticking your fingers into his armpit to tickle him, making him scrunch away from you and back off.  “So we go in a couple hours?”

 

“Ye're not goin’ anywhere, princess.  We're comin’ up with a different plan.  Price?”  Soap looks over at him expectantly.

 

Price says nothing as he takes another puff off his cigar, almost playing with it a little while he thinks.  “I'll talk to Laswell and Shepherd.  See what they come up with.”

 

“Just please be careful with Shepherd.”  Price walks out with a nod, pulling out his phone before stepping outside.  You look up at Soap as he's clinging to you.  He's glaring at Price now, looking like he's about ready to explode.  

 

You then look down at Ghost, using your foot to tap on his boot to get his attention.  When Ghost looks at you, you tilt your head in Soap's direction, bringing his attention to the situation.  Ghost stands, coming over and clapping a hand onto Soap's shoulder.  Soap looks to him, neither of them saying anything between hand and head gestures.  Soap eventually let's go of you, walking ahead of Simon as they walk out of the room.  If anyone has a chance of talking some sense into Johnny, it would be Simon.  Not just as his superior, but as his friend.

 

You decide to make your way into the kitchen, taking a look around for the first time.  It's on the smaller side, not a whole lot of counter space to work with, and a smaller stove off in the corner.  You then open the door to the fridge, finding it mostly full of things.  The freezer has a few items inside of it as well.  Everything looks fairly clean.  Though you find a rag and some cleaner and set to wipe down the countertops anyway.  

 

Unfortunately it doesn't take long before your mind drifts back to the last time you were back into your kitchen at ‘The House’.

 

Putting groceries away.

 

Price calling you.

 

The cold feeling of a gun on the back of your neck…

 

A voice that will forever haunt you… 

 

“Good evening, Mrs. MacTavish.”

 

You turn around quickly and look around at the very obviously empty kitchen, your heart seemingly pounding away at a million beats per minute.  You toss the rag next to the sink and turn on the cold water, rinsing your hands for a moment before splashing some cold water onto your face.

 

Get your shit together.  You are fine.  Everything is fine.  You are in a house full of people protecting you.  Makarov isn't here.  Focus.

 

You turn off the water, using the bottom part of the hoodie to dry your face for now, closing your eyes and trying to control your breathing to get your heart to stop trying to beat through your chest.  Bracing your hands on the edge of the counter.  

 

“Love?”

 

You open your eyes and turn around, seeing Price standing in the doorway.  While you wipe your face again using the back of your sleeve this time, he comes a little closer.  You can tell he is trying to be cautious with you.  “How you holdin’ up?”

 

“Oh, ya know.  Just fuckin’ peachy.  What did Laswell and dipshit have to say?”

 

He offers a slight smile while walking even closer.  “Laswell offers her apologies.  Offerin’ up mine too, love.”

 

“I feel a gigantic ‘but’ coming, and it's got nothing to do with mine.”

 

A chuckle from him.  “It has been decided that you should stay here a while so we can try to gain some intelligence on the Ultranationalists and potentially wager what Makarov is up to.”

 

“Kinda figured that was gonna happen.  You might wanna join Ghost's pep talk with Johnny.”  He nods and pats you on the shoulder, leaving you alone in the kitchen again.  You have this horrible feeling of dread wash over you, making you grab onto the counter again before you drop down to the floor.

 

Fuck fuck fuck… get it together.  Breathe.  You are just fine.  Everything will be fine.

 

Stupid.  

 

So stupid.  

Notes:

Another not so long chapter, but something to get you by!

 

In case I don't see ya before Monday, have a Merry Christmas if you celebrate, a Happy Holidays if ya don't, Festivus for the rest of us, and any other holiday that I've forgotten I hope has been treating you well!

Chapter 27: Uneasy

Notes:

🎄Merry Christmas Eve🎄

My sleep deprivation is your gain.

I need a nap or twelve...

“I don’ like it, lass.”

 

“Trust me, of all the things I'd rather be doing right now, this isn't on the list.”

 

“Am I on tha’ list?”

 

“No comment, Bubbles.”

 

“This was ye're idea, remember.”

 

“Yeah and whoever thought it was a good idea should be shot.”

 

“Wouldn' be the first time I almost shot Simon, bonnie.”

 

“Go for your General instead, we'll make it look like an accide- owww!  That was skin , Johnny!”

 

“Sorry, jus’ makin’ sure it's tight and covers everythin’.”

 

You are currently standing in front of him with your arms out while he fidgets and pulls the straps on the Kevlar he is making you wear.  Which honestly isn't a bad idea, really.  But if he pulls on the straps any tighter…

 

“So there's this awesome thing called breathing, and I would love to still be able to do that for the time being.”

 

“Oi ye smar'ass, tryin’ to keep you safe.”

 

“One of the perks of loving me babes, you get the smart ass parts of me too.”  You step back and look at yourself in the mirror.  “Guess I need to invest in a bulletproof corset if I'm gonna have to be strapped in this tight.”

 

“...They make those?”

 

“Not sure, actually.  And it was a joke, trying to shove all of me into a corset just sounds like bad news all around.”  You turn around and face Johnny now, smiling up at him.

 

“We'll now ye got me thinkin’ abou’ it.”  He grins that fucking grin at you, holding up his hoodie and helping you put it back on, adjusting it to make sure the bullet proof vest was covered up by it.  He looks you over and sighs before shifting his eyes back up to yours while placing his hands onto your hips.  “Should just make Ghost and Gaz go into town and do a sweep, see if they can get a tail without ye.”

 

“Maybe we can put Gaz in a dress, that'll definitely get him some tail.” 

 

“Ye're really gonna be jokin’ like this?”

 

“I either joke about it or I'll be stuck in this basement and refuse to leave it for the foreseeable future.  So jokes it is, Bubbles.  I'll make it up to you and make something for dinner tonight?”

 

“Holdin’ ye to it then, lass.”  He leans down and kisses you softly, giving your hips a squeeze before letting you go and leading you upstairs.  Ghost and Gaz are sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for you.  Your stomach starts to flip flop the minute you see them, since you know what going with them entails.  Johnny puts his arm around you, letting you lean on him.  

 

You look at him appreciatively and give a small smile before looking back to the others.  “Ready to go whenever you are?”

 

Ghost is the first to stand, adjusting his tack gear that he's wearing and giving you a nod.  “Gotta get you set up first, Dove.”  He heads off into the living room,to which you follow in behind him.  He opens a case and takes something out of it before coming up to you and holding out his hand.

 

“Ear piece.  Best to keep you wired.  You can listen in on communications with us, and respond if need be.”  You take it from him, shoving it inside of your ear and adjusting it the best that you can until it sits nicely.  You glance over at Johnny, who has gone a bit stone faced now.  Serious business at hand, he's in Soap Mode.

 

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze anyway.  “Easy, Bubbles.  We go in long enough to grab some attention, we get out.”

 

“Hen wants ye in a dress, Gaz.”

 

“Uh I left my dress back at base, little miss?”

 

“It's fine.  While we're out, Ghost will buy you a new one.  Something to show off them legs of yours.”

 

“Maybe bring out the color of his eyes, too.”  Price walks in from the other room, patting Gaz on the shoulder.  You try not to giggle too much, but are failing miserably.

 

“See?  Glad someone agrees with me.  Maybe we can find a nice little number for Ghost, too.”

 

“I'll look sexy in anything black, Dove.”  Ghost walks over to Johnny, leading him to the other room and speaking to him quietly.  

 

You try to wait patiently for a minute before barging in and announcing loudly while making your way to the front door.  “Can we please get out of here and get this over with already?”

 

Ghost grabs your arm and stops you, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you to face Soap.  “Tell Johnny what Makarov said, Dove.”

 

“Uhh… Ya know, context can go a very long way, Simon.” 

 

“About how I was protective of you.”

 

“Oh… Uh…”

 

“I wonder how cute she will look with a bullet...”  - Nope, not that, shit.

 

“ Almost as much of a mystery as that…” - No no, Not that. Probably make someone jealous.

 

“... so protective of your…”

 

“...Protective of your… Oh, how protective you were of me?  And how I was lucky to have you?”

 

“When’d he tell ye that, hen?”  You tilt your head to the side and open your eyes slightly wider at him for a quick moment, asking him ‘really?’ without having to actually ask it.  “Oh fuck, ‘m sorry, shouldn'a asked ye that.”

 

“‘Ts alright, Johnny.  She gets it.  Gonna need to be that in case Makarov is watching.”

 

Ahh… yeah makes sense… good thinking in telling Johnny.

 

“Right.  Leaning on you like I'm still in mourning for my husband.”  You lift your left hand and wiggle your fingers, showing that you have the ring on.  “Can't even take off my wedding ring I'm just so distraught.”

 

Johnny grabs your hand, kissing the back of it and running his thumb over the ring on your finger.  “Think I can live with that for now.”

 

“If it makes you feel better, can't kiss her through the mask, Johnny.”

 

You reach over and punch Simon in the arm as he chuckles and heads out the door, calling after Gaz on his way out and telling you “Five minutes before we leave, dove.”

 

Gaz makes his way outside, clapping Soap on the back on his way out.  Leaving you alone with Soap, with Price bumbling his way around the kitchen and humming to himself.  

 

“I can work with five minutes… queen.”

 

“Oh sure, when I make jokes it's terrible, but when you do it's completely fine.”

 

“Who said I was jokin’?”

 

You roll your eyes at him as he grins.  “Then prove it to me later, when I'm not about to be sacrificed like a goat to try to lure out a terrorist?”

 

“I'll hold ye to it, lass.”  He scoops you up into his arms, pulling you against him tightly before kissing you deeply, lingering for a moment, almost refusing to let you pull away at all before finally letting you catch your breath.  “Defini'ly holdin’ ye to it.”

 

He reluctantly releases you, walking behind you to the door and watching as you climb into the back of the jeep.  You wish you didn't have to leave him behind.  But you at least won't be gone for very long.

Chapter 28: Uneventful

Notes:

Happy New Year!

Hope your holidays have been well.

The trip into town was uneventful.

 

Gaz drove, so you made it there easily enough.

 

You talked strategy with the boys, testing out the ear piece with Soap to make sure it was operational.  But he was on his best behavior since Papa Price was sitting next to him.

 

Ghost opted to stick with his skull mask, which was definitely the way to go if you are trying to draw some attention from a terrorist.  Both of them stayed close.

 

You made your way through the store.  Staying quiet for the most part.  Mostly just listening to the four of them over comms going back and forth.  Responding only to Ghost or Gaz, just to keep up appearances of the sullen, mourning wife.  But also to not give any indication that you had the earpiece and could hear everything from both sides.  Just like you went over on the ride to town.

 

There were some suspicions of a few straggling strangers that may have followed you through the store.  Though a lot of it was coincidence.  The guys played it off as much, anyway.  You hope they were being genuine over it.  Especially after what happened earlier.

 

Since you were out you grabbed a few bath bombs since you had a tub available to you, and some food items through the grocery side of the store.  You did promise to make dinner, and wanted to make sure you had things for a few actual meals to go along with items you found at the safe house.

 

It was a great trip.

 

No tails.  No Makarov.

 

Even with Ghost behind the wheel this time, you felt a hundred times better about everything.

 

You did what you said you would do.

 

You were excited to get back to the safe house.

 

Though a lot of that was because you had a certain Scotsman waiting for you at the house and there was a lot to talk.

 

---

 

“ Oi lass, talk to us !”

 

You end up coughing yourself awake, your throat sort of burning with the rest of you just feeling stiff and in pain.

 

Shit, when did I fall asleep?

 

“Ahh… fuck…”

 

“You alright, Dove?”

 

“Uh… peachy… I think?  Gaz, how ya doin’, bud?”

 

“Knocked about, but fine little miss.  Can you get yourself unbuckled?”

 

“Ah fuck… maybe… feel like I was hit by a truck…”

 

Considering the three of you were just hit by a dump truck moments ago, it's no wonder you feel the way you do.  The jeep had been hit at just the right angle that when it crashed, it flipped and skid quite a ways across the road.  You apparently blacked out at some point, so aren't exactly sure of a lot of details.

 

You were trying to get yourself free of the seat belt as the jeep lay on it's side.  Ghost freed himself of his own and was crawling into the backseat next to you to get to you to cut you out of yours, finding your leg pinned between the seat and part of the door panel.  Your head was throbbing on top of it.  Probably why you blacked out.

 

“How copy, hen?”  Johnny's voice startled you for a second until you remembered the reason why you could hear him.

 

“Fine… copy… fuckin’ ow. ”

 

“Where the fuck'd that truck come from?”  Gaz had freed himself and was grabbing a gun, checking it over to gauge if it was still functional.  It was then that you heard shouting from outside of the jeep.  

 

Ghost worked harder at trying to free you, with you doing everything possible to help.  Gaz signaled for both of you to be quiet, which you stopped moving for a moment and listened.  

 

Fuck .

 

“Russians?”

 

“ Sit tight, we're heading to ye’re location. ”

 

“Don't think you'll make it, Johnny.”  Ghost says quietly before he ends up wrenching your leg a bit to free you, with you desperately biting down on your hand as hard as you can to try to stifle the scream from pain erupting from you.

 

“ Sure as hell gonna try, L.T.”

 

“Don't do it on my account, Bubbles.”  Gaz and Ghost end up pulling you to the back of the jeep, Gaz crawling out the back window and using the jeep for cover, firing off a few rounds.

 

“Tangos down.  Might be more coming.”  Gaz says while leaning down and reaching back in to grab one of your arms, Ghost grabbing the other to pull you the rest of the way out of the jeep.  You help the best you can, despite the searing pain in your leg and your head throbbing terribly.

 

“ Bravos 0-7 and 2-6, get yourselves and the package out of there. ”  Price chimes in over the ear piece.  You would love to make a joke about being a ‘package’, but you try to focus on moving as quickly as you can.  Ghost leads you all off of the road and down into a ditch, off towards a field, Gaz helping you with one of your arms thrown around his neck to take weight off your injured leg.  

 

Ghost slows down to take your other arm, the two of them lifting you moving even faster for a moment before finding cover with some trees.  They eventually set you down, Gaz looking over your leg with Ghost keeping watch.

 

“ Bravo 0-7, how copy? ”  Price is his usual stoic self on the earpiece.  It's actually a little fascinating to you, hearing and seeing them operate as ‘Bravo Team’.  And slightly terrifying.

 

“Solid.  Package has a few dings and dents, Gaz is looking her over now.”

 

“Oh noooo, I'm damaged goods.”  Gaz tears the pant leg of your leggings open to get a better look at things.  There's a nice scrape along the side of your leg from having to be freed, but your knee is where a lot of the pain is.  All in all, it could be worse.  

 

“Still alive, that's what matters.”  Gaz works on using the torn pant leg to wrap around your knee, tieing it to keep it secured, mostly to try to have it act as a soft brace.  You reach up to rub your forehead, your head really starting to throb again.  Though your fingers are greeted with a warm stickiness that you didn't realize was there before.  You pull your hand away to look at it.

 

Oh.  Oh that's.  That's a lot of blood.  Head wounds bleed a lot, though.  That's normal.  Yeah.  Gotta be normal.

 

Gaz has noticed too, carefully looking your head over to find where the bleeding is coming from.  “Bit of a head wound here, doesn't look too bad.”

 

“ Best not be lyin’ to me, Gaz. ”

 

“He is.  It's terrible.  Half my head's been dented in.  I've lost so many brain cells.”

 

“That's just the side effects of hanging out with Johnny, Dove.”

 

“ OI! ”

 

“She's slept with him long enough, that's not helped our little miss out either.”

 

You laugh a little but start wincing in pain.  “Yeah, losing sleep because of his snoring really has taken a toll on my IQ.”

 

“Not the sleeping I was referring to.”  Gaz digs out some sterile gauze pads from one of the many pockets of his tack gear, tearing one open and getting back to your bleeding head.

 

“You do realize we haven't actually… slept together?”  

 

He stops trying to address your head wound for a moment to look at you.  “Wait, you mean all this time, you two have only been… sleeping?”  

 

“ Fuckin’ told ye eejits!”

 

“Holds a different weight when it comes from the little miss, bruv.”  Gaz does what he can to secure the gauze to the wound, though the amount of blood slowly leaking from it has helped keep it in place anyway.  He ends up tearing away at the other leg of your pants, making a long enough strip with the stretchy fabric of your leggings to tie it into place.  Twigs snapping elsewhere takes his attention off of you, Ghost already standing at the ready and pointing his gun in that direction.  Gaz stands to do the same.

 

You try to stand, leaning on a nearby tree heavily to keep pressure off of your leg before you try to put any weight on it.  Though it wasn't the greatest idea to try to do so, as you end up falling back to the ground in searing pain.  You breathe your way through it as Ghost starts backing up towards you.  He slings his gun over his shoulder before assessing your knee himself.

 

“Might be dislocated.  Best not try and walk on it for now, Dove.”

 

“Was hoping neither of you had to carry my big ass out of here, didn't want to slow anyone down.”

 

“Carried Johnny out of a few situations myself.  Your arse isn’t nearly as big as his.  Smaller head and ego too, you’ll be a cake walk.”

 

“ OI!  Fuck you, L.T.!”

 

Ghost goes to stand, but you grab him by his collar and keep him from moving.  Reaching out towards him, next to his eye and at the very edge of his mask, you use a finger to wipe away the blood that has formed there.  “You got a bonked too, eh?”

 

“Might’ve.”

 

“How bad?”

 

“Haven't looked yet.  Will when we're not being hunted.”

 

You go to argue with him that you were perfectly capable of having a quick look, but shouts in Russian come from the direction of the road.  Gaz glides over to help Ghost pull you up to stand, with Ghost hoisting you up over his shoulder so he can still shoot, Gaz going back to covering both of you.

 

“Bravo 2-6 to 0-6, position has been compromised, moving us and the package to try and get some cover.”

 

“ Copy, get yourselves safe.  ETA 10 minutes.”

 

“Shootin’ for 5.  Already told ye I can’ lose ye, princess.  Gonna make sure I don’.”

 

“Price, make sure Bubbles doesn't do anything stupid.”  You see the holster for Ghost's sidearm and take note of it.  You may not be able to walk, but you could shoot if you had to.

 

“ Already on it, love.  Don't think there's a helmet big enough for that head of his, though. ”

 

“ Oi!  What the FUCK, Price?!”

 

Further into the trees, Ghost sets you down and leans you against one of them, you taking his sidearm from him.  He gives you a nod and hunkers down himself after motioning for you to be quiet, taking cover while assessing the situation.  You take the safety off for now, hoping you don't have to use the damn thing.  

 

From your position, you can't exactly see nearly as much as Gaz or Ghost, mostly leaving you at their mercy.  They fire off a few shots here and there, confirming kills between them.

 

“ Bravo team, how copy? ”

 

“Solid.  Tangos down, unsure of their numbers though.  Dove is still hanging in there.”

 

“ Talk to me, hen. ”

 

“Hanging in there, just like Simon says.”

 

“Simon Says - focus on getting us out of here alive, Johnny.”

 

“ Workin’ on it, L.T. ”

 

“Good boy, Bubbles.”

 

Gaz fires off a few more shots, though doesn’t confirm any kills.  You slide a little closer to the edge of the tree trunk, trying to get a better look at the situation.  You try to calm yourself, but are understandably doing a terrible job at doing so.

 

“ Bravo team, ETA 6 minutes.  How copy? ”

 

“Standing our ground.”  Simon tells Price while shooting off a few rounds of his own.

 

You wish you weren't so useless at the moment.  Hiding behind a tree while your boys put their lives on the line just to keep you alive.  

 

Your leg starts to throb more.  Your head hurts like hell.  You reach up to check the gauze and you feel it's already soaked through.  You'll probably need a few stitches just to get yourself somewhat put back together.  

 

You close your eyes and lean your head back against the tree, trying to get your bearings.  Trying to breathe through the pain.  Trying to…

 

Well, you absolutely try to brush your thoughts away the moment they start to form, but you can't help it…

 

Is this all worth it?

 

I'm just one person.  And a fucking psychopath is hell bent on taking me out.

 

For what?

 

So much blood already shed.

 

Because of me.

 

Guilty by association.  For living with these men.  For loving these men.  

 

So many have died.  These people, whoever the fuck they are, are dead because one man wants me dead.

 

“ Hen, ye still with me?” 

 

You nod slowly, then remember Soap isn't there yet and cannot see you.  “With ya.”

 

“ Almos’ there, just hang on for a li'l longer. ”

 

You gasp, eyes flying open at the sound of a familiar click of metal.

 

No.  No fucking way…

 

There, standing before you, a very familiar face, and very a familiar gun, pointed directly at your head.

 

“ Good afternoon… Mrs. MacTavish .”

Notes:

Shit.

Again?

We're doing this again?!

....yes, yes we are.

** Slight little edit to the last few lines of the chapter to roll into the next one.

Chapter 29: Good Afternoon

Notes:

I did make a teeny tiny wee baby edit to the very last few lines in Chapter 28. I tried writing this chapter a few different ways, but it just wasn't right.

With the previous chapter edit, this makes it much more on brand for Makarov in my opinion.

The gun was Makarov's.  You stared at the damn thing long enough the first time, you weren't about to forget that.

 

Makarov himself was not in front of you.  Makarov's face was in front of 

you.  Because the one behind the gun has his phone shoved right in front of you, and the fucking bastard is sneering at you behind the screen.

 

A fucking video call.  

 

“Makarov...”

“ Bleedin’ Jesus, Makarov's there?” Johnny almost sounds out of breath. 

 

“ Unfortunate that we are meeting like this under such circumstances, Mrs. MacTavish.  Though I am very glad to see that you survived our previous encounter .”

 

The one holding the phone turns, showing Makarov that Ghost and Gaz are standing there, guns pointed at him.  Unfortunately, there are four others standing there with their guns pointed at Gaz and Ghost.

 

“ I see we have a Ghost and the one called Gaz in our midst!  Pleasure seeing you again, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick.  Thank you for looking after the little housewife in my absence .”

 

“ Where is that fuckin’ son of a bitch? ”  This is probably the angriest you have ever heard Soap in all the years you have known him.  

 

Easy, Bubbles…

 

“You're men are surrounded here, Makarov.  Tell them to back off and let the girl go.”  Ghost glances at you for just a moment.  You give him the slightest head nod that you can, acknowledging that you see him.

 

“ Fuckin’ hell Captain, faster! ”  Soap is almost losing his shit on comms.  You want to tell him to cool his tits, but you know you can't acknowledge anything.

 

“ I think not, Lieutenant Riley.  I underestimate you before, but right now I believe I have the upper hand .”

 

“You underestimate a lot of other things… Not very intelligent, are you Vlad ?”  You almost spit out at him.

 

The phone is turned back to you so you can see Makarov.  His face almost darkens as rage starts to overtake him.  Though he still tries to keep his composure.  “ I suppose it is only fair you know my name as I know yours.  Please, I prefer Vladimir .”

 

“I'd prefer it if you were called dead, bruv.”  Gaz adjusts his stance slightly, gun aimed at the one with the phone.  

 

Makarov laughs.  “ If only you had better control of the situation, Sergeant Garrick!  Seems as though you and your team are three steps behind yet again.”  He's been studying you through the phone, tsk tsk'ing at you while slightly shaking his head.   “Unfortunate.  I would punish the driver for causing you so much hurt Mrs. MacTavish, but it seems the job has been done for me .”

 

“ Bravo team, we are in your vicinity.  Hang tight, finding a position .”  Price says quietly from your ear piece. 

 

Digging your nails into your palm, you keep your other hand under you as much as possible, gripping the side arm a little tighter.  You'd only get one shot out of this, and you were going to make damn sure it counted.  You just had to bide your time.  

 

“The 141 are good at their job.  Better than all of your men combined, Vlad.  You really should be here so you could see it for yourself first hand. “

 

“ Are they so good if I have my team surrounding you ?”  Makarov's smile is absolutely sinister.

 

“Most of your team has already been taken out, Mak.  The rest aren't too far behind.  If you weren't such a pussy, you'd be here giving them a proper send off.”  You smile at the phone before glancing up at the one holding it.  Winking at him.

 

“ I see you have the same mouth as your husband.  Perhaps it's time you finally join him ?”  He starts shouting in Russian at his team, who then change their positions and point their guns at each of you.

 

“ Bravo team, on my mark.  Three, two… ” Price is in your ear again.

 

You shift, bringing the side arm up from underneath you, pointing it at the one holding the phone and shooting.  You'd shot him in the arm that was holding the gun, making him drop it.  Before you have time to react to exactly what you have just done, you aim another shot to the leg, pulling the trigger and making him drop.  Incapacitating him.  At the same time you fired your shots, Gaz, Ghost, Price, and Soap took down the other four, each of them dropping where they stood.

 

Soap was running towards you, gun pointed at the guy before he can move, but you held your hand up to stop him from getting any closer.  You didn't want him to be seen or even heard as long as Makarov was on the phone.

 

You are able to sit up enough to reach over rip the phone from his hand, wiping some blood off the screen using the sleeve of your hoodie. Makarov was still shouting in Russian until he saw your face.

 

“You really should have been here, Vlad…”  You then hold the phone up, passing it off to Price, figuring he's going to want it anyway to get any intel possible off of the thing.  Mostly because seeing yourself splattered with someone else's blood was enough to make you want to throw up.  

 

Gaz and Ghost are on the man you shot after confirming their kills, pulling him away from you.  You carefully lean yourself over and grab onto the gun that he dropped, getting a better look at it.  It was definitely Makarov's.  You wonder if it was because he wanted you to die by his gun since he wouldn't personally be here to kill you himself.  A roundabout way of being able to have bragging rights to your death.

 

“Show's over, Makarov.  You failed yet again.”  Price holds the phone up to talk to him, making sure the camera is pointed away from Soap.

 

“ This is not over yet John Price.  Soon I will make sure you all join your Sergeant.  Until then, Captain .”   He cuts off the call then, and Price shuts the phone off before stuffing it into his tac.

 

“Should be able to get some information off of him.  Nice shooting there, Dove.”  Ghost is inspecting the man you put a couple bullets into as he speaks in Russian.

 

“I was aiming for his head.”  Gaz shakes his head at you.  “Hope you are joking, missy.”

 

Soap finally drops down to the ground at your side, pulling you against him and burying his face into you.  “Fuckin’ hell princess, ye scare the fuck outta me sometimes, ye know that?”

 

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, babes.”  You wrap your arm around him slightly for just a moment before pulling away, the position you are sitting in making your head start to throb in pain.

 

“Hells fuckin’ bells, ye're a righ’ fuckin’ mess.”  He pulls a pack of gauze from his gear, ripping it open with his teeth and pressing it to your head wound with you hissing at him and grabbing his arm as your face scrunches up.  “Leas’ tha’ pret’y li'l head of ye'res isn't dented in.”

 

“I was about to have a bullet in it.  We coulda been twinsies.”

 

“Rather not try fate like that, hen.  Ye'll probably need some stitches, we'll call it even on head wounds for now, aye?”  He gently takes your hand, kissing the back of it before making you hold the gauze in place on your head, shifting down and having a look at your knee.  Price is calling for exfil.

 

“Ghost might be righ’ about ye dislocating it.  Medics will give ye a proper look and set ye right.”

 

“Ghost needs looked at too, don't let him tell you otherwise.  I didn't get a good look at Gaz, but I'm sure he has his own bumps and brui- AAHH!  FUCK!”  Soap tried to shift your leg a little to get you better situated, with you gripping onto his arm even tighter and digging your nails into him.

 

“Sorry!  Sorry, though’ if ye could just get your leg shifted it'll be easier to get ye moved.”

 

“It's fine, just… gotta let me have some warning next time, yeah?”  You were taking deep breaths to get yourself through the pain. Eventually you got yourself moved over under your own strength.

 

“That's not how you wanna make Dove scream, Johnny!”  Ghost calls over, having busied himself by tying up the man you shot and prepping to get him the hell out as well.  

 

“Wow Si, you must really want me to kick your ass.”  You look over at him before watching Gaz gag the new prisoner.

 

“You can try after that leg of yours heals.  The key word in that sentence being ‘try’.”  You lift your arm up and give him the finger.  He's trying hard to be the ever professional Lieutenant Riley in front of the prisoner, but he reaches up and acts like he's scratching at his eye, giving you the finger in return.

 

Johnny lifts your other hand off of your head and checks you over.  “Bleedin's slowin’ down.  Head's always the worst.”

 

You look up at Price as he walks back in your direction.  “Exfil’s on the way.  Gaz and I will get the prisoner.  Ghost, you help Soap with the package.”

 

“Ghost helps Soap with his package plenty, Price.”

 

“ Oi !”  Both Soap and Ghost chastise you simultaneously.  Price just shakes his head at you and walks away mumbling, grabbing the prisoner and hoisting him to his feet with Gaz, half dragging him off towards an incoming chopper.

 

Ghost bends down and carefully adjusts your legs while Soap grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck.  As he slides one arm under your knees to lift you, you grabbing onto him tightly while he stands.  It still amazes you how he can pretty much toss you around like a sack of potatoes.

 

Ghost walks in step with Soap as you are carried off to be taken back.  You notice more blood has soaked through Ghost's mask, and as badly as you want to stop and get a good look at him, you know he wouldn't let you get near him right now.  You suppose since he is upright it might not be that bad…

 

---

 

“Come on hen, ye can squeeze tighter than tha’.”

 

“I don't want to hurt you again, Bubbles.”

 

“Ye aren’ gonna hurt me, princess.”

 

“You say that, but if I accidentally rip it off…”

 

“Ye're not rippin’ anything off that easy.  Hurts ye a hell of a lot more than me.”

 

“Give him hell, Dove.  You'll be glad you did.”

 

You all had been taken back to base, with Soap taking you directly to the infirmary.  Ghost was there getting looked at, too.  You were watching him until the needles came out, and then you started feeling queasy.

 

Needles… fucking hate needles…

 

Soap was shoving his hand back into yours while you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stay calm.  You could handle needles as long as you didn't have to see them.  You could get poked with them as long as you didn't watch it go through your skin.  Or anyone else's skin for that matter.  

 

You had already squeezed the shit out of Johnny's hand when they numbed your knee.  Probably about broke it along with his eardrums when you screamed in pain while they set it back into place and you weren't entirely numb enough.  The medic put a brace on it now to keep things where they should be, but were now working on the cut on your head.  It'd mostly stopped bleeding, but definitely needed a few stitches.

 

You were only slightly squeezing Johnny's hand again, eyes closed even though you couldn't see anything that they were doing.  You could feel him lightly rubbing his thumb over your skin, trying to soothe you.  It wasn't exactly working, but you weren't going to tell him to stop anytime soon.

 

“So when do we get to go back to the safe house?  I mean I did sorta promise to make dinner and stuff… which… the groceries for that dinner are probably a little… Ya know, I’m starting to think Makarov is just an asshole whenever I go grocery shopping, that’s twice now that fucker has ambushed me after I went to the store.”

 

Soap chuckles, leaning in and kissing your cheek softly.  “Rat bastard has it in for us.”  

 

“Dude’s tried to kill me twice because of you Bubbles.  Would love to know exactly why he has it out for me.  Don’t suppose that prisoner you took gave any sort of insight for any of us?”

 

“He’s not been interrogated as of yet, Dove.  Will definitely try to get something from him.”

 

The medic finally finishes with stitching your head back together and placing a bandage over it before ripping their gloves off.  “You’ll need to stay here for the night for observation, Mrs. MacTavish.”

 

“She’ll be gettin’ all the observations she needs from me, Doc.”  Johnny is already standing and grabbing your arms to move them around his neck before scooping you up off of the gurney.

 

“Sergeant MacTavish, your wife needs -”

 

“Me.  And if something goes sideways, we know where to find ye.”  He’s at the doors, kicking them open and carrying you off towards his living quarters, Ghost right behind the pair of you.

 

“Hey Si, how hard would it be to commandeer the officer’s lounge?”

 

“What’re you planning, Dove?”

 

“Slumber party.  There’s enough head wounds and injuries to go around between you, me, and Gaz.  We can all keep an eye on each other for tonight.”

 

“Hmm.  Not bad.  I’ll let the Captain know.”  Ghost claps Soap on the shoulder and heads off to Price’s office.

 

“Ye sure about this, hen?”

 

“It’ll make me feel better.  I’m basically the reason behind everyone being hurt anyways.  Why not have a misfit slumber party so we can monitor everyone for a concussions?"

 

Johnny nods, tilting and kissing your cheek gently.  “Whatever ye want, Princess.”

 

Chapter 30: Feelings

You keep one arm hooked around Johnny’s neck while grabbing his keys from his pocket, unlocking his door for him and pushing it open.  Carefully he maneuvers both of you through the doorway, kicking the door shut and gently setting you down on top of his desk.

 

Before you even have a chance to say anything or even untangle yourself from him to be set down, his mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply while pulling you to the edge of the desk to hold you closer to him.  You are caught completely by surprise, your reaction even delayed by a moment before you start kissing him back.  When he finally releases your lips he kisses up and down your cheeks before pulling you into a tight hug, burying his face against your neck.

 

“Ye scared the absolute shite out of me, m’girl.”

 

You bring your arms up and around him, placing one hand on the back of his head and try soothing him by running your fingers through his mohawk.  He's damn near trembling against you.  

 

“I know.  I'm sorry, Johnny.  But I'm ok.”

 

He shakes his head, wrapping his arms tighter around you.  “No.  No, this is not ‘okay’.”

 

“It is, though.  You've come home a hell of a lot worse.”

 

“Tha's differen’.” 

 

“There's nothing different about what I did compared to what you do all the time.”

 

He pulls away from you, using those bright blue eyes to stare you down.  “I do those things cause it's my job .”

 

“This time it was my job.  And now it's done, and I don't have to do anything like that again.”

 

“Ye're damn righ’ ye're not doin’ tha’ again!”   

 

“ Hey .  Take it easy, Bubbles.”  He goes to protest, probably about to yell at you some more, but you clamp your hand over his mouth.

 

“ Stop .  I’m fine .”  He looks at you completely unimpressed, reaching up and taking your hand off of his mouth to lift it up to your face.  It’s then that you realize it’s the same hand you used to get in a fight with a tree earlier and lost.  You’d lost the bandage somewhere, so you get to see it scabbed over in all it’s glory.  It’s not pretty by any means, but it does sort of prove his point on just how ‘fine’ you have been lately.

 

“That… was before I made myself the bait to lure out the stupid crazy terrorist?”

 

“An’ ye weren’ fine then either, were ye?  Ye were already strugglin’ wit’ all this before, and then ye le’ them dangle ye like a fuckin’ goat !”

 

“It was my idea, remember?”

 

“An’ I hated it from the beginnin’.  Only thing I could do is kiss ye goodbye then sit there and watch.”

 

“Well now you know how I feel.”

 

“Fuck's tha’ suppose to mean?”

 

SHIT … Did I just say that out loud?

 

“Nothing.”  You push him back so you can hop down off of his desk.  Or… you try to, anyway.  But he's definitely not moving now.

 

“Wha’ do ye mean, now I know how ye feel?”

 

“It means… absolutely nothing.  So could you move your ass?  I'd like to shower off before the slumber party with the boys.”

 

“No’ til ye tell me what ye meant.”

 

“Nothing.  I'm talking out my ass right now because my head is a little fucked up.  Mighta knocked some brain cells loose back there when we flipped.”

 

“Why no’ jus’ tell me wha’ ye mean’?”

 

“Ya know when you get yourself all riled up you start to drop your t's out of your words?”

 

“Now who's tryin’ to change the subjec’?”

 

“I'm not, I'm jus t poin t ing i t ou t.”  

 

“Now ye're jus’ tryin’ to piss me off.”

 

“Oh stop it, Johnny.”  You nudge him out of your way, but instead he pushes you back further onto his desk, boxing you in by standing between your legs and placing a hand on either side of you.

 

“Tell me what is going on in tha’ pre’ty head of yers.”

 

“The only thing going on in this head is a throbbing headache, and I'd rather have throbbing feelings in other places.”

 

That almost got him to break his resolve.  The gears grinding for a minute while it shifted, but slid back into Soap Mode before he got too far away from it.  He leans forward more, crowding you, making you lean back and against the wall that his desk is shoved up against.  You keep your composure while smiling at him, slowly blinking at him like he was a cat and you were trying to earn his trust.

 

“Would you please let me down?  I'm all banged up and gross and just wanna clean up and change into something more comfortable.”

 

“Then ye best get to tellin’ me wha’ ye meant.”

 

Your smile drops a little as you sigh, moving your head back and accidentally thumping it against the wall.  You wince a little in pain.

 

“You are such a pain in my ass.”

 

“Ye still love me though.”

 

“Do I?”

 

“Aye.  So… tell me.”  He leans in, catching your lips with his softly.  “Wha’ did ye mean…?”

 

You kiss him back gently, raising an eyebrow at him.  “Interrogate all your prisoners like this, MacTavish?”

 

“Course no’.  Don’ get prisoners as beau'iful as ye are, lass.”  He grins at you.  

 

You can feel your face get warm, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him with a smile.  “Smoooooth, Johnny.”  You sit up and start pulling your arms out of the sleeves of his hoodie that you've borrowed.  Johnny stands up a little straighter, carefully helping you extract yourself.  Which turns out to be a godsend, since you honestly didn't realize how sore you were until just now.  Once it's off, Johnny tosses it aside before unstrapping the Kevlar vest he put you in earlier.  You watch him concentrating on ripping away the velcro and pulling the vest off of you fully.  

 

Throwing that next to the discarded hoodie, he turns his attention back to you, staring into your eyes again while gently placing his hands on your thighs, giving each a light squeeze.  “Tell me.”

 

“If I tell you, will you please let me shower?”

 

“Aye.”

 

You eye him up and down, sizing him up and trying to determine if he could actually handle it.  After a moment of thinking, you lift your eyes back up to his.  “Sweetie, how many times have I had to say goodbye to you and just let you walk out the door?”

 

He frowns slightly, shrugging and giving you a puzzled look.

 

“Dozens.  Maybe close to a hundred at this point.  And all of those times, the only thing I could do is hug you, kiss you, tell you to be safe, and then watch as you all drove away.”

 

A flash of guilt crosses his face, but he stays quiet.

 

“Yeah.  So now you have a taste of why I've felt.”

 

“Didn’ mean to… I…  I didn’ realize…”

 

“You weren't supposed to.”

 

“How come ye never told me?”

 

“The last thing you need to be doing is worrying about me when out on a mission.  I can do the worrying for all of us just fine by myself.”

 

“Ye shoulda said somethin’.”

 

“Nope.  And if I didn't have my head head bounced around, I wouldn't have let it slip.”

 

He glances up at the bandage on your head before looking back down at you.  “Ye can’ shower and get ye're head wet ye know.”

 

“I was sorta hoping you could help me with that.”

 

God damn that grin…

 

“...In the sink, Johnny.”

 

He clicks his tongue at you.  “Always gotta take the fun out of it for me, eh lass?”

 

“Yeah, I always navigate my day by asking myself ‘how can I be a buzzkill for Johnny today?’”

 

“I believe it, princess.”  He hooks his hands behind your knees and pulls you to the edge of the desk, picking you up and carrying you the few steps to the bathroom.

 

“I can walk, ya know!”

 

“Best not risk it, hen.”

 

---

 

“You are supposed to be resting, love.”

 

“I'm supposed to be doing a lot of things, but here we are.”

 

You had Johnny steal Price's office chair since it had wheels, and were currently using your good leg to maneuver yourself around the Officer's Lounge.  After Johnny helped you with your hair you found standing in the shower was a little more difficult than anticipated with your bum knee.  It was mostly just sore and couldn't tolerate holding all your weight just yet.  Using the chair to get around for now want too horrible.  Besides, Price had to chaperone anyways since he and Soap were the only two not involved in a major collision recently.  So to make sure he didn't go lock himself in his office and grumble over shuffling paperwork, you made sure you had his chair.

 

“And what are you supposed to be doing right now?”

 

“Slaving over a hot stove in a tiny little kitchen and smacking the back of your hand with a spoon because you wanted to make sure dinner wasn't poison.”

 

Price chuckles and shrugs in agreement.  “Gaz would be telling us the best way to torture him would to be to tie him up and deny him your food.”

 

“Ghost would be tieing him to his chair…”

 

“Soap would be claiming Gaz's plate as his own.”

 

“And ye'd be tellin’ us to stop actin’ like children.”  Johnny was carrying an armful of blankets and pillows into the lounge, tossing them onto the couch and dusting his hands off.

 

You wheel yourself over to the couch to check on everything he brought in, grabbing one of your softer blankets and wrapping it around your shoulders.  Ghost comes in with his cot dragging behind him.

 

“Good call on bringing your cot with you, Simon.  Though ten points from Slytherin for not asking Price or Johnny for help.”  You snicker as he sets it in the corner.  

 

“The fuck is a ‘slitherin’, dove?”  You turn the chair and push yourself backwards to him, where he sits down and gives you his best unimpressed look while trying not to smile.

 

“What you’d love to do with some of the nurses around here?”  You grin at him, though his expression doesn’t seem to change.  “Come on, that was funny!  It’s a Harry Potter thing.  Seriously though, the cot was a good idea.  Especially since snuggling on the couch with Price wouldn't be nearly as comfortable.”

 

“He's missing out, love.  I've got it on good authority that I'm an excellent snuggler.”  Ghost glares at Price, who is trying to hide himself while he starts chuckling again.

 

“...Five bucks if you snuggle with Price, Simon.”

 

“You first, Dove.”

 

“Dibs!”  Gaz is struggling with his own cot as he drags it into the lounge. “Wait, what am I even calling dibs on?”

 

“You get to snuggle with Price now, Kyle.  And ten points from Hufflepuff for not asking for help, dude!”

 

“Wait, we weren't snuggling with you?  Un-dibs!”  Gaz sets his cot down next to Ghost, but then drags it a few feet away from his as an afterthought.

 

“I call dibs on you, Dove.”  Ghost reaches over and pulls you onto his lap, with you laughing as he kicks the chair off to the side.  “Sorry Johnny, best of luck next time.”

 

“Oi!  Who said anythin’ ‘bout callin’ dib on snugglin’ with m’girl?’

 

“English, Johnny.”  

 

“It’s bad enough your whole base thinks I’m some sort of fuck buddy or whatever while I’m supposed to be married to Johnny, how about we not call dibs on me?”

 

“They call it ‘barracks bunny’, hen.”  

 

“That doesn’t make it any better, Johnny.”  Soap laughs before he heads out of the lounge and back in the direction of his room.

 

“No one’d dare call you anything of the sort with me around, love.”

 

“I’m not worried about that, Price.  Isn’t it weird?”

 

“Why would it be weird, Dove?”

 

“Some day I won’t be here anymore?”  Simon actually wraps his around around you and pulls you a little closer after saying that.  You look at him and roll your eyes.  “Not like… dead or something.  Just not here here.  And the gossip won’t really go anywhere.”

 

“Military has a lot of gossip that goes around.  Sometimes they just don’t have much better to do, love.”

 

“Only thing you have to worry about around here is a jealous Johnny.  Bruv is wicked protective of ya little miss, and that’s not about to change.”  Gaz rolls out onto his cot for a minute to stretch out and relax.  You can only sigh and nod as a response.  It’s true.  You can’t control what anyone is going to think about you.  You can just grin and bear it for now and leave it as it is.

 

Johnny comes back in after a few minutes with his cot, shoving up tight against the wall before tossing your pillows and blankets onto it.  He stops and stares as you as you are still sitting on Simon’s lap, with his protective arm around your waist.  You smile as you watch the hint of jealousy spread over his face.  In it’s own way, it’s kinda cute.  Endearing.  You half wonder how long ago the jealous streak kicked in.  Was he always sorta jealous of anyone you were around that wasn’t him?  Was it only more recent?  

 

You hook your good leg into the arm of Price’s chair and roll it back over towards yourself, picking yourself up out of SImon’s and moving to the chair, rolling off towards the mini kitchen in the corner.  “Someone pick out a movie, I’ll make the popcorn.  Then we can get some rest, cause I dunno about the rest of you but I could definitely use a nap or seven.”

Notes:

My household is havoc and chaos, so writing isn't easy to do for the time being. Worked on this far longer than I wanted to, was hoping to put it out sooner. Hopefully things will get back to normal within the next few weeks. Fingers crossed, anyway.

 

Also - I figure Simon is a Slytherin, Kyle is Hufflepuff, Price is Ravenclaw, and Soap is a Gryffindor if they were to be sorted into Hogwarts houses.

Chapter 31: Sleepover

Notes:

It's a full moon, so all the things are happening tonight! If you work anywhere near medical, you know just what I'm talking about.

To pass the time since keeping isn't happening, and to make up for my longish absence you get a double post this week.

You tried so hard to fall asleep.

 

But sleep wasn't coming anywhere near you at the moment.

 

Johnny fought like hell to stay awake.  But with you curled up with him on the couch watching the movie and running your fingers through his mohawk, he was out like a light.  

 

Price was in the recliner next to you and Soap.  He too succumbed easily to sleep, though once he tipped his hat to cover his eyes you knew he was done for.  His snoring probably isn't helping much with you falling asleep.

 

So much for them being on watch.

 

Gaz had positioned his cot so he could lay on it and watch the movie.  But he didn't make it too far in before he was asleep.  You covered him with one of your many blankets and watched him curl up.  Price woke him a few times to check on him early on, but since he didn't have any signs of a concussion you let him be.

 

Ghost was awake still.  Sitting on the other end of the couch, using Price's chair to kick up his feet, leaning over the arm of the couch and propping his head up with his hand.  He looked just as tired as you felt.

 

You carefully extracted yourself from Soap's grip, sneaking your pillow into his arms as a sad replacement for yourself.  He hugged it tightly and even buried his face into it.  Still sound asleep.  You adjusted your blanket over him before slowly moving away from him and sliding over.  Ghost had his eyes on you from the moment you had started moving.

 

You scooted until you were sitting next to Simon, scrunching your good leg up and tucking it underneath you while talking quietly so you didn't wake the others.  “You alright?”

 

Simon grunted, turning his attention back to the TV.  “You?”

 

You grunt at him the same way he did with you.  You can hear him breathe out a very quiet chuckle, with him reaching over and lightly patting your knee.  You shrug, reaching up and tapping his mask covered temple.  He shrugs in return, looking over at you again.  You can tell he's smiling a little at you.

 

“How's the head, Dove?”

 

“Well, I've never heard Soap complain.”  You bite your finger to stop yourself from laughing too loud when Ghost whips his head around and looks at you.  “I'm just fucking with you, Simon.  Pretty sure if that ever happened, you’d have heard about it.  And we haven't done anything .”  After fighting back to giggles for a few minutes you finally look up at him.  “Physically?  Hurts a little and I have a headache.  Mentally?  Fucked.”

 

“Girl after my own heart.”

 

“Mhm.  How's your noggin?”

 

“Scrambled eggs on toast.”

 

You let out a giggle, catching yourself before you get too loud.  “Did you get cleaned up?”

 

“Best I could.”

 

You untuck your leg and stand up, grabbing the chair from under Simon's feet and waiting for him to move them before you start rolling the chair towards the mini kitchen, using it to help you walk.  You jerk your head at Ghost, beckoning him to follow you.  He stands quickly and follows close behind.  You are pretty steady on your feet, but you aren't ready to use your full weight with your bad knee just yet.

 

You park the chair next to the sink, pointing at Simon then back to the chair.  He sits down as you instructed while you flip on the light over the sink and raid the drawers for some washrags.

 

You stand behind the chair, unfolding the washcloth and holding it out in front of Ghost's face.  Carefully he tugs his mask off of his face, laying it across his leg before taking the cloth and using it to cover the bottom half of his face.  Once covered you go back around to the sink, warming the water from the tap and soaking the other cloth before going to work on helping him clean off any dried blood that he'd missed.

 

“Like old times, Dove.”

 

“Add it to the list of reminiscing.  Gunshots and head wounds.”

 

Simon chuckles, but it's caught in his throat when you wipe over a more tender area.  The light isn't the greatest but you now see some bruising with the dried blood cleaned off.  “Sorry.  Guess we both got our clocks cleaned pretty good.”

 

“Truck hit us on our side.  We took the brunt of the hit.”

 

“Mm.  How's the prisoner?”

 

“Letting him marinate overnight.”

 

“Didn't hit anything major when I shot him?”

 

“He won't bleed out.”

 

You snirk out a laugh, turning and rinsing out the washcloth before going back to cleaning off more dried blood.  “No stitches this time?”

 

“Sorry to disappoint.”

 

“Yeah it's a real shame, I was hoping we could have hair washing parties between the two of us.”

 

“Didn't want to end up with bows again.”

 

“I only did that onc e.  I'm just sad I wasn't there to see your face when you took your mask off and found them.”

 

He grunts at you as you give his head a once over with the cloth again.  “Thank you, dove.”

 

“No, thank you .  You saved my ass.  Least I can do is clean you up.  Though you know, that nurse who was working on you seemed very into you.”

 

“She was just doin’ her job.”

 

“Aye, but it was more than that.”

 

“Hangin’ around Johnny too much, dove.  You're starting to talk like him.”

 

“Awa’ n’ bile yer heid.”

 

He chuckles again, shaking his head at you.  “Johnny's a terrible influence.”

 

“Oh please, all four of you have corrupted me.  But I'm being serious about that nurse, Ghost.”

 

“And how do you know how she thinks?”

 

“Your mask.  She didn't demand you take it off.  She only pulled it up enough to get to your head wound.  Seemed like she knew how you operated and worked with your terms.”

 

He grunts a little.  As if he's contemplating what you pointed out to him.  You look up and see that Soap is awake and looking around.  He finally pivots and notices the light on and you standing there by the sink.  He pushes the blanket off and stands, stretching a little before making his way over towards you and Simon.  You move to stand behind the chair and block Simon from view so he can put his mask back on.

 

“Stealin’ m'girl away from me, L.T.?”

 

“She made me do it, Johnny.”

 

“I didn't make you do shit.  But you're welcome again, asshole.”

 

Simon stands, pressing his mask covered lips to your forehead in a quick kiss as another thank you, taking the chair and wheeling it back towards the end of the couch he was on, sitting down and propping his feet up to go back to watching the movie.

 

Soap comes closer to you while you lean against the counter for support, eyeing you up and down.  “Ye alrigh’?”

 

“Couldn't sleep.  Simon was awake, so decided to clean him up a little.”

 

“Ye're too good to us, lass.”

 

“Eh, he sorta helped save my life again, least I can do really.”

 

“No’ jus’ tha’.  Lookin’ ou’ for us.  Ye're the injured one, I should be lookin’ ou’ for ye and instead I'm passed ou’.”

 

“Bring back your t's, Johnny.  They miss you.”

 

“Ye know wha t I mean, hen.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

He bites his lip and sighs heavily, wrapping one arm around you and pulling you close before the other arm goes around you as well.  “Wha’ am I gonna do with ye?”

 

“Same thing you always do, Pinky.  Try to take over the– wait, sorry, wrong thing.”

 

He laughs, kissing right next to your stitches.  “Come on.  Let's get ye some rest.”

 

“No promises, Bubbles.”

 

---

 

“You snore, love.”

 

“Johnathon Price I do not want to hear a word out of you about my snoring, sir.”  You were sitting at the table and nibbling on one of the protein bars you found in the cupboard as a poor excuse of a breakfast.  The boys were sitting in the other chairs around you, tea or coffee in hand.  You haven't slept much. Your head still throbs.  You'll take a nap soon enough.

 

“Government named by the Dove feels like your Nan scolding you for nicking a cookie from the jar.”  Simon has his mask flipped up just enough to drink his tea.  He's sitting with his back to the door, since there has been movement from other soldiers on the base and some of them are particularly nosy.  Some have peeked through the window as they walked by.

 

“It's not fair, little miss gets to say shit like that and gets away with it, I say anything close to it and I'm on the floor doing press-ups.”

 

“Hen's a bossy one, tha's for sure.”

 

“Oh bite me, Soap.”

 

Johnny reaches over and grabs your hand, pulling it over towards his face and gives your wrist a nibble.  Price shakes his head while hiding a smile with his coffee mug.  You punch Johnny in the arm.

 

“Oi!  Ye tol’ me to!”  

 

“Since when did you start listening to me?”

 

“Tell me to do things to ye more often and I'll really take to listenin’ to ye.”

 

You roll your eyes at him and go back to your protein bar.  “I can only imagine just how much you like being bossed around.”

 

“He really likes it, Dove.  Even if he says otherwise.”

 

“Please, please tell me when you are out in the field you tell your soldiers ‘Simon says’ over comms.  Or, to someone you've captured.”

 

“Don't give Simon any ideas, love.”

 

“Quite like the sound of it, Dove.”

 

“Way to go, lass.”

 

You laugh and hold up a fist to Simon, who gives you a bump in return.  You grin widely at him.  

 

Price finishes his coffee, slapping his knees and standing.  “We got work to do, lads.  My office in one hour.  Time to start trying to get answers from our friend.”  He heads out the door of the lounge and towards his office, reprimanding someone for dawdling around the lounge.

 

“You boys have… fun doesn't seem the right word to be using here, does it?”  

 

“Might be just a little, miss.”  Gaz stands and takes his cup to the sink, going and grabbing his cot to drag it back to his room.

 

“Take mine for me too, will ya Gaz?”  Ghost calls after him.

 

“Take it yourself, bruv!”

 

“Let me rephrase.  Take my cot back to my quarters.  That's an order.”

 

“Simon, be nice!”

 

“That's an order, Sergeant?”

 

You punch Simon in the arm now as he stands up and gets his own cot and lifts it, carrying it out of the lounge.

 

“See, lass?  A bossy li'l princess ye are.”  Soap moves his chair over to you and grins.  You shake your head at him.  “Not bossy. Now go take your cot back and I'll clean up in here.”

 

He flashes that grin at you, kissing you quickly before going off and doing as he is told.

 

Well… maybe I am a little bossy…

 

Chapter 32: Interrogation

“You up for it, love?”

 

“No.  But also… maybe?  I don't know.”

 

“You can back out if you need to.  Give us a signal.”

 

“On one hand, the fucker had a gun to my head all because of Makarov’s bullshit, and I'd have been dead if it wasn't for all of you.  Being there while he’s interrogated seems right.”

 

You were in Price's office, slowly pacing around the room while he remained seated at his desk, smoking one of his beloved cigars.  Your arms were crossed over your stomach, though one hand was shifted up to your mouth as you nibbled at hang nail while thinking about what he was asking of you.  There was a slight limp to your gait from your knee, but you chose to ignore the discomfort for now.

 

“But?”

 

“But… it's that asshole General of yours.  You know just as much as I do that the prick was behind that stunt with Makarov to begin with, and I'm really not up for doing him any favors.”  

 

You stop pacing for a moment, taking Price's cigar from him and having a puff of it for yourself before handing it back to him.  He carefully takes it back from your hand, staring at you.  You hoped it would help calm your nerves as you go back to walking the length of his office.  “I miss blissful ignorance.  Knowing what you do but not seeing what you guys do.  And I’ve seen and been through a metric fuck ton lately.”

 

“Do you resent us, love?”

 

“What?  No!  No, not at all. ”  

 

There's a quick knock at the door, which immediately opens and Gaz steps through.  “Cap, things are– oh, hey.”

 

“Hey Gazatron.”

 

“You look knackered.  Didn't you say you were going to try to sleep?”  He comes up and gives you a hug, which you return.

 

“Haven't got that far yet…  General Shepherd has… requested… that I sit in on the interrogation of our new friend.”

 

Gaz lets you go, just enough for him to be able to scan you over.  “Oh fuck that.  Cap, she’s not doing that!”

 

“Leaving it up to her, Gaz.”

 

“Miss you are not -”

 

“I haven’t said I was doing anything, Garrick.”

 

“Who’s doin’ what now?”  Ghost walks into the office, not even bothering to knock.

 

“Shepherd wants her at the interrogation.”

 

“The more the merrier.” Ghost grabs a chair and pulls it closer to Price's desk before sitting.  “We might get somethin’ out of him if she's there.”

 

“I would rather avoid watching you use jumper cables on the poor bastard, Si.”

 

“Wrong universe, Dove.  Though it's not a bad idea…”

 

“Interrogation, Simon.  Not torture.”  Price stubs out the last bit of his cigar and sits back in his chair, checking his phone.  From the look on his face, you'd think he's about to throw it across the room.

A few knocks at the door announces Johnny's arrival, who frowns the moment he sees you.  “What're ye doin’ here, hen?”  He shuts the door behind him and walks straight to you, Gaz finding a chair of his own.  Johnny has his hands on your face, looking you over.  “Maybe ye should go to medical, have someone to look in on ye for a while?  Ye're lookin pale.”

 

“You guys really need to stop fussing over me.”

 

“Can't help it, love.  Got me feeling guilty for falling asleep on you as it was and I was to be keeping watch last night.”  Price definitely has a little guilt on his face.

 

“Can't hold it against you too much, daddy-o.  Starting to slip, old man.”

 

Price grunts a disapproval, looking through files on his desk and scratching at the stubble on his unshaven face before looking up at Johnny.  “You wanna tell him?”

 

“Tell me wha’, Captain?”

 

You turn Johnny's face towards you, smiling gently to try to soften the news.  “General Shepherd wants me at the interrogation.”

 

“Un-fucking-believable!  Price, ye're no-” 

 

You clamp your hand over Johnny's mouth and give him a stern look.  “Dude, he said ‘stay calm’.”

 

He growls against your hand before reaching up and taking it away from his mouth.  “No.”

 

“We just voted, Dove.  Shepherd can get fucked.”  Ghost inspects his gloved hands as he speaks, avoiding looking at you.

 

“Ugh not the voting shit again, boys.  Besides, already told Price just as much before you even got here.  General hasn't done us any favors, not about to do any for him.”  

 

“Good on ye, lass.  Now, let’s get you to bed.”  Soap hooks his arm around your waist and leads you off to the door.

 

“I’ll put myself to bed, Bubbles.  You go do… your… thing.”  You tilt up and kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door, heading back to quarters and crawling into the cot to have a nice long nap.

 

 

---

 

Well.

 

You tried to have a nice long nap at least.

 

You did manage to pass out not too long after you crawled in and pulled the covers up over your head.  But you didn’t stay asleep for nearly as long as you wanted to.  After only a couple of hours you groaned yourself awake because of some stupid dream that you don't even remember now.  You check your phone, but there's nothing for messages or missed calls from the boys.  You adjust the brace on your knee, tightening it to keep everything more secure.  Then you toss on the hoodie you stole from Johnny and venture out into base.

 

When you first got there you were supposed to be escorted around.  But being there for as long as you have, you've gained some freedoms and make your way around by yourself.  You stop by the mess hall, but nothing looks nearly as appealing as you had hoped.  You grabbed a bottle of water for now and started wandering again.  At one point you go to the gym and watch the recruits during their training, making note of how many of them have really improved during their time here.

 

Aside from the 141 you don't really socialize with anyone.  You are friendly and kind when you do interact with anyone, but most don't get close to you.  Which makes sense.  They think Johnny is your husband, and he's made it clear that he would just about break anyone that tried anything with you.  And with John, Kyle, and Simon being your personal body guards as it were, most don't even want to get close to you for fear of pissing one of them off.  There's also the rumors of you being some sort of personal bunny for the 141.  You get why the rumor would go around, and in some ways you find it amusing.  Your relationship with the entire 141 is an odd thing.  No one has ever quite understood it.  You even have a hard time understanding it sometimes.  But you don't care.  It's not for anyone to understand but the five of you.

 

You get some looks now and then, but no one approaches you.  You make your way off to the shooting range and watch their target practice.  Again, noting improvement from some of them.  Maybe some day you'll ask one of the boys to let you get some shots in.  You could use the practice.

 

Eventually you leave them and make your way around the base.  After a while your phone blips, so you pull it out of your bra to check it.

 

---

 

💰:  Heard you are wandering about.

 

Me:  Yeah.  Got a little sleep, but too restless.  How's it goin?

 

💰:  No comment.  Sending Gaz your way.  Meet him by the barracks.

 

---

 

You sigh and tuck away your phone, heading back to the barracks to meet Gaz.  He's already there by the time you get there, leaning against a wall and tapping away at his phone.

 

“Heard you couldn't sleep, Miss.”  He looks over at you with a smile before tucking his phone away.

 

“Sleep is for the weak, Garrick.  And man, I wish I was fucking weak right now.”

 

He laughs, putting his phone back into his pocket and putting his arm around your shoulders, leading you in the direction of the other boys.  “Wish I could help.”

 

“Not sure anyone can at the moment.  Need to get my head space figured out.”

 

“What if medical gave you something?”

 

“Sleep aids make me have really fucked up dreams.  Not sure that would exactly be helpful at the moment.”

 

“Think about it at least.”  Gaz stops and pulls out his badge, scanning it and opening a door, motioning you to walk through.  You do so, but wait for him a few steps away.  He takes his hand and places it on your back, walking you forward.

 

“Dare I ask how things have progressed?”

 

“Bruv hasn't given us anything.”

 

“Figured Ghost would have got something by now.”

 

“He's been letting Soap do most of the talking.  For now.”  He scans his badge and walks you into another room.  “You wait in here miss, I'll let Price know you're here, yeah?”

 

“Thanks, Gaz.”  He shuts the door behind him and you turn, getting a better layout of the darkened room he left you in.  It's then you notice you are in some sort of observation room.  Screens showing different angles of the holding cell, laptops on a desk, a one-way mirror to let you see into the cell itself and watch the proceedings.  Sound is being fed in by speakers somewhere in the room, but they have been turned down fairly low so you can’t quite make out what is being said.  You definitely appreciate that for the time being.  

 

Slowly you walk up to the mirror, eyeing Price as he stands off to the side, cigar in his mouth with his arms crossed over his chest.  Ghost and Soap are standing near the prisoner, who is currently handcuffed to the floor, chains wrapped around their ankles.  Bruised and bloodied, compared to the last time you had set eyes on him.  Others are in the room with them, one of them you recognise as Laswell, who is addressing the prisoner.  A couple of others are in the room with them, and these people you don’t recognise.  

 

The door to that room opens, Gaz walking in and speaking to them.  Price sways a little and looks towards the mirror, nodding to it as he takes his cigar from his mouth.  You nod back before you realize he can’t even see you right now.  You sigh and wrap your arms around yourself, eyes darting from person to person, trying to take in the situation.  Soap moves closer to the prisoner after a minute, yelling something indistinct.  Price moves and places a hand on Soap's shoulder, pulling him back and away from the prisoner.  After a seemingly hushed conversation, Price pats him on the shoulder.  Soap walks to the door, pulling it open roughly and slamming it behind him, making the walls shake a little.  Barely a moment later and the door to your room opens, though shuts it much more gently after he sees you.

 

“You've turned into quite the hot head, Bubbles.”

 

“Have to play my part, lass.”  He's walked over to you now, lightly stroking your hair and trying to look you over in the darkness.  “Ye alrigh’, hen?”

 

You shrug before leaning against him, burying your face into his chest and closing your eyes, taking in a deep breath then letting it out slowly.  You move your arms up and wrap them around his waist.  “He hasn't said anything yet, huh?”

 

“No’ yet.”

 

You pull back and look up at him.  “I'm going to have to go in there, you know.”

 

“No ye're not.”

 

You lean against him again, tightening your hold around him.

 

Not going to argue with you, Bubbles.

 

He leans you away from him, smiling down at you.  “Let's get outta here, before someone comes lookin’ for ye.”

 

He takes your hand and leads you out of the room, checking the hallway before walking towards the exit of the building you came through with Gaz earlier.  You are almost to the door before you hear yelling from down the hall.

 

“Johnny, go go go go!”

 

You hold Johnny's hand tighter and run as quickly as your leg will let you, slamming into the door and pushing it open to freedom.

 

Chapter 33: Ours

Notes:

Hectic things in my household has kept me from my happy place. But I finally got back there! Already have most of the next chapter buttoned up, and will roll right into the next after. Missed you guys!

You and Johnny get quite a distance between you and the building with the holding cell before you stop running, the burning in your knee making you stop before you really wanted to.  You both were laughing as you stopped to catch your breath.

 

“Ye're crazy hen, ye know tha’?”

 

“You love me anyway.”

 

“Do I?”  Your hands are still together, which he uses to his advantage to pull you close to him with a grin.

 

Both of your phones start to chime at the same time, so you dig your phone out of your bra to look at what the fuss is about.

 

---

 

💰:  You weren't supposed to run off with my Sergeant, Love.

 

You:  I left you with Gaz!

 

Gazatron:  What the hell, Soap…

 

👻:  Need you for the interrogation, Johnny.

 

🧼:  I'll be back.  Maybe.

 

You:  I need sleep, so I'm taking my emotional support Soap with me.

 

💰:  How much of the proceedings did you see, love?

 

You:  I saw enough.  You aren't getting anything out of him right now.

 

Gazatron:  Laswell is pissed you ran off.  Wants you back here.

 

🧼:  Hold her off for me?

 

You: Tell Laswell to get bent.  Respectively.

 

👻:  Could just order you back here, Johnny.

 

You:  Tell them you ordered him to look after his wife, and tomorrow you can order him to finish the interrogation.

 

💰:  I'll do what I can to hold them off.  Don't be surprised if someone shows up at your door looking for you.

 

You:  Yes, dad.

 

🧼:  Sir.

 

---

 

Soap hooks his arm around your shoulders,  pulling you closer to himself as you put your phone away.  “Emotional support Soap, eh?”

 

“Not exactly a lie.”

 

“Course no’.”  He kisses the side of your head and starts walking you towards the barracks, arm still around you and pulling against his side.

 

“How long do you think it'll take them to come banging down your door?”

 

“Ye mean our door?”

 

“It's your room, Johnny.”

 

“Hasn’ been my room since ye moved here to base, lass.  Been our room.”

 

You stop and look up at him, making him stop with you and look down at you.  “Does that… bother you?  Cause now I got the feeling I've invaded your territory, and I know you said y-”

 

Johnny leans down and kisses you gently, mainly to get you to stop talking.    “Ye're spiralin’, m'girl.  Stop overthinkin’ it.  I want ye right where ye are.  It's ours , hen.  Not gonna kick ye out.”  He wraps his arm around your waist and starts walking with you again.

 

“Sorry… I just…  still feel like such a burden all the time…”

 

“Never.”  He takes you to the room, unlocking the door for the both of you and ushering you in ahead of him, shutting the door and engaging the lock, unbuckling and shrugging off his tac vest.  “Ye're no burden to any of us, lass.”

 

“You say that, but I can't help feeling it.  Especially the last couple of days.  Hell, the last few years, even.”

 

Johnny grabs you and carefully moves you to the chair, setting you down and kneeling down in front of you.  “Ye've never been a burden on us.  No’ to any of us.  Ye were a fuckin’ blessin’ to us when ye came into our lives, and we've all been grateful for it.  The reason ye're even in this predicament is ‘cause of us, remember?”  

 

You reach up and run your fingers over his head, stopping on the scar from when he was shot in the head.  “You didn't cause this, Johnny.  It's… a job hazard.  You couldn't have ever known that a fucking psychopath would come after you or me.”

 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, sitting up enough on his knees so his forehead is against yours, your noses brushing against each other's.  “Just… let me apologize.  I've go’ nothin’ but guilt buildin’ up, and I need to jus’...”

 

You tilt your head back, kissing his forehead lightly before pressing yours back against it again, grabbing his hands and squeezing them.  “Nothing to feel guilty about, Bubbles.”

 

He leans back again, looking up at you pulling on your hands and planting light kisses to the backs of them, eyes not leaving yours.  “Lots to feel guilty for, m'girl.  Like no’ tellin’ ye how I felt sooner.  No’ bein’ there to protect ye.”

 

“Well the first time, you literally took a fucking bullet to the head, so don't even feel guilty about that.  And the second time, I put my own ass in danger to try and lure out Fuck-arov.”

 

That gets a huffed laugh out of him.  “Fuck-arov, eh?”

 

“Yup.  And I'll be Vlad when you kill the piece of shit.”

 

A groan, but there's that fucking grin you were looking for.  “Ye've been hangin’ ‘round Simon too much for jokes like tha’.”

 

“Actually both of those are brand new from my brain just now, but I'll make sure to let him know about them so he can torture you on comms.”

 

“Don’ ye dare encourage him.”

 

“Just giving him more content so you don't have repeats?”  

 

A knock at the door makes you jump, Johnny just squeezes your hands to calm you.

 

“ Johnny?  Dove?”

 

And then, an evil thought…

 

“Take off your shirt, make it inside out.”  You whisper as you take your hands back start pulling off your hoodie, crumpling it and tossing it aside.

 

“Do wha’?”  You grab the bottom half of his shirt and pull it off of him, making it flipped inside out as you take it off.

 

A harsher knock on the door.

 

“ Johnny! ”

 

“Just a minute!”  You pull your own shirt off, tossing it by the hoodie and taking your phone out of your bra before putting Johnny's shirt on, running your fingers through the mohawk and messing it up a little before whispering to Johnny.  “Play along, grab a new shirt and don't put it on until I open the door.”

 

Johnny stands with you, shaking his fingers through your hair to make it look messy before letting you go.  You get over towards the door, fluffing your hair up again and unlocking the door, pulling it open just enough to look at Ghost.

 

“Hey Si, what's up?”

 

Ghost stares at you for a moment, eyes looking you up and down.  He takes in a breath to speak, but is interrupted by Johnny opening the door more, pulling a clean shirt over his head and putting his arms in.  “Simon.”

 

“Johnny.”  Ghost looks a little surprised, but is trying to hide it.  “Laswell wants you back.”

 

“Yeah, sure thing.”  He pretends to look around the room for a few seconds before grabbing his tac vest and putting it on.  You step back from the door so he can leave the room, leaning down and catching your lips quickly.  “I'll try not to be long, hen.”

 

You kiss him back and smile up at him, raking your fingers through his mohawk to try to straighten it out.  “I'll be here.”

 

Johnny steps out of the room, nodding at Simon and walking down the hallway.  Simon watches Soap for a moment before he looks back at you.  “Dove.”

 

“Simon.”

 

Ghost nods again and sets off after Soap, with you shutting the door quickly and locking it, holding back a laugh until you are sure that Simon is far enough away.

---

You made due with the time you had without Johnny.  You changed back into your clothes, went to the mess hall to grab something to eat.  You mostly picked at it and shoved it around on your tray until you felt you sat around long enough and dumped it.  

 

You stopped by medical to get some painkillers.  You tried very hard not to roll your eyes at the nurse when she asks some standard health questions.  You point things out in your chart that were just checked yesterday after the accident.  You get it's standard, but it felt like they were being nosy.  You're the supposed wife of a Sergeant after all.  One nurse gives you some extra packets to take with you so you don't have to go back for a while.

 

You head off to the Officer’s Lounge to procure some snacks to take back to Johnny’s room.  Your room.  You grab a few bottles of water for good measure.  Back to the room, setting everything onto the desk for now.  You decide to clean yourself up and change into pajama shorts, then find one of Johnny's old shirts to sleep in.

 

You turn on the TV, finding one of your favorite shows to watch while you get settled into the desk chair to try to keep yourself awake.  You end up scrunched up in the chair, knees to your chest, back to the arm rest.  It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was fine for the time being.

 

You can stay awake.

 

Easy peasy.

 

---

 

Thank fuck the walk back to the prisoner was a long one.  Sure as shite needed it to calm down after that display.

 

Dunno where it came from, but fuckin’ hell was it a sight though.

 

Didn’ wan’ to think.  Didn’ wanna breathe.

 

Just wanted to enjoy the view, no matter how short.

 

Simon tried to ask me what happened.

 

Just said I thought we had a lot more time.

 

Didn’ elaborate.

 

Plum fuckin’ tired heading back to our room.  

 

Didn’t really get anywhere with that fuckin’ prisoner.  

 

Price was pissed.  Gaz was pissed.  Ghost was pissed.

 

I was pissed.

 

Was hopin’ to get something for ye’re sake, hen.  I wanted at least a little bit of news to give ye when I got back to ye.

 

Was comin’ back to ye empty handed.  

 

I tried to be so quiet when I came back to our room.

 

Didn’ expect ye to be asleep in the chair.

 

How the hell were ye even comfortable like tha’?

 

Took a shower before I tried to wake ye.

 

Didn’t want ye to see me so… out of sorts.

 

Fuckin’ hell, you are a beau'y.

 

My beau'y.

 

---

 

“Hen, hon?”

 

“Hmmmm…”

 

“Wake up, swee'hear’.”

 

“Hm?”  You open your eyes and look around, eyes falling on Johnny.  “Hey, handsome.”  You yawn out as you slowly start unfurling yourself, stretching out all the stiff muscles and cramps from your very odd sleeping position, then try rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

 

“Let's get ye to bed, yeah?” He hooks one arm under your legs while wrapping the other around your back, lifting you up out of the chair.  You wrap your arms around his neck, now noticing he doesn't have a shirt on and his hair is wet.  

 

He takes you over to the cot, setting you down gently.  He then shuts off some lights before crawling in next to you.  You are already turned onto your side to face him, lightly pushing strands of his mohawk off of his forehead after he settles in.  He hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you tighter against him, kissing you tenderly.

 

You return his kiss, reaching up and tiredly running your fingers through the mohawk, smoothing it out.  “You look exhausted, Bubbles.”

 

He gives you a little shrug, leaning in again and lightly nudging his nose against yours.  “Not so much.”

 

“Mhm, very much.  You get this look in your eye when you are just about dead on your feet.”

 

“Ye need to no’ worry abou’ me so much.”

 

“I worry as I please… for example, where is your shirt?”

 

“Looks like ye're wearin’’ it for me.  And ye were the one tha’ got knocked around.”

 

“Better than being knocked up.”

 

The look he gives you makes you burst out laughing.  “Ye hit ye're head harder than I though’, princess.”

 

“Really?  Ya think?”

 

“Ye don’ have to be a smar'arse abou’ it.”

 

“Sorry.  I'll blame the stupid headache.”

 

He leans away from you, looking your face over with a worried look.  “How long?”

 

You shrug.  “Went to medical earlier, they gave me some pain meds and stuff.  There's extra on the desk, I just zonked before I could take more.

 

He releases you, rolling out of bed quick to grab them, bringing a water bottle with him and sitting down next to you.  You sit up in bed, grabbing the water bottle and cracking it open while he gets the pills opened.  He holds them out, which you take and pop into your mouth before taking a swig from the bottle, tossing your head back and swallowing to get the down.  You then drain about half the water bottle.  Before you can put the cap back on, Johnny takes it from you, drinking the rest and tossing the empty bottle into the trash, lightly running his fingers over your cheek.  “Tha's my good girl.”

 

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring whatever little flutter that caused while you lay back down.  He pulls the blanket up over both of you before pulling you back to him, which you lean in closer and give him a soft kiss, which he happily returns.  “I'm gonna just apologize for the Simon stunt.  I just thought it was funny, I didn't mean to make things hard on you.”

 

“Things were definitely hard for a wee bit.”  

 

Oh god, that grin.

 

He laughs, kissing you again.  “Need to get some rest, beau'iful.”

 

“I had a good enough nap.”

 

“Ye're not making this easy on me, hen.  Ye're recovering.  I'm absolutely knackered.  We have lots of time, we'll figure things ou’ between us.  For now?  Sleep.”

 

“Johnny being the reasonable one?  You feeling ok?”

 

“Perfect.”  He wraps his arms around you a little tighter, kissing your forehead and snuggling in against you.  You settle in against him, moving down just a little and resting against his chest.  Between his warmth and calm demeanor, you fall back to sleep in no time.

 

Chapter 34: Spar

Notes:

I appreciate every single one of you that have read this, keep coming back, leave kudos and wish you could leave more, the comments... all of it. It makes my heart happy.

I read every single one of your comments, even if I don't say anything back. All of them are appreciated!

It's been a little over a week since the accident.  Your knee was healed, stitches out of your head.  You still had headaches, but not as bad as they were the first few days.  You've kept it from Johnny for the time being, not wanting him to worry too much about you.  He had enough to deal with.

“Give him hell, love.”

“Ye hurt my wife Ghost , and ye'll need to have my foot surgically removed from your arse!

“Stop distracting her, Soap.”

Currently, you were sparring with Ghost.  It was late in the morning, the place was fairly packed. Some were watching, others were pretending they weren't, but definitely were.  The 141 sparring with anyone is usually entertaining.  Sparring with the supposed wife of a Sergeant?  Even more so.  Besides, you did say you were going to kick his ass.

You were losing steam, breathing heavy,  sweating.  You and Ghost have been going at it for a while now, and there's been a lot of back and forth.  Mostly back, since you had been flattened on the mat a few times by Simon.  Each time he has told you what you did wrong, giving you pointers on how to improve.

“Give me all you got, Dove.”  Ghost has been stalking you the last couple of minutes.  Trying to anticipate your next move, as you try to figure out his.  You’ve been trying to find a way to take him down.  He felt like he was built like a brick wall.

“That's what I've been doing this whole time, Ghost!”

“You call that your all?”

You go for Ghost’s knee, trying to get his leg out from under him.  He goes halfway down, only for a moment.  You try to then jump on his back to take him all the way down.  He stands and grabs your arms, holding you in place and mocking you with a piggy back ride.

“Next time we should try more hand to hand combat.”

“Next time?”  You get your arms free and fall to the mat, catching yourself in a half stumble and getting away.  

“Training will do you some good, dove.  Would like to get you in rotation with the recruits that'd be more your level.”

You wave him off to catch your breath for a minute, bending down and placing your hands on your thighs.  You look over at the rest of the boys.  Price stepped away and is on his phone, having what seems to be a somewhat heated conversation.  He did not look pleased.  Looking back over at Simon, he's watching Price.

You break out into a quick run, going right for Ghost, spearing your shoulder right into his gut.  With an ‘oof’ he falls back, landing on his ass.

“Finally!”  You cheer for a brief moment, then grab at the stitch in your side, breathing heavy.

Ghost hops up off the mat, coming over to you.  “You alright?”

You nod, and Johnny is suddenly at your side, lifting you into a hug and kissing your face.  “Johnny!  I'm all gross and sweaty!”

He puts you back down and kisses your cheek.  “Through sickness and health, and through gross and sweaty, m’girl.”

You roll your eyes at him, using the sleeve of your shirt to wipe some of the sweat off your face.  

“Now she's wipin’ off your kisses bruv, need to get your little miss back in check, show her who the boss is.”  Gaz lays his arm across your shoulders and leans in, kissing your other cheek.

“Ewwwww, Gaz germs!”  You wipe off the cheek he kissed, grabbing his hat off of him and holding it above your head.  Which doesn’t really do anything, since he is definitely taller than you.  Simon helps you out and takes the hat, holding it above his head for you.  You laugh as Gaz now has to get the hat from Ghost.

Price comes back over, smile on his face.  You can tell it's a fake one, though.  “You’re improving, love.  Proud of you.”

“Thanks, Da… Price.”  Best not to use your nickname for him in front of the other recruits and soldiers.  

“Uh, love, could you please excuse us?  Have to talk to the lads.”

“Yeah, sure.  Meet you all for lunch in… half an hour?”  You hold up a hand to Ghost, which he high fives before you go on your way back to the room.

---

“ Hen ?”

“In the bathroom, almost done”  You are finishing up after your shower, standing in just your bra and underwear with your hair wrapped up in a towel and putting on lotion.  “Everything ok?”

“ Yeah!  Things are good.  Really good .”  Johnny stands just outside the bathroom door to keep talking.

“What’s up with Price?”

“ Laswell’s bustin’ his bollocks abou’ tha’ prisoner.  Bastard hasn’ given us anythin’ .”

“Well, you know he won’t.  He doesn’t have much of a reason to.”

“ Stubborn fuck .”

“You wouldn’t talk either, Bubbles.”  You unravel the towel from your head, bending over and using it to scrunch over your hair to get more of the water out.  “I'd like to think I'd be able to withstand some torture.”

“Steamin’ Jesus…”

“What’s wro- Oh shit…”  You’d pulled the towel off of your head and stood up, noticing now that the door is swung open.  You quickly use the towel to cover yourself, letting it drape from your chest down over your stomach, your face turning beet red.

Stupid door… must not have shut it tight enough.  Oh god.

Besides that tiniest little bit of a bra flash you gave him a week ago, and whatever he saw in your bedroom that night after the bar so long ago, this is probably the most skin he's seen of you.  Mostly because you've dealt with some not so great comments about your body over the years, and were pretty self conscious.  Even with your ex, but they were the brunt of those comments.  Only reason you saw Johnny almost completely naked is when he was injured all that time ago and you helped him bathe, or he walked around in shorts.

You've frozen in place, still holding the towel.  “Sorry, the stupid… I'll be done in a minute, yeah?”  You go to shut the door, but Johnny puts his hand on it to stop you, his eyes drinking in every bit of you that he can.  You notice those eyes have stopped and are staring at your waist.  “Is tha’ where…?”

You look down to try to see what he sees.

Oh… the gunshot… he's never really seen it. 

“Well I've only been shot the one time, Soap.” You offer, trying to make him laugh.

He pushes himself into the bathroom, kneeling down beside you, moving the towel so he can get a better look at it.  He then starts to run his calloused fingers ever so gently over it.  “I shoulda been there…”

You reach down and grab his chin with one hand while still holding the towel with the other, carefully tilting his head up to look at you.  “You were shot in the head, babes.  You literally couldn’t be there, no matter how bad you wanted to.  I would never hold that against you, Johnny.”

He moves his head out of your hand, your breath hitching as he leans in and plants a few light kisses along the scar before he finally gets off of his knees, standing up and towering over you.  He tilts your head up now while pressing you against the wall.  “I’ll still apologize for it til the end times, bonnie.”  

He grabs your hands, making you drop the towel so he can bring them up and wrap them around his neck before his own hands move to your hips and squeeze, lightly rubbing his thumbs just above the waistband of your panties.  

You try to just look into those ocean blue eyes of his and not focus on being half naked in his arms.  “We both got lucky, Bubbles.  Should have bought a few lottery tickets after that.”

“Didn’ need to.  Won the lottery when I got back to ye and ye woke up for me.”

You feel your face getting warmer, knowing you are turning bright red you try to hide your face against your arm.  He stops you, lightly grabbing your chin again and tilts your face back to his.  “Nuh uh.  Keep them eyes on me, pret’y girl.”  Johnny leans in and starts kissing you gently.  When you kiss him back, he shifts himself forward to press into you, starting to kiss you more deeply.

Your eyes fall shut, opening your mouth with a quiet moan, allowing his tongue entrance after he lightly ran it over your lips.  You swear he growls as his hands grip tightly at your hips for just a moment before sliding up and down, coaxing more sounds out of you, fingers almost digging bruises into your sides.  Far too soon he’s pulling away, resting his forehead against yours as you open your eyes to look back into his, breathing a little heavier.

“If that's how you apologize for things you can't control, almost can't wait for an apology for something you can.”

He chuckles, tilting and leaning back far enough to look down at you.  “Can’ help it, lass.  Ye're just too fuckin’ beau'iful to resist.”

“You know, you already have me.  You don't have to lie to me like that.”

“Gonna have to teach ye abou’ me bein’ serious with ye.”  He tilts and starts kissing over your cheek and down your neck, sucking gently as he makes his way towards your collarbone.

“Looking forward to lessons already.”

He huffs out a laugh into your skin before pulling back, winking at you.  “I'm a very good teacher, hen."  He pats you on the ass before stepping out of the bathroom.  "As much as I hate to see it, ye should probably ge’ dressed.”  , Johnny pulls up the desk chair, sitting in it while holding the bathroom door open with his foot.  “Don’ mind me, princess.  Just enjoying the view.”

---

You and Johnny show up later than the guys, meeting them at your usual table and sitting in the corner as you usually do, Johnny taking the seat next to you and scooting closer to you.

Protective Soap Mode Activated.

“What's the occasion?  Food actually looks edible today.”  You quip, though hesitate before taking a bite of anything.

“Actually is edible today.  Maybe they got a better food budget.”  Gaz says between mouthfuls.

“Deployments most like.  Fatten you up before sending you off to hell.”  Simon has his plain black balaclava on, flipped up just enough to show off his mouth and chin so he can eat.  You try not to stare, but it's such a rare sight of Ghost that you always have to look for a moment taking in his features.

“Pigs before the slaughter…  sounds depressing as fuck.”  You say disappointedly.

“Sounds abou’ righ’.”  Soap has started shoveling food down like the starving man he always is.  “If they knew any better, they'd get our hen in the kitchen.  Really fatten everyone up and make it edible all the time.”

“Can't give the military our best kept secret, now can we Soap?”  Price looks over at you and smiles, even offering a wink at you, and you smile back warmly.

“You boys deploy all the time and never get the star treatment, though.”

“We used to, hen.”

“Why'd it stop?”

“Someone set our bloody house on fire.” Simon has his eyes on you, eyes glancing down at your side a moment before going back to yours.

“...Sorry I even brought it up.”  You finally stab at the food with your fork and take a bite to shut yourself up.

“We'll have it again some day.”  Gaz reaches over and places a hand on yours.  You flip your hand to grab onto his and give it a squeeze.  “Soon.  We'll get our little miss back where she belongs.”

“Might need some help getting there.”  Price clears his throat, grabbing for his mug of tea and taking a long drink, looking at something on his phone.

You stab at some more food and shove it down.  It is surprisingly good.  “Well getting your hands on a certain someone would help.”

“Gotta know where he might be for that to happen.”  Simon has his own tea mug in hand, holding it up to his face.  Staring at you again.  You tilt your head and look back at him.

“If someone would bloody talk, that would be helpful.”  Gaz is shoving the rest of his food in his mouth, glancing over at you. 

“Need to pretty yourself up for him, boys.  Little bit of makeup, fancy balaclava for Ghost.  Could maybe glue some rhinestones to one in the shape of a skull?”  You smile at Ghost, who does not look the least bit impressed.  “Hey, I’m trying to give you ideas.”

“There's… possibly another idea, love.”  Price shifts in his seat, looking very uncomfortable.  They all look a little uncomfortable.

You turn your head to Price, frowning at him.  “What’s that?”

Johnny grabs your hand and squeezes it, looking very guilty.  “I mean’ to tell ye back in our room and everythin’, I swear hen.”  

“Tell me what?”  You look between Soap and Price, who seems very enamored by his phone right now, glancing at you for a second before looking away.  “What’s going on?”

“Not here.  My office after you are done eating, love.” Price says as he shoves his phone into one of his pockets

You reach out and push your tray away from you.  Price sighs heavily.  “You needn't be so stubborn, love.”

“Sure I do, Price.  It's kept me alive for this long.”

“She's got ye there, Cap.”

Price scratches at the side of his face, already starting to grow back stubble despite having shaved this morning.  Ghost pulls down his balaclava to cover his face again. Soap and Gaz stab at the food left on your tray to claim what they can for themselves before cleaning up the table.

Price stands with a grunt.  “Alright, lads.  Lass.  My office.  On me.”  

Chapter 35: Cooperation

The five of you make it up to Price's office, Johnny having his arm around you and lightly rubbing your side.  After Price unlocks his door, he leads everyone in.  You take the seat directly in front of Price’s desk, leaning back and crossing your legs, watching the man himself move throughout his office.

 

Price sighs heavily when he sits down behind his desk, opening drawers to look for something.

 

“You said you were going to talk to her about this, Johnny.”  Simon takes a chair next to you, crossing his arms and bouncing his leg.

 

“I was, and then I… go’ distracted.”  Johnny pulls his chair up next to yours.

 

“By what?” Gaz pulls a chair from the corner and sits behind you.

 

“Me.”  You offer, tilting your head and looking at Simon, who is staring at you now.  “I was getting out of the shower by the time he got back, so he obviously forgot by the time I was dressed and ready to meet up with you guys.”

 

“Hmmph.”  Simon looks away from you, and you shift in your chair.  Considering your little stunt with Johnny's shirt last week, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

 

You look back at Price as he lights a cigar, taking a few puffs from it before leaning back, eyes on you again.  “I should have been a part of that conversation right from the start instead of being told to fuck off.”

 

“I didn’t tell you to ‘fuck off’, love.”  

 

“Not explicitly.”  You say as Johnny leans over and grabs your hand, running his thumb lightly across your fingers.  “Sure as shit feels like it now.”

 

“Johnny was supposed to fill you in, Dove.”  Simon pipes up from beside you.  

 

“Or, ya know, don’t rely on a game of telephone and just tell me directly instead of using Johnny as the messenger.”

 

“We figured… we thought…” Gaz struggles to come up with whatever explanation he was trying to give.  Or excuse.

 

“We're just trying to protect you, love.”  Price watches you now.

 

“ Stop treating me like I'm some delicate flower.  So what, I might have a reaction to shit, but that doesn't mean you treat me with kid gloves and walk on eggshells around me all the time.  And again, you all said I didn't have to go in there.  What's changed?”

 

“He’s not saying anything of value to us, love.  None of us.  And the longer this goes on, Makarov will keep slipping right out of our grasp.”  Price releases a huge plume of smoke as he speaks to you.

 

“So… I'm supposed to do what, exactly?  Cause none of this makes any fucking sense.”

 

“What’s confusing you?  Maybe we can explain things and help you understand better.”  Gaz speaks up from behind you.

 

You let go of Soap’s hand, uncrossing your legs and leaning forward in the chair.  “You expect me to believe that the military, across several nations or countries or whatever, are so fucking desperate to try to find Makarov, that they are willing to go against protocols, laws, common sense, and I’m just guessing here, but also go against the Geneva fucking Convention, and let a civilian, the fake wife of a fake dead Sergeant, talk to a prisoner to try to pry information out of them about their boss, who happens to be a known terrorist?”

 

“Sounds to me like you understand things just fine, Dove.”  Simon adjusts himself in his chair.

 

You move your elbows on your thighs, placing your face into your hands and sighing heavily, rubbing your throbbing temples for a minute.  Johnny reaches over, lightly rubbing your back.  Even Simon places a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  You lift your head, looking right at Price.  “I don’t have a choice anymore.”  Definitely not a question.

 

“You do, love.  It’s still up to you.”

 

“If it was still up to me, then you wouldn’t be asking me to do it now.”  You shrug off both Soap and Ghost and stand up, walking away and start pacing around the room.  “Don’t bullshit me, John.”

 

“Alright.  It has been… heavily requested … that your cooperation would be a great asset to the military.” Price says as he leans back in his chair.

 

“Who requested?”  You cross your arms over yourself.

 

“Laswell, love.”

 

“What did Shepherd have to say?”

 

“He suggested I find a way to make you do this.”

 

“Course.  Cause he's a fucking idiot.”  You bring your hand up and bite at your thumb a little.”  What do you think?”

 

“I’m behind whatever you want to do.”

 

“Is that what you really think?”

 

“I really think that you are strong enough to do it.”

 

“Ye won’ be in there alone or anythin’, hen.  Me ‘nd Ghost’ll be in there with ye.  Swear on it.”

 

You let out a heavy breath, placing your hands on top of your head, elbows winged out.  Tapping your fingers over your scalp.  “I can’t make any promises.”

 

“We know, Dove.  We don't expect you to get any more out of him than we have at this point.  It just doesn't hurt anything to try.”  

 

Your arms drop, hands on your hips and going to the window of Price’s office, looking outside for a moment.  “I… need get some air.”

 

Johnny stands up, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours.  “We can do tha’, hen.  Give ye some air, clear ye head.”  

 

You lean into him, closing your eyes and bringing a hand up to his arm as he holds you, squeezing it while he tilts down and plants a kiss on your temple.  He turns the both of you and starts directing you towards the door, arms still around you.  You open the door and lead the way out of it, 

---

When you finally make it outside, you lean against the building for a minute, head back and eyes closed, taking in a very slow breath before letting it out just as slow.  When you open your eyes you push yourself up and start walking, getting quite a distance away from the buildings and other people before you slow down.  Soap falls in at your side, matching your slow strides.  

 

You keep your eyes down, watching the ground as you walk.  “Give it to me straight, Johnny.  What am I about to walk into?”

 

“A righ’ shitshow.”  Johnny reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it gently.

 

You nod.  “What sort of… for lack of a better term, luxuries… amenities?  …has he been allowed?”

 

“Sure as shite ain’t gettin’ the star treatment, hen.”

 

“I figured that much, but I mean like meals, a cell, showers?”

 

“Basic stuff.  He's got a cell.  He eats.  Don’ know abou’ a shower.”

 

“Not that I want to show any compassion to him at all, cause I know the same would never be done for you or me or anyone else… maybe start getting him a tray from the mess hall.  Offer him a shower.”

 

“He had a gun aimed at ye're fuckin’ head, its the last thing he deserves.”

 

“Trust me, I wish I shot him in the head.”

 

“Us too, hen.  Kinda curious abou’ tha’, actually.  Can… can I ask why ye didn't?”

 

“I guess I figured we'd need someone to bring back with us to try to get Makarov's location.  Incapacitated was better than dead.”

 

Johnny nods.  “Tha's my girl.”

 

You stop in your tracks, squeezing Soap’s hand tighter.  “What happened with the phone?”

 

“The wha’?”

 

“That phone, the one that Makarov was streamed on or… video called, or whatever the fuck he was doing?”

 

“Intel is still trying to extract information off of it.  Once it was turned back on, it was wiped.”  

 

“Of course, because, hey, why the fuck not, not like a lot of things go well for any of us.”  You start walking again, letting go of Johnny’s hand to bring your hands up and roll your fingers over your temples.  The headache that started a while ago was really starting to throb.

 

“Since the both of you are going to be in the room with me, I’m going to need to ask you to not say anything.  You or Ghost.”

 

“I’m no’ gonna le’ him disrespect ye.”

 

“I really, really need you to just… let me do the talking.  Without interrupting me.  Before I walk in the room, you tell him the terms.  Whatever it is you don’t want him to do or… whatever, I don’t care, you get it out of your system before I walk in there.  Because if I get him to say something, I don’t want anyone interrupting.  Price, Laswell, Gaz, whoever the fuck ever else thinks they will be there.”

 

“Li'l lass makin’ demands now? Ye takin’ a page ou’ of our book?”

 

“If it keeps any of us from being killed?  Yup.  Give me the 141 playbook.”

 

“Anything else for demands?”  Soap nudges you.  You don’t have it in you to look at him right now.

 

“Vodka.”

 

“You drink tha’ stuff, hen?”

 

“Might need to by the time I'm done.  It's something to try anyway.  Stereotypes be damned, a little alcohol might loosen them lips of his.  And, I'm sorry, but whatever you have been doing so far doesn’t seem to be working.  No offense, Bubbles.”

 

“None taken.”

 

You stop, bringing your hands up to your face, running your hands from your chin, over your eyes, and through your hair, lacing your fingers together at the back of your head and breathing out a heavy sigh.

 

Johnny hooks his arm around your waist, making you stop and drop your arms before he turns you to him, looking down at you with those big blue eyes of his.  Looking so concerned.

 

“A week ago, ye were tellin’ me ye were gonna have to go in there.”

 

“This week, I’ve lost my nerve.  What the hell was I even thinking…”

 

“Ye were thinkin’ ye were gonna be helpful, lass.  And we were all thinkin’ abou’ protectin’ ye.  Ye're always thinkin’ of us, but ye've got to remember tha’ we're always, always thinkin’ of ye.  We're tryin’ to do righ’ by ye. ”  

 

You bury your head against his chest, taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.  “I know you have been.  All of you have.  I just get frustrated.  My reaction is my reaction, and I can't help it.  Doesn't mean I want anything hidden for me just because you think it's for my own good.  Yeah, I might have a little freak out, but I'd rather freak out and get it over with than be coddled and have things kept from me.”

 

His hand comes up, gently holding the back of your head, his head tilting and kissing the top of it.  “I'll be righ’ there with ye.  Nothin's gonna happen to ye.”

 

“I know.”

 

He brings both hands to your head, leaning you away from his chest, both hands moving to your face and holding it softly.  Calloused thumbs wiping away the tears from your cheeks that you didn't even realize were there.

 

“We all love our li'l bird.  Whether ye like it or no’.  Even Simon, the bawbag tha’ he is.”

 

The corner of your lip lifts up the smallest amount in a half assed attempt at a smile, but Soap catches it.  “Tha's m'girl.”  He moves your arm to wrap around his waist, then hooks his arm around your shoulders, starting to make a loop around to head back inside.

 

“When do I have to do this?”

 

“Whenever ye want, princess.”

 

Your stomach feels very sour, almost like it's doing flips inside of you.  “Feel like I might throw up before all of this is over.”

 

“I'll hold ye're hair back for ye.”

 

“Hah!   What a gentleman, always knew I could count on you.”  You laugh out.  

 

“I'll hold wha'ever ye let me.”

 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.  Ugh.  Ok… after dinner time tonight.  We’ll grab a tray from the mess hall, and take it over to him.  I honestly don’t think I can do much with this asshole.  If he isn't talking to you, why the fuck would he ever talk to me?”

 

“Ye can say ye tried.  If it doesn’ work, it doesn’ work.”

 

“But we’re running out of time, Johnny.”

 

“Wha’ever happens, happens.  Ye’ll do ye’re best.  Ye’ll try wha’ ye can.  Ye’re no’ gonna fail, no mat’er wha’ happens.”

 

“Can I also demand that when I leave, you have to come with me?”

 

“Ye can sure try, hen.  Won’ hear any complain’ from my end, princess.”  He lightly rubs your bicep, arm still wrapped around you.  “Laswell may show ye some mercy.  Shepherd…”

 

“Shepherd can suck my dick.”

 

Johnny bellows out a laugh.  “I’d love to get ye on video tellin’ him that, m’girl.”

 

“Tell Simon, he can record it for all of us.”

 

“Let’s get ye back to Price.  Tell him the plan.  He can talk to Laswell.  Ye go’ this, bonnie.”

Chapter 36: Prisoner

Notes:

Prisoner name completely made up by me. Was going to go with Makarov's second in command, then realized that was dumb cause they would have known who he was. So meet our Prisoner.

You were back in the mess hall, in your normal chair in the corner, pushed away from the table.  Both feet up on the chair, knees up to your chest, arms wrapped around them.  Trying not to look at any of the 141 at the moment.  The boys were all in their seats and eating.  You have been chastised a few times with each of them, trying to encourage you to have something in your stomach.  But you weren't hungry.  You couldn't eat.  Not yet.

 

Simon finishes before the rest of them, tucking his balaclava back under his chin before he stands with his tray, glancing at you before walking away.

 

You kept telling yourself that they were used to this.  This was just the status quo for them.  Nothing about any of this was exactly out of the ordinary for them.  Many years of practice.  Their time of doubt in what they were doing was long gone.  If they could do it, you should be able to as well.  

Gaz pushes his tray towards you.  “Eat just a bite of something.  Please?  For me?”

 

“Let her alone, Garrick.”  Simon is staring him down, having come back to the table, standing beside you now and holding a mug out in front of you.  You graciously take the mug from him, immediately basking in it’s warmth.  Peeking inside, you see that Ghost has brought you a tea.

 

Gaz pulls his tray back towards himself, going back to eating.  He’s not very happy about it though.

 

You look over at Simon and nod at him as he takes his seat once more.   He nods back at you.  A ‘thank you’ from you, and a ‘you’re welcome’ from him.  Now you stare at your mug, watching as the tea bag left behind tendrils of its contents throughout the water as steeped, taking hold of the string and swirling it around the mug.

 

Price sets his phone down, looking at you for the first time apparently as he picks up his fork.  “Not eating, love?”

 

You drop the tea bag string and drop your face into your hand with a groan.  “Turn up your hearing aid, Captain.”

 

“Don’t got one.   What I miss?”

 

“Just Gaz planning an orgy for his birthday.”  Price chokes on his food, Simon smacking him on the back as he coughs.  

 

“More information than was needed, love.”

 

“Hearing aid, old man.  Get one.”  You smile as you finally bring your mug up and try the tea.  Not bad.  As per Simon's usual.

 

“Can you not give Cap a heart attack?”  Gaz is trying his best not to smile at you, but there's a slight smirk on his face.

 

“What'd I do?  You're the one planning an orgy.”

 

Gaz takes his hat off and whacks you in the leg with it before putting it back on.  You let out a small laugh.  Price shakes his head at the both of you.  You stick your tongue out at Gaz before taking another drink.  It's sorta calming in a way.

 

Johnny sets his fork down and scoots his chair closer to you, placing his arms around your shoulders while resting his forehead against the side of your head.  Speaking to you in almost a whisper, right next to your ear.  “Are ye ready for this?”  You pause for a moment, a shiver trailing up your spine, eyeing everyone else at the table before slowly nodding.  He tilts and kisses your temple before leaning back, arm still around you while you gulp at your tea.  “She’s ready, lads.”

 

“Let's get this over with.”  You drain the rest of your mug, dropping your feet to the floor.

 

---

The five of you head to the cells where the prisoner was being kept.  You were told he would be in the same room you first saw him.  Chained down so he couldn't get near you.  You adjust the tray of food in your arms that you grabbed before you left.  It was different from the usual plastic trays used in the mess hall.  This one was made from some sort of cardboard.  Couldn't be broken and used as a weapon.  Also wouldn't hurt as much if it were to be used as a projectile.  

 

Unfortunately, the smell was making you feel nauseous.  You tried some different breathing techniques to quell the bile riding in your throat.  Trying not to be too obvious about it.

 

“Want to know who'll be observing?” Gaz asks you gently.  Testing the waters it would seem.

 

“No.  I don't want to know anything or anyone, otherwise I will lose all my nerve.”

 

Ghost scans his badge and opens the door for all of you, Price leading the way in, Gaz, You, Johnny, and Ghost taking up the end.  Price gives you a pat on the shoulder, Gaz a quick peck on your cheek, and they both go into the observation room.  

 

Ghost walks around you and stops next to the door to the interrogation room while Johnny moves in front of you, placing his one hand on your shoulder and using his other hand to tilt your chin up to look at him.  “We'll be righ’ there with ye.  Ye don’ have to say nothin’ if’n ye don’ wan’.  There's a chair ye can sit in when ye get in there.  When ye're ready to leave, jus’ lift up ye're shirt and flash me, aye?”

 

You almost nod your head until it finally registers what he said, tilting your head down and looking up at him through your brows.  Trying to act like you are completely unimpressed by his little joke.  A tiny smile quivering at the corner of your mouth.

 

He has to give you that fucking grin of his.  “Can’ blame a man for tryin, eh?”

 

You dramatically roll your eyes so hard at him you swear you see the back of your skull.  Johnny leans in and kisses you softly.  “Jus’ stand and walk to the door, and I'll get ye out of there.”

 

You grip the tray tighter when Johnny turns and goes next to Ghost, both of them putting hands on their side arms.  You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

 

Ghost takes the tray from you before he opens the door, entering first.  Johnny waits for you to get closer, letting you go ahead of him so he follows you in and closes the door.  If you had any less resolve, you feel like you could pass out.

 

Ghost slams the tray down in front of the prisoner.  “Someone's come to see you.  Luckily she has more of a heart than anyone else in this whole bloody facility.”

 

You watch as the prisoner turns his attention towards you, sitting up straighter in the chair.  You place your hands behind your back and clasp them together trying to get them to stop shaking.

 

Johnny gestures towards the chair opposite them, pulling it out for you and guiding you to sit down.  You look up at Johnny and nod, watching as he walks off and takes his place next to Ghost before finally settling your eyes on the prisoner, looking him over.  Getting a better look at him, since you weren't paying all that much attention when he had a gun in your face.

 

Both hands were cuffed to the table, which was bolted to the floor so the prisoner couldn't try to flip it over.  His face had quite a few cuts and many bruises, some healing, some fresh.  You could see a bandage peeking out from under his sleeve.  Right where you had shot him.  He has some room to move his hands, so at least he can feed himself.

 

He's staring right at you, taking in your face for much longer than you care for.  But you sit there silently.  Wondering what was going on in that head of his.

 

When he finally looked away, it was to examine the tray before him.  He picked it up and sniffed at it before setting it back down, flipping the food over to look underneath.  He finally looked back at you, tilting his head.  “Is safe to eat?”

 

You quickly reach over and take a piece of whatever is closest to you off of his tray, shoving it in your mouth and barely chewing before you swallow. 

 

Can't be poison if I'm willing to eat it, right?

 

After watching you eat straight from the tray, he starts digging in with his hands since you didn't dare give him any silverware.  You never were told what exactly they were feeding him.  Though by the way he is eating, it can't be much.  

 

In between mouthfuls, he's watching you.  Studying you, as if trying to figure you out.  “I hold gun to your head, and you bring food?”

 

You nod.  Not yet talking.  Seeing how far it will take you.

 

“Stupid woman.  You would never get this treatment from us.”

 

You nod again, pressing your lips together and giving a slight shrug.  Of course you knew that.

 

“When I get out of here, y-”

 

You snort.  And regret it immediately.  His eyes narrow, then he frowns at you. “What is funny?”

 

You bite down hard on your lip.  You stay quiet for a few minutes, with him trying to stare a hole through you.  Looking away from him.  

 

Until you can't hold it in anymore.  “No one is coming for you.”

 

He laughs, shaking his head.  “You are foolishly to think they will leave me here to rot.”  He busies himself with trying other things on his food tray.

 

“I really don't think I am.”  You lean back in your chair, bringing your right leg over your left when you cross them.  “Look… Uh… sorry, what's your name?”

 

“Viktor Eristov.”  He freezes, fists clenching tightly and knuckles going white.  He realizes he fucked up.  Distracted by the food, perhaps.  He mutters something in Russian, not looking at you.

 

“Great.  Vik.  I've been here for months.  Recovering from being shot.  And mourning the death of my husband.  And I thought was ready, I was going to try to pick my life up.  The day I left here?  That's when your boss decides to come after me?”

 

“He was informed that you went off base.  You had house.”

 

“Right, informed.  By who?”

 

Viktor’s face hardens.  He won’t be making the same mistake.  Not yet.

 

“Makarov couldn't get near me for as long as I was here.  Then a whisper from the shadows, and… there you were?  I'd love to know how the hell he knew I even left this facility, Vikky.”

 

“ Viktor .”  He glances up at you, then back down at the food, shoving more into his mouth.  Viktor then leans back in his own chair now to look at you.  “Why are you here even?”

 

“Same reason as you.  As long as we’re here at this facility, Makarov can’t touch us.  He’s too much of a coward to show up.”

 

“He is not coward!”  He slams his fist on the table.  Somehow you don't flinch.  You don't make a sound.  Johnny almost leaps towards you, but Simon holds him back.  You just slowly blink at Viktor as he watches you for some sort of reaction.

 

“Were you there when Makarov came after me the first time?  I swear I would have remembered your face better if you were…”

 

“Was not part of operation yet.”

 

“Hmm… that makes more sense.  Well.  The first time, Makarov personally came to my home.  Held a gun to my head.  Had me tied me up, and then tried to take me away.  But the 141 showed up.  Makarov managed to shoot me.  Hopefully I broke his nose before that.  But he didn't even know I survived because he ran away before making sure I was dead.”

 

He's glaring at you again.  Your stomach is in fucking knots right now, and you don't know how or why he is even saying anything to you.  “And then this time, he sent a bunch of his men after me… instead of doing it himself?  I mean, I don’t know what he has against me.  I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.  But he sends you.  And others.  Because he was too much a coward to come after me himself and make sure he actually finished the job this time.”

 

Viktor’s breathing becomes heavier.  Faster in a way.  

 

“Did you know about Makarov shooting my husband?”

 

Viktor lets out a hardy laugh, slapping the table.  “Right in fucking head!  Brain all over!”

 

You shake your head at him, watching as whatever joy he just felt is erased from his face.  “So your boss is coward and a liar.  Because the great Makarov ran away, tail between his legs.  Without.  Confirming.  The kill.”

 

He tilts his head, watching your face for any expression.  You sit there, emotionless.  Expressionless.  A wonderful gray rock.

 

“What do that mean?”

 

You uncross your legs and stand up, pushing your chair in and start making your way to the door.

 

“Nyet, you do not leave yet!  Not until I say!”  Viktor stands and kicks his chair back.  You give him a very wide berth, Johnny right beside you in less than a heartbeat and guiding you to the door, letting Simon and the guards deal with him for the moment.

 

You swing the door open wide and get through it, Johnny on your heels.  You make it a ways down the long hallway before you stop, turning to the wall and placing a hand on it, bent over a little as you feel incredibly dizzy, the world spinning as your knees start to buckle.   “Ohhhhhh fuuuuuck…”

 

Johnny grabs you, turning you towards him and wrapping his arms around you, one around your waist and the other placed on the back of your head, kissing the side of your head a few times.  “So good, ye were so fuckin’ good in there m'girl!”

 

You slowly snake your arms around Soap, your whole body trembling while you press your face into his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut and try to control your breathing before you hyperventilate.

 

You hear multiple doors opening, footsteps approaching quickly. You keep your face buried against Johnny.

 

“That's the most that bastard's said in a week.”  Price is standing somewhere behind you now.

 

“We got a name.  Best thing you could do for us.”  Gaz is patting you on the back now.

 

“Uh, Love, Laswell would like t-”

 

“ No! ”  Ghost bellows from somewhere behind Soap.  “She's done enough.  Get her outta here, Johnny.”

 

“Come on hen, I got ye.”  Before you can even tell him you'll be ok walking, Johnny moves your arms to wrap around his neck, grabbing behind your thighs and hoisting you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist before he carries you away.  You hang onto him tightly, not because you are afraid of him dropping you, but to cling onto your anchor.  Your rock. 

 

You hear a door open, with more voices joining the boys in the hall.  Simon being the loudest out of all of them, though it’s hard to tell what exactly he is saying.  You then hear heavy footsteps approaching you.  

 

“Want me to take her, Johnny?”

 

“I got her, L.T.”

 

You still haven’t lifted your head, feeling a little embarrassed that Johnny is carrying your ass.  You are just aware of opening doors, being outside for a moment, and back inside again.

 

“Captain's office.  Price and Gaz will join us shortly.”

 

“Takin’ her to our room, she needs a minute.”

 

“Right, meet us there then.”

 

After a few more minutes, Johnny stops walking, taking one hand off of one of your thighs.  A jingling of the keys and the door swinging open, Johnny carries you in and kicks the door shut with his foot.  He tosses his keys onto the desk before walking to the cot and sitting down with you, letting go of your thighs to slide both hands up and down your back.  You loosen your grip from Johnny, relaxing your legs and arms.  “Ye've stopped tremblin’, tha's a start.”

 

“I'm… I'm sorry, Johnny…”

 

He shushes you, kissing the side of your head, shifting the both of you before he starts rocking you a little.  “Nothin’ to be sorry about, swee'hear’.  Ye've never done this before.  Ye did so fuckin’ well.” 

 

You give a little nod, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly before carefully leaning away from him.  A smile instantly on his face.  “There's m'girl.”

 

You give him a worried look.  “Will Ghost get into trouble for talking back to the Captain?”

 

“Doubtful anyone would call him out on it.  Price gets it.  Laswell will back off most like.”

 

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

 

“Nah, Ghost had it righ’.  Ye did enough.  We got a name , bonnie.”

 

“Have to up the ante with that vodka for next time.”

 

“Wha'dya mean, ‘next time’?”

 

“Next time.  When I go in there.  Maybe you could pre-game him a little beforehand?  Then I bring in a bottle and ‘drink’ with him, get him to divulge something. ”  

 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, leaning you away from him.  You open your eyes to an ocean of blue looking into yours.  Though with a very furrowed brow.  “There's no next time for ye.  Ye did what they asked.”

 

“You and I both know this won’t be a one off.”

 

“Ye can say no, lass.  Ye don’ have to go back in.”

 

“Yes I do.  Because all of this is fucked up, none of it makes sense, and what I really want doesn’t even matter until we get Makarov.”

 

Johnny looks like he is about to ask you to elaborate about what you meant, but he keeps his mouth shut.  You grab onto his shoulders and push yourself off of his lap, standing in front of him and crossing your arms over yourself.  “You better get to Price’s office.  See what he needs.”

 

Johnny stands, looking down at you, making you uncross your arms so he can take both of your hands into his, gently swirling his thumbs on the skin of the backs of both of them.  “We both go, hen.  Gonna make sure ye are better included.  Releasing a hand, he opens up the door, ushering you forward and following you closely on the way to Price’s office.

Chapter 37: Shadows

You knock before opening the door to Price’s office, as you always do.  Price is on his phone, standing off in the corner.  He’s talking quietly enough that you can’t hear the conversation.  Probably for the best.

 

You grab the chair you sat in earlier, sitting down and bringing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your forehead to them while closing your eyes.  

 

You hear someone coming up to you, and feel a light tap tap to your shoe. Lifting your head, you see Gaz crouched down in front of you and smiling.  “Is our little miss doing alright?”

 

You nod and give him the best smile you can muster right now.  He squints at you.  Definitely not believing you.  He stands, only to move to the chair next to yours, shifting it closer before sitting and leaning towards you, eyes scrutinizing.  You scrunch up your face and stick your tongue out at him, getting a quiet chuckle from him while you rest your head against your legs again.

 

“Ghost not here yet?”  Price asks from his part of the room.  You peek over your legs and see that he is off the phone.

 

“Not yet.  Said he would be along soon.”  Gaz tells everyone.

 

Price lets out a grunt, scratching at the back of his neck while coming over towards you.  He half sits on the front of his desk while looking down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Got some questions to ask you, love.”

 

“Oi Cap, can't she just get a fuckin’ break?”  Johnny takes his seat on the other side of you, moving as close as his chair allows before sitting down and protectively wrapping an arm around you, with you dropping your legs as he pulls you closer to lean against him.

 

“Shepherd just about came in here to ask her himself.  This is the lesser evil, Soap.”  Captain shifts a little, looking uncomfortable.

 

“What's got Shepherd's dick in a twist now?”  You ask, sitting up a little straighter.

 

“What do you know of the Shadows, love?”  Price has his head tilted now as he asks.

 

You frown up at him.  “Uh… you want the dictionary term, ooor..?”

 

“Just tell me what you know about them love.”  Price crosses his feet one over the other, continuing to lean against his desk.

 

“The… when an object is illuminated by a source of light, a darkened area is formed?”  You offer up at him, your voice going a few octaves higher as you reach the end of your questioned statement.

 

Price grunts, looking between Gaz and Soap before looking back at you.  “Does the name Graves mean anything to you?”  Price holds his hand up as Johnny and Kyle start protesting.  “Need to hear from her lads!”

 

“IThe only ‘graves’ I know are six feet deep and have family members in them.”

 

Price seems satisfied by your answers, visibly relaxing now.  “None of the boys told you of Shadow Company?”

 

“Is it a sequel to Lethal Company?”  You ask, which just makes Price look confused now.  “Lethal Company is a game.  I don't know anything about Shadow Company, John.”

 

“Where the fuck does Shepherd get off on asking her about any of this?”  Gaz sounds angry now.  Angrier than you've ever heard him if you thought about it.

 

“An’ why the fuck is he askin’ her ‘bout Graves?”  Johnny sounds equally as angry as Kyle.  It just makes you more confused.

 

“Who or what is Shadow Company?  And what about graves?  Am I supposed to know who might be buried there?”  You shift in your seat.

 

“No’ a grave , hen.  Graves.  Fuckin’ piece of shite he is.”

 

“Let’s not discuss this with her any further, lads.”  Price adds.

 

“Can I at least know what made General Dipshit think that I would know anything about whatever it is I don’t know about?”

 

“Something you said to the prisoner, love.  That and there’s an assumption because of how close you are to the 141.”  Price stands up straight and drops his arms, moving around his desk to sit in his chair.

 

“Still doesn’t make any fucking sense, Price.  She mentions shadows and he immediately thinks she knows of Graves and Shadow Company?”  Gaz takes off his hat for a minute.

 

“A whisper from the shadows, and… there you were?”  …That must be what they are referring to…

 

Price grabs his phone out of his pocket, tapping out a text.  “Does sound like a guilty conscience, eh lads?”

 

“And this is why I don’t trust that slimy fucking asshole that calls himself a general.”  You shift again in your chair, trying to keep yourself calmed.  

 

Ghost comes into the office finally, shutting the door behind him.  You tilt in your chair to look back at him.  “Who died?”

 

“Sure as shite wasn’t Graves.”  Johnny squeezes your hand a little tighter.

 

Ghost grunts, taking the remaining empty seat finally.  

 

“So what was it that Laswell wanted?”  You bring your feet up towards your chest again.

 

“Christ Dove, just take a break for a change, yeah?”  Ghost chimes in.

 

“Simon sweetie, thank you for being worried about me, but if I don’t hear about it now it’ll eat me alive and I’d like to have at least a tiny chance of getting some sleep tonight.”

 

Ghost grumbles something from behind you, and you turn in your chair to look at him for a minute.  He just stares at you as you are turned around.  You wink and turn back to Price.  “Lay it on me, Price.”

 

“Laswell wants to know what it’ll take for you to go back in there again.”  

 

“Wait a day or so, give him some alcohol and say it’s a little gift from me.  I go on when he’s sloshed, see what he says?”

 

Price takes his phone and taps away at it again before tucking it away.  “We’ll see how she feels about it.”

 

You shrug.  “Get him drunk enough, you won’t even need me.”

 

“You've had this thought out already?”  Gaz looks over at you.

 

“Brought it up to Johnny earlier.  Whether its doable or not, I dunno.  Don’t entirely care.  It's an idea anyway.  Beyond that, unless you have a sort of truth serum, that's as close as you will get to it.”

 

Gaz nods and looks away, thinking it over.  

 

You sigh and stand up.  “I need to find something to eat before I get any more nauseous and light headed.  You'll figure it out.”  You lean down and give Johnny a quick kiss to the cheek, patting his shoulder before heading to the door.

 

“Haven't been dismissed, love.”

 

“Not military, daddy-o.”  You turn and salute him to be a smart ass, snickering as you leave the room.

 

You make your way into the Officer's Lounge and poke through the cabinets.  Dinner ended hours ago, so not much of a point trying to see what scraps were left over in the mess hall.  So the lounge it was.

 

You said a silent thanks to whoever stocked the lounge once you found all the protein bars shoved away.  You kept to the ones that seemed to not be well liked, and you felt less guilty about shoving one of those in your mouth.  They definitely weren’t the greatest.  But this wasn't the time to be picky.

 

While munching on one of those, you tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave and punched in the time.  Much like the protein bars, popcorn was a community commodity of the lounge.  You didn't have to worry about taking away a snack from someone else.  Between it and the protein bar, it should tide you over until the morning.  Plus, it’s not a new concept to you.  Many times growing up, you resorted to it as dinner when there wasn’t anything else to eat in the house.

 

You open the microwave door at the very last second, like you were diffusing some bomb that was about to go off.  You clear the time off the microwave before you tear open the corners of the bag of popcorn, inhaling the steam rising from inside.  You carefully shove your hand in and pop a few kernels into your mouth.  Could maybe use a little more butter.  But not bad for a last minute dinner.  

 

You grab another protein bar for good measure and a couple bottles of water, heading back down towards Soap's room carrying your loot.  You keep your head down to not make eye contact with anyone, like you usually did.  You were usually left alone that way.

 

You hear someone coming towards you as you made your way through the halls to the room.  Just as you are about to pass by them, you see their feet moving in front of you, deliberately knocking themself into you and grabbing onto your shoulders to keep you steady.  Acting as if you were the clumsy one.

 

Somehow not dropping anything onto the ground, you lift your head to scowl at whoever was in front of you.

 

“Whoa!  Slow down there, little lady. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”  He shifts you to get a better look at the name on the breast of the hoodie you stole of Johnny's.  “Weeeell, if it isn't the lovely Mrs. MacTavish!  I'd thought I heard something about Soap getting married.  Nice job with the interrogation, by the way.”  He finally releases your shoulder and steps back, eyes looking you up and down as you take a step back as well to put distance between the two of you.

 

Looking them over, you take note of their very southern US accent, their short brown hair, and their various patches on their tack vest.  One of them sticks out more than the others, though.

 

GRAVES

 

“I'd shake your hand but it looks like they're a might touch full at the moment.  Say, what if I help you carry your things and I’ll escort you to wherever you need to go, huh?”  Graves makes a move to grab some things from your arms.  You quickly take yet another step away from him.

 

You have an instant dislike towards this Graves.  You can't quite figure out if it's because of how the boys spoke of him, or because something just doesn't feel right.  Alarm bells going off in your head telling you nothing good comes from the man before you.  

 

You sidestep him, walking fast to get away from him, almost starting to run back to your room.  From behind you, Graves yells, “Nice meetin’ you, Mrs. MacTavish!  Ask that husband of yours to introduce us, I'd love to get to know you better!”

 

You grab your keys from your bra, shoving the right one into the lock and get inside, shutting the door tightly behind you and locking it.  You set everything you were carrying down onto the desk before reaching for your phone, unlocking the screen and punching Soap's contact picture, waiting as the phone rang.

 

“ Hey Princess, I'm ju-”

 

“Are you still with the guys?”

 

“We're almos’ finished up in Price's office.  Everything ok?”

 

“Can you please put me on speaker?”

 

“Hang on.”  A little bit of shuffling on his end later, and , “On speaker, hen.”

 

“So I just ran into your bestest buddy Graves.”

 

“Ran into him how, dovey?”   Ghost asks.

 

“I was leaving the lounge and coming back to our room and he literally ran into me in the hallway.”

 

“ He did wha ’?”  Soap goes into protective mode.

 

“He thought he was being cute and decided that he just had to talk to me and let me know that he saw the interrogation.”

 

“Un-fuckin… Hen, where are ye now?”  Soap sounds like he’s pacing the room now.  

 

“I'm fine.  Breathe, Bubbles.  I'm locked in our room.  As far as I know he didn’t follow me.  I just wanted to give you all a heads up that I don’t want to be walking around this place by myself anymore with him on base.”

 

“ Great thinking, wouldn't want that arsehole around our little miss if we depended on it. ”  Gaz says.

 

“ Did you say anything to him, love? ” Price asks you.

 

“No.  He thought he was being charming, but he came off as a fucking creeper.  Didn't say jack shit to him, though he sure as hell tried.”

 

“ Alright.  From now on, no roaming the grounds without an escort for however long Graves is on base.  Apologies in advance love, even with this coming from you I hate to take away the little freedom you have. ”

 

“No, I appreciate all of it.  I'm just sad I'm a burden on you again.”

 

“ Nonsense, dove.  Keeping you safe and comfortable is important to all of us.”  You damn near shed a few tears from how sweet Simon is.

 

“Thanks.  To all of you.”

 

“ I'll finish up here and be back there in jus’ a while.  Love ye, hen.”

 

“Love you too, Johnny.  Bye guys.”

 

After a few murmurs from the others the call ends.  You sigh and put your phone on the desk, running your fingers through your hair.  You grab your bag of popcorn, sitting on the cot with it and crossing your legs while you start to eat your dinner, turning on the TV and throwing on something to watch as background noise.

 

Settling in, you shove a few more kernels in and stop mid chew, frowning as you realize something.

 

Was… was that our first ‘I love you’ in front of the boys?

 

You were obviously affectionate around them.  A little mean with the shirt stunt with Simon, almost like you were rubbing it in his face that you and Johnny were 'together'.  

 

But saying it in front of the guys?  Even though they all basically knew you loved each other before the two of you knew you loved each other?

 

Not yet.  Not until now.

And fuck if it didn't feel good…

Chapter 38: Bygones

BZZZZZZ

 

BZZZZZZ

 

BZZZZZZ 

 

“Johnny…”

 

BZZZZZZ

 

BZZZZZZ

 

“Johnny…?”

 

“Mmmph… s'matter?”

 

BZZZZZZ

 

“Your phone.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

BZZZZZZ

 

“Your phone, honey.”

 

“Mmph.  Don’ hear nothin’.”

 

“It's on vibrate.”

 

“Hmmph.  If it's important, they'll call back.  Go back to sleep, m'girl.”

 

BZZZZZZ

 

“I think it’s important...”

 

BZZZZZZ

 

Johnny sighs heavily, unwrapping his arms from you while kissing you softly, with you moving your legs, moving back and letting him roll over to grab his phone off the nightstand.  You lay there, eyes closed, pulling the blanket up to your chin.  Half asleep, but trying to listen in.

 

“MacTavish.  Aye.  Aye?  What time, sir?  Alrigh’.  Aye, she's here with me,  I'll le’ her know.  Aye, sir.”

 

You hear him set his phone down and roll back towards you, feeling the blanket move only to be replaced by Johnny and his warmth.  His arms going back around you and pulling you back against him again, your own arms grabbing him and holding on.  He'd come back late last night, with you half asleep and sitting up in bed, back against the wall.  He'd then strip down to just his shirt and boxers, getting you situated and comfortable before crawling in next to you.  With him there and you laying with your ear against his chest, you'd fall asleep quickly.

 

“Who was it?”  Your voice has that tired, with a groggy growl to it.  

 

“Price.  Have to meet him in his office by ten-hundred.”  Johnny's has the same growl in his voice.  Low and grumbly.  Not to mention sexy as hell.

 

“Great…  what time is it?”

 

“Oh-seven-fourty.”

 

You move and stretch a little until you stop and gasp, the time finally registering in your brain.  “Fuck, you were supposed to meet with recruits over a half hour ago!”

 

“Shhhh training was postponed ‘til tomorrow.  Got orders for it last nigh’, turned off my ringer so we could sleep in.”  He lightly grips onto you to settle you.  

 

Your body relaxes as you take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Johnny tilts your face towards his and kisses you slowly, which you return, hoping your morning breath wasn’t that bad.  

 

“Works out perfectly in my favor.  I get to have the mornin’ with ye.”

 

“A morning stuck with me?  You poor bastard.”

 

He chuckles, tilting and resting his forehead against yours.  “The poorest.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like something Price would approve.”

 

“Laswell did.”

 

You pull your head back and eye him suspiciously.  “Laswell?”

 

“Order came from her, hen.  ‘Take some time with the missus this morning.’ is wha’ she said to Price.”  He lays down again next to you and relaxes.

 

“And that doesn’t seem the least bit weird to you?”

 

“Should it?”  He moves his hand and lightly rubs at your arm.

 

“Military giving you time off, without asking for it, and you just happen to be the husband of someone that same military has a high interest in?  Except we aren’t actually married, and Laswell knows as much?  Nope, totally fine.”

 

“We say we’re married often enough, I don’ think people remember we aren’ actually.”  He moves his hand down, running his thumb over the ring on your finger.  “Migh’ have to fix tha’.”

 

“Hmm… while I wouldn’t have an issue marrying a corpse, the military and other government entities would.”  You lift up the hand he’s still holding and kiss his fingers.

 

“Ye really are a dark and glass half empty kind of girl, aren’ ye lass?  Been hangin’ around Simon too much.”  He sighs again.  “Except ye’ve been righ’ abou’ most everything…”

 

“That’s the rub, Johnny.”

 

“I got somethin’ ye can rub.”

 

“Oh really ?”

 

“Mmhmm.”  He pulls you tighter against his chest, head tilting and kissing over your face from your temple down to your cheek, one hand migrating to your hip and grabbing on possessively.

 

You reach up and lightly start rubbing his mohawk, making him chuckle low and deep against your skin.  “No’ quite wha’ I meant, but I'll take it.”

 

“I can feel precisely what you meant, Bubbles.”

 

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, sucking loud kisses against it and coaxing a few giggles from you as your arms go around his waist and rub at his lower back with a sigh, the hand on your waist slipping up and bringing your leg up and hooking it around his thigh.

 

He leans back and kisses a line over your jaw and down your neck.  “Ye afraid of me, hen?”

 

“Not so much… afraid.  Mostly… intimidated?  I think that's what I'd call it.”

 

Johnny rolls you gently, letting you lay partially on your back but your hips are still sided up to his, with him looking down at you, playing with your hair and frowning down at you.  “Wha's so intimidatin’ about me, princess?”

 

“For starters?  I know most of your body count.  And mine is… well… not… anything close to it…”

 

“Does tha’ bother ye?”  Concern flashes across his face.

 

“No, it's not that.  I'm thinking more… experience wise?  I don't have much in that department.”

 

“I don’ care ‘bout none of tha’, m'girl.  I care about you .  Everythin’ abou’ ye, just as ye are.”

 

“You understand where I'm coming from at least, yeah?  Cause I feel… I feel like I'd be a disappointment compared to most, if not all the others you've been with.”

 

Johnny raises himself above you more, looking down at you while his hand cradles your face and lightly caresses your skin with his thumb.  “Never in a million years could ye ever disappoin” me with anythin’, beau'iful.  And never would I ever try to compare ye to anyone .  No one else mat’ers to me but you .  I wan’ ye just as ye are, if'n ye'll take me as I am.”

 

You wrap your fingers ever so lightly around his wrist, closing your eyes while tilting your head and kissing over every part of his hand that you can.  When you finally open your eyes to look up at him again, a few tears roll down the sides of your face and pool into your ear lobes as you just stare into those beautiful blue eyes of his.  Touched by just how fucking sweet he is.

 

You rise up just enough to catch his lips with yours, placing your hand on his face and feeling a tremor ripple through his entire body by doing so.  He meets you with his own kiss, deepening it while shifting over you to lay you flatter on your back, kissing down to your neck before burying his face into it.  His arms slip under you to hold you tightly against his chest, against him, relaxing some of his body weight onto you.  You tangle your arms around him, fingers lightly massaging over the back of his head and neck.  Drinking in every second you have with him.

 

He pulls his face away after a moment, planting a few light kisses against your lips.  “I love ye, swee’ girl.  More than anythin’.

 

“I love you too, Johnny.”

 

He shifts his body down further to lay his head against your chest, his ear pressed against your skin.  Listening to your heartbeat.  “Tell ye wha’.  Let's get dressed.  Then let's get some breakfast.  And by the time we're done, we'll go see what Price wants, aye?”

 

“I dunno babes, the thought of staying in bed just a little longer with you is very enticing.”  You lightly scratch your nails over his scalp, giggling when he lets out a content growl.  “Fine fine.  Let's go feed the bear.”  He growls again against your chest, making you laugh.

 

 

---

At oh-nine-fifty, you are knocking on Price's office door, only opening it after the man himself booms out an “ENTER!”.  Simon and Kyle are there already with Price, leaning over the desk and talking quietly.  Simon’s eyes look up at you and nod before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

 

You nodded back at him as you stay quiet while going over to the window, having a look outside while the boys went over, what you assume, plans for a mission.  Johnny walks to the desk, eyes scanning over whatever is laid out across it.  

 

You try your best not to eavesdrop in on the conversation, keeping focus on what is going on outside.  Someone being yelled at while doing push ups.  A group running in formation.  A basketball game going on elsewhere, a ton of trash talking happening.  And then you see him and you step away from the window.  

 

Graves…

 

You watch as he makes his way towards the building where most of the Officer’s offices are located.  The same building you are in…

 

“Anyone expecting a visit from Graves?”  You ask from your corner of the office.  You turn a little and all of the boys are looking amongst themselves, then look over at you.  “He's headed this way, figured you'd like a heads up.”

 

Gaz stands up straighter and comes over towards you, looking out the window as you pointed out where Graves was at, watching as he opened up one of the doors and headed inside.  Gaz grumbles something, patting you on the shoulder before he walks back over to the desk.  You stay right where you are, knowing you will mostly be hidden from view if someone does come into the office.

 

Sure enough, there’s a knock at the door.  Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and Price stand at their full heights, crossing their arms over their chests, puffing themselves out a little as they do.  Price grumbles out an “ENTER!”, with the door opening.  You can see each of the guys stiffen their stances at whoever just entered, since the door swings open in your direction and keeps you hidden from them.

 

“Captain.  Lieutenant.  Sergeants.  Nice to see’ ya’ll again.”  Graves steps forward towards Price’s desk.  “I’d love to know some of the details on just how you got your hands on that prisoner you brought in.”  He then drops a hefty stack of papers right in the middle of Price's desk, obscuring whatever it was they were working on.  “This is all the information Laswell has been able to get her hands on about them.”

 

“Why didn’t you just ask Laswell?”  Gaz gruffs at Graves.

 

“I figured it’d be a lot more interesting coming from you four.  Well, I guess I should say the five of you?  Since Soap’s wife ended up involved in everything somehow.  Where is that little firecracker?  Met her in the hall yesterday and was disappointed we didn't get a chance to talk.”

 

“None of your fuckin’ business where she is, Graves. ”  Soap adjusts his stance ever so slightly, making himself appear even taller somehow.  

 

“It's about to become a lot of my business, since I'll be sitting in on these interrogations.”  Graves says with a cocky little smirk on his face now.  

 

“You can sit in the observation room just fine.”  Price has picked up the stack of papers, thumbing his way through them.

 

“I've got orders to be in the room with the prisoner, Captain.  For the safety of Soap’s wife, of course.”

 

“I can protect my wife jus’ fine.”  

 

“Oh really?  Is that what you call your wife getting shot by Makarov?  ‘Protecting her’?”

 

Ghost and Price have to grab onto Soap, preventing him from jumping over the desk entirely and beating the shit out of the smug looking Graves.  You almost wish they hadn’t.

 

“Look boys, can't we just let bygones be bygones?  Ghost and Soap got caught in the crossfire with the Vaqueros and almost died, Soap tried to kill me, we all failed.  It got messy, I'll admit.  I was just following my orders from Shepherd.  Just like how I'm following orders now.”  Graves cracks his knuckles, smiling.  

 

You are seething .  You want to attack the son of a bitch yourself.  The boys never told you any of that… then again, they never do give details. about their missions or how they were injured.  You try to wrack your brain to figure out if you could pinpoint what they were even talking about, but nothing springs to mind.  At least now you know why this guy made your skin crawl.

 

“So, when are ya'll going to give me that proper introduction to the missus?  We should start get to know each other better since I'll be around quite a while.  Would love to know why in the hell she agreed to marry you of all people, Soap.”

 

“She don’ wan’ to have nothin’ to do with ye, Graves.”  Johnny does try to get out of Ghost's and Price's grasp again, but they still hold firm.

 

Graves chews on his lip, almost like he's biting away a laugh.  “Why don't we let her decide for herself?  Eh, Soap?”  

 

“I don't want anything to do with you, asshole .”  You finally break your silence.  Graves looks around the room before finally seeing you, turning himself towards you and smiling that smug little grin.  You want to punch it off of his face…

 

“And how long have you been standing there, pretty lady?  We were just having a little chat about you.”  Graves takes a step towards you with his hands on his hips, but then looks like he remembers there are four people that will absolutely kill him if he gets too close.

 

You walk away from your spot by the window now, keeping your eyes on Graves as you walk towards the 141 that are still at the desk.  Johnny is a bit more relaxed now that you've made your presence known, easing up on fighting to get after Graves for now.

 

Grave lets out a chuckle.  “So as I was just telling the men here, I've been stationed here while interrogations continue with the prisoner.”

 

You move and stand in front of Soap now, keeping your arms crossed over yourself.  With Price and Ghost relinquishing their hold, Johnny takes a step forward, pressing his chest against your shoulder.  Making sure you knew he was right there with you.

 

Graves tries to laugh, but it just comes off completely condescending.  “I've got orders here from General Shepherd to be in the interrogation room with you.  To keep you safe, and as backup to Soap and Ghost.”

 

“Keep me safe from… what, exactly?  I'm supposed to just trust you with my life after finding out you tried to kill Ghost and my husband?  Which apparently was authorized by General Shithead ?”  Johnny slips an arm around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

 

There's a flash of something on Graves’ face when you call them your boys, but he breezes past it quickly.  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before now, but-”

 

“Why would I have heard about it?  I’m a civilian.  The only thing I get to know is what injuries they have, and wound care instructions.  I’m the one waiting for them to get home and assess all the damage that's been done to them.  And I can only hope that they do get to come through the door.”

 

Graves falls silent for a moment.  Deep in thought.  Probably mulling over your use of ‘them’ as a collective and not just ‘Johnny’.

 

“You can be in observation with the others during her interactions with the prisoner.”  Ghost has come forward now, standing by you and placing a hand on your shoulder.

 

“With all due respect Ghost, my orders came from the General.”

 

“With absolutely no fucking respect, your orders don’t mean jack shit to me.  The General wants my help?  You go to observation.  Otherwise my happy ass is done with this bullshit and y'all are on your own.”  You tilt to look back at Ghost before setting your eyes back on Graves.

 

Graves sizes you up, looking between Soap and Ghost as they both flank you.  He then sucks on his teeth, nodding at you.  “I’ll go have a word with Shepherd.”  He gives a strained smile as he turns and makes his way out of the office, slamming the door shut harder than was necessary.

 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, your body visibly shrinking down and leaning into Johnny for a second to regain your composure.  “Did he seriously try to kill you?”

 

“Aye.  Though’ I go’ him.  Bastard wasn’t in the fucking tank.”

 

You tilt your head back and look up at Johnny.  “You… he was in a tank?! ”

 

“I’ll tell ye abou’ it later.”  Johnny leads you over to the chairs and lets you sit, going behind you and leaning down, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.  It’s incredibly comforting.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Graves so… so…” Gaz is scratching the back of his neck, trying to come up with the right words.

 

“Powerless.”  Ghost offers, going back over to the desk and putting eyes on what they were working on when you first came in.

 

“Does anyone else have the urge to punch him in the face every time he opens his mouth?”  You ask, and are answered with a resounding ‘Yes’ from all four of the 141.  You sigh heavily, tilting your head and cracking your neck.

 

“So what was this meeting supposed to be about?”  You move a hand and lightly rub Johnny's arm as he's still bent over you.

 

“Interrogation, love.  Right now, you run the show.  Laswell approved your request.  Reluctantly.”  Price looks at you.

 

“And… you want me in there again as fast as possible.”  Johnny squeezes his arms around you more as you make your statement.

 

“I'm very sorry, Love.  We're-”

 

“Running out of time.  I know.  Fuck…  alright… let's start getting the asshole drunk.  Little shots to start out with, say it's from me, and tonight…  I'll see what I can do.”

 

“Thank you, Love.  Alright.  Let's make a plan.”  Price motions for you to stand, and you do once Johnny releases you.  You then move closer to the desk as you and your boys make a plan for tonight with the prisoner.

 

Your head is already throbbing as a headache starts to form…

Chapter 39: Ghost's Bees

Notes:

A bunch of filler that was going to be apart of another chapter, but decided to just make it it's own thing. So you gain a bonus.

Happy Easter!

Or, if you don't celebrate -

Happy Zombie Jeebus Day!

Johnny

 

I should be listenin’ to the Captain righ’ now.  I should be listenin’ to the plan.  Listenin’ about how ye have to interact with the prisoner again.  Comforting ye when it gets overwhelming.  Fuck, ye're adorable.

 

I shouldn’ be thinkin’ of our conversation this mornin’.  But here I am.  And here you are, always in my head.

 

Been barely over a week since we were in tha’ safehouse.  Me, on my knees in front of ye, wrapping your hand in a bandage, and confessin’ tha’ I couldn' be without ye.

 

Confessin’ that I love ye.

 

Been crazy in between then and now, but tryin’ to settle into the new… us.

 

‘ Us .’  Fuck, I love the sound of tha’.

 

Love the sound of ye calling me ye're husband even more.

 

Been ‘married’ to ye longer than we've started traversing this new side of our friendship.  Relationship.  Can’ exactly be friends the way I kiss ye.  The way I think abou’ ye.

 

People do forget we're no’ actually married.  I forget it myself.  It all just seems so natural with us.  Every interaction with ye around anyone we’re ‘pretendin’ with has always been beyond convincing.  It's always felt real.  

 

Real affection.

 

Real kindness.

 

Real love.

 

And to find out ye felt the same way abou’ me?

 

Me?

 

Made my heart fuckin’ sing .

 

Every time ye look at me, touch me, kiss me, say my name… I fall deeper and deeper in love with ye.  

 

Ye're a scrappy wee thing.  You puttin’ Graves in his place?  Tha’ was sexy.

 

I wonder how serious ye were abou’ marryin’ me.  If I wasn' dead on paper.

 

Fuckin’ hell, we haven’ even been intimate, and I still wanna call ye mine forever.

 

Mine.  Think I love the sound of tha’ even more.

 

---

After the meeting, the boys have to see Laswell and go over what was discussed.  You were invited to join in, but you just wanted to be alone and think about things.  Johnny delivered you to the room, stealing a dozen kisses from you before you were able to shoo him off to his meeting.  Gods, you love that man.

 

While waiting for him to come back, you end up taking a snooze.

 

When Johnny returns, you spend a good part of the day watching a favorite show, kicking each other's asses at Fortnite, and browsing stupid videos on the internet.  Maybe you spent too much time together?  ….Nah.

 

“So who is this Graves asshole?  What do I need to know about him?”  You ask, after browsing yet another stupid meme on the internet while waiting for your Fortnite match to start.

 

“Phillip Graves.  CEO of Shadow Company.  They go to the highest bidder, and there’s dozens of the fucks.”

 

“He doesn’t have any military standing?”

 

“Calls himself Commander.  He used to be in the marines.  Got out of it for the money.”

 

“Aha… military cuck?”

 

Johnny’s attention turns to you, which is just long enough for him to die in Fortnite.  “Fuckin’ shite.”

 

“What’s the thing with the tank and him trying to kill you?”  You are still fighting in the game.

 

“Shadows was working alongside us and a few other outfits.  General Shepherd was paying them.  We get back to base, and there’s a standoff.  It’s only Ghost and me there from 141.  I took a bullet in the mix.  Ghost and I rendezvous, got the hell ou’ of there.  Met up with Rudy, Rudy and me went to find Graves.  Found him in a tank.  Blew up the tank.  Long story short, the fuck wasn’ in it.”

 

“Rudy?”

 

“Rodolfo.  Goes by Rudy.  Him and Alejandro are part of the Los Vaqueros.  Met them down in Mexico where most of this went on."

 

“When was all this?”

 

“First mission we went on after ye moved in.  I was gone long enough, the wounds were fairly healed.  Just sore as all get out.” 

 

“I think I remember that now, you were stiff for quite some time.”

 

“I’m stiff mos’ of the time, princess.”

 

It’s now your turn to lose focus and die.  You look over at him and shake your head.  “Trust me.  I know.  Get poked just about every morning.”

 

Soap laughs, setting aside his controller and grabs onto you, taking your controller and setting it aside before attacking your face with kisses.

 

---

 

At some point you decide to change into clothes that are more ‘you’.  Your default has been leggings, one of Johnny's shirts, and one of his hoodies.  Baggy, bulky, soft, and comfortable as fuck.  But this time, you figure that dressing more presentable was the way to go.  You settled on a plain black pair of leggings, and your favorite top you have that looks great on you.  Bonus it's in your favorite color. 

 

Eventually it's dinner time.  The two of you head to the mess hall.  You weren't hungry again, with the anxiety gnawing away at your insides.  But you had to eat.  If you did end up drinking anything with the prisoner, doing so on an empty stomach wasn't a great plan.

 

Once you are sat down with your trays and settled in, Johnny scoots his chair next to yours before sitting.  You smile over at him.  “At this point, I may as well just start sitting on your lap.”

 

“Wouldn’ be hearin’ no complaints from me, princess.”

 

“I'd just be poked in the ass a hell of a lot more than I am already.”  You say nonchalantly while stabbing at your food, making Soap choke on his water.  You snicker at him.  

 

“Ye're really gonna be the death of me one of these days.  Ye really are.”

 

“At least we'll all know you died a happy man.”  You wipe your mouth with a napkin and lean over, kissing him on the cheek.  He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest, growling a kiss into your lips which makes you have a fit of giggles.

 

“Get a room, you two.”  Simon has come over with his own tray and a mug of tea, sitting at the end of the table and turning his chair backwards, straddling it with the back of the chair against his chest

 

Soap finally lets you go.  “Evenin’, L.T.”

 

Ghost grunts at Soap in a greeting.  “Have a nice nap, Dove?”

 

“I did.  I would have asked you to join me, but those cots are so damn tiny.  Johnny and I have a hell of a time fitting as it is.  Not sure how it'd go trying to fit you and me since you're so… massive.”  You watch as Simon pulls out his phone and taps away at it while slipping the bottom of his mask up to his nose.

 

“You do know you can get a bigger cot, right?”  Simon brings his mug up to drink his tea, not looking away from his phone.

 

“I'm sorry, we can do what now?”  You tilt your head, watching Simon now, but seeing Johnny get a little red and very sheepish from the corner of your eye.

 

“Bigger cot.  They have them available for the couples on base.”  Ghost sets down his mug, taking his fork and getting a mouthful of food.

 

You turn your body towards Johnny and lean forward, your nose pressing into his cheek while he refuses to look at you.  “You mean to tell me, we have been smooshing ourselves onto that tiny fucking cot of yours, and we could have had a bigger fucking bed this whole time?”

 

“Didn’ think it was much needed?”

 

“You are a terrible liar, MacTavish.”

 

He sighs and you move away from him as he turns his head towards you.  “I like the how close ye are to me when ye sleep.  Even though ye snore like a chainsaw.”

 

You roll your eyes at him, swatting him on the arm.  “I do not snore… that badly.  Ya dork.”

 

“Ye've seen how small my room is, hen.  Bigger bed's no’ gonna fit.”

 

“So we can put it in my room and just sleep in there.”

 

Johnny frowns at you, swallowing his food without hardly chewing.  “Really?   Figured ye'd make me get rid of some stuff.”

 

“Last time I checked, you are a grown ass man.  I'm not going to make you get rid of or do anything.  If you want, my room is essentially storage, we could put some stuff in there if you'd prefer to sleep in your room.  I’d just like to have enough room so my ass isn't smashed right up against the wall all the time.  We can still smoosh, just more comfortably.  When it's all said and done everything will go back to the way it was and then you don't have to worry.”

 

You turn and are about to take another bite of food when Price and Gaz show up with their own trays.  

 

“Fancy meeting you here, little miss.  Wow, you look nice.”  Gaz says with a smile as he sits in front of you on the other side of the table.  “I see we've rubbed off on you more than usual, don't think I've seen you eat that much.”

 

“Had hopes for a better appetite, but it seems that's not happening.”  You take another bite.  “Plus I figured what I don't eat, you and Soap can have a deathmatch over it.”

 

“I mean, it's military food.  It's not good enough to die over.  Your cooking on the other hand… yeah, I'd take Soap out for it.”  Gaz grins at you and gives you a wink.  You shake your head at him before turning your attention to Price.

 

“How's getting the prisoner sloshed going?”  You scrape at your tray with your fork, playing with your food a little. 

 

“Thought it was poison.  Guard had the first drink.  Since then, he's polished off the small  amount we gave him.  Asked if the pretty one was going to give him any more.”

 

“Ah, so you sent Ghost in?  He is definitely a ‘pretty one’.”  Price shakes his head and chuckles before taking a drink of his coffee.

 

“Hey Ghost, I forgot to tell you, I finally figured out what kind of bees you like.”  You smile over at Simon sweetly.

 

Ghost looks over at you and cocks his head to the side.  “What kind of what?”

 

“I figured out what your favorite kind of bees are.”  You bat your eyes at Simon.

 

“The fuck you on about?  Did you hit your head again?”  Simon scans you up and down with his eyes.

 

Gaz frowns at you while very deep in thought.  “What’s Ghost’s favorite type of bees?”

 

“Boo-bees.”  You bite your hand to keep yourself from laughing, very proud of your joke.

 

The boys all groan at you, with Simon throwing a napkin at you.  “That was a terrible joke even by my standards, dove.”

 

“I thought it was hilarious, damnit.  But now, at some point, you are all going to be out on a mission, and somehow, some way, out in the blind waiting for an enemy,  one of you will just whisper over comms… “boo-bees”.  And you will just start giggling.”  

 

“We don’ just giggle like li’l girls while on missions, hen.”

 

“Not unless we’re looking for the enemy’s bullets to find us before we find them with ours.”  Gaz is still shaking his head at your dumb joke.

 

You are about to say something to Ghost when you see Graves walk through the door of the mess hall.  Your body stiffens at the sight of him.

 

Simon picks up on it immediately.  “What’s wrong, dove?”

 

You press your lips into a tight line for a moment before saying, “Graves.”

 

Johnny reaches over and lays his arm over the back of your chair as if to shield you, watching Graves now.  Price is about as subtle as a bull by the way he turns his head to look for Graves, then turns himself back to the table.  “Like a mutt you just can't get rid of.”

 

Gaz is even trying to get a side eyed look as Graves finds a place to sit before looking at you.  “You're safe with us.”

 

“Appreciate the hell out of all of you for putting up with me.”  You take a few more bites before you have to set your fork down, pushing the tray closer to the middle of the table.  “Annnnd deathmatch!”

 

Johnny lays claim quickly to a few things while Gaz takes the rest.  You laugh while watching them be ridiculous.  “You guys act like they don't feed you enough around here.”

 

“Cause they don’, lass.”  Johnny has a mouthful of food.

 

“I've lost weight.  Haven't had your cooking to keep me bulked up.”  Ghost looks up from his phone and at you.

 

“Hmm…  Maybe I can bribe the cooks into letting me use the kitchen one of these days.”

 

“How'dya think you'd manage that, love?”  Price pulls out his phone that's singing with notifications.

 

“I'll have to pull out the big guns and use some of my assets to my advantage.”  You lean back in your chair, raising your arms up over your head and keep leaning while cracking your back.  When you sit upright again, they are all staring at you.  “What?”

 

“Which assets?”  Gaz is grinning at you, waggling his eyebrows up and down at you.

 

“...my cooking, ye eedjits.”  You swat Gaz on the arm now, which makes him laugh harder.  “Pervs.  The lo’ of ye.”

 

“English, Dove.”

 

“Hey, it's your English.”  You smile over at Ghost.

 

“No, that's Johnny's Scottish.  Nothing about it comes out in English.”  Simon pulls his mask down and tucks it under his chin.  

 

“Would you prefer American English?  It's not a boot, it's a trunk.  It's not a flat, it's an apartment.  Fish and chips?  No, fish and french fries.  Or if you have a fatter type of potato, fish and potato wedges.  Do you know how long it took me to figure out that when I heard someone say they were having fish and chips, they were not, in fact, eating fish and potato chips?  Waaay too fucking long.  Which, by the way, they are called chips, not crisps.  And last but certainly not least, it's not football.  It's soccer .”

 

The guys laughed at you spoke, though they all feigned various forms of shock and horror at the last one.  

 

“Ye take tha’ back, lass.  Ye take tha’ back righ’ now.”  Johnny might be taking it much more seriously than the others though.

 

“So…ccer.”  You say it slowly for Johnny, grinning widely at him while you challenge him.

 

Soap taps the table with his fist.  “Tha's it.  Divorce.  Draw up the papers.  Can’ have ye teachin’ our bairn tha’ sort of blasphemy.  Have to send ye to live with ye’re Da.  Sor'y Price, ye’re daugh'er is a terrible influence.”

 

You are the one that chokes on your drink this time.  You cough a few times, trying to regain composure.  “You mean now I gotta move in with pops over here because I'm a soccer heathen?  How dare you.”  

 

Price's face is bright red, trying to hold in his laughter.  Failing miserably for a minute.  “Alright guys, let's get back to focusing on the job at hand.”  The Captain clears his throat now.  

 

Time to get serious again.  You had fun while it lasted.  You needed the laugh.

 

Your eyes dart past Ghost and catch Graves looking over at your table.  He looks like he's a sulking child, not allowed to join in on the fun being the outsider that he is.  He’d moved from his original spot so he could face your table.  Watching the five of you have fun.  

 

Part of you almost feels guilty.  

 

But the part of you that now knows the asshole tried to kill two of your boys?  

 

Tough.  Shit.

---

You make a pit stop at Price's office to grab the booze you requested, along with some plastic cups.  They encourage you to take a shot once you get in there.  One, to prove the bottle isn't laced with anything.  And two, to loosen your nerves.  Vodka wasn't usually something you drank straight, but for the sake of all this… fine.

 

It was decided you not bring him food this time, in hopes the alcohol soaks in and makes him more pliant.  This may have been your idea, but at this point you doubt any of this is worth it.  You've lost every fuck you had to give, really.  In your head now with all of it.

 

This is stupid.

 

This is so fucking stupid.

 

It's the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.

 

And the military is rolling over, showing it's belly?

 

Stupid idea.

 

Stupid fucking General.

 

Stupid Graves and his stupid punchable face.

 

Same as last time Task Force 141 lead you off towards interrogation.  Though this time, Graves is walking a short distance behind you.  You only knew that because of Price letting you all know.

 

Johnny is beside you, arm around your waist.  He actually tried carrying you, but you had put a stop to that.  Gaz is at your other side, arm around your shoulders.  Your hands are gripped onto their shirts at their sides.  Just felt like a good idea to keep a certain someone at bay.  

 

You enter like last time, stopping at the observation room and hugging both Price and Gaz for good luck.  Graves enters the building as you are mid hug with Gaz, who has lifted you off the ground for one of his bear hugs.  Graves stops where he is, watching everything.  Maybe it's because of how far away he is, but he almost looks jealous.

 

Gaz sets you down and follows Price.  Ghost and Johnny walk you to the interrogation room door.  You look over when the outside door opens, Graves’ eyes flick over the three of you as he walks down the hallway again, roughly opens the observation room door and stepping inside.

 

“Shoulda had ye with us in Mexico, hen.  Bet ye woulda stopped Graves from trying anything with the Vaqueros.”

 

“I don't think I would have fared very well with all the bullets flying around, Johnny.”  You look up at him as he smiles down at you.

 

“Ye would have had to listen to Ghost's jokes, too.  Arguably they were worse than ye'rs, princess.”

 

“Later, MacTavishes.  Dove's got a job to do.  Needs to focus now.”  Ghost grabs your shoulders and turns you to face him as he bends down slightly.  “Just like last time, Johnny and I will be right there.  Any discomfort and go to the door, we'll get you out.”

 

You nod once at him, putting as brave a face on as you can.  With a squeeze of your shoulders, Ghost lets you go.  You adjust your grip on the large bottle and the plastic cups, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

 

“Let's do this, boys.”

Notes:

Yeah, the boo-bees popped into my head at some point and I wanted to include it. Because I think I'm hilarious sometimes!

Chapter 40: Interrogation Part Deux

The layout is different.

 

The table and chairs were gone from before.  You suppose since he flipped the chair last time, no chances will be taken.

 

Chains around his ankles and wrists, Viktor is anchored to the floor in front of him where he sits.  He was singing something quietly to himself in Russian, his body rocking from side to side.

 

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Ghost walks to the prisoner, kicking Viktor in the shin.  “Someone's here to see you.”

 

Viktor swears in Russian as he lifts his head, looking right at you.  He smiles and raises his hands up as far as he can.  “WOMAN!”

 

You force yourself to smile at him.  “Hello, Viktor.  I brought you something.”  You gesture with the bottle as you move closer to him, sitting on the floor just out of his reach.  

 

That gets a chuckle out of him.  “You were behind my drink today I am told?  Yesterday food.  Today vodka?  What next?  A good fucking?”  He laughs hard at his own joke.

 

You fake laugh along with him, though really you feel like you could vomit because… gross.  You set the plastic cups out in front of you and try to open the bottle.

 

You twist a little harder but the top stays on.  You look back at Ghost and Soap, who are standing a short distance behind you.  You hold the bottle up towards them.  “Would one of you be a dear and open this for us pretty please?”

 

Johnny walks to you, crouching in front of you and twisting open the bottle with ease.  You mouth “play along”, and grab him by his tac vest, pulling him in for a kiss.  “Thank you, handsome.”  You wink at Soap, who grins at you before standing back up and taking a few steps back to stand beside Ghost again.  You watch as Soap whispers something to him.

 

You turn your attention back to the prisoner, with Ghost saying quietly “Now I wish I’d opened the bottle for her.”  You really hope Soap doesn’t make him pay for that comment later.

 

You fill the cups in front of you.  The first, you fill closer to the top, leaning forward and setting it just within his reach.  With him grabbing his cup greedily, you put significantly less in yours.  A buzz is fine, you don’t need to get plastered.

 

He holds his cup up towards you, and you return the gesture before you both have a drink.  You having a small drink, him downing half the glass.  You shudder from the taste.

 

“Did you fuck your task force and that is why they fall over themselves for you?”  He laughs again at himself, looking over at Soap and Ghost while finishing off the cup, setting it close to you for a refill.

 

You laugh along with him, though sounding a little uneasy.  He's too far gone to clock it though.  “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

 

“Hah!”  He looks down at his cup and back to you expectantly.  You reluctantly reach over and grab it, filling it up only halfway this time before handing it back.

 

“Can I ask you something, Viktor?”  You take another sip, trying not to react while looking at him with your head tilted, hoping your liquid courage kicks in quickly.

 

“I cannot say where Makarov is.”  He glares at you, though you half wonder if he’s trying to get you to stop being blurry as he drinks.

 

“I'm not gonna ask that.  I just wanna know what the fuck his issue is with me?  Like… why?  I’m nobody.  I’m not worth anything to anyone.  I’m a glorified housewife for fuck's sake. ”  You have another drink before lowering the cup in your hands, rolling it between them.

 

“You were very well hidden.  Figured there was something about you that the task force was protecting.  Your husband was dead.  Your death would hurt them.  Tear them further apart.  Make for easier target.”

 

You nod, taking a drink from your cup and shuddering again.  “That weirdly makes sense.  But only for the first attempt.  The second?  That was just… completely fucking dumb.”

 

He remains quiet, finishing off his cup and tossing it towards your feet.  You pick it up and pour him a smaller amount, that he downs easily.

 

“I mean, the first time… whatever.  He shot my husband in the head, he wanted to kick everyone while they are already down.  Plot twist, we both survive.  Shock and horror.  Well, Makarov doesn’t know we both survived cause he only thinks I did, but… the second time ?  Your team attacks me and my boys.  You were the only one to survive and be captured.”

 

“We fought for our leader that we believe in!  I fight for Makarov!”  Viktor throws the cup at you, but since it's plastic, it barely bounces off you.   

 

You hold up your hand to stop Ghost and Soap going anywhere near him.  “I’m not saying you didn't believe in him, and I'm sure he believed in you on some level.  I’m just trying to make sense of it.”

 

Viktor is breathing heavily, seething with anger yet thinking about what you are saying.  You finish off the alcohol in your cup and set it off to the side.  

 

“Did he overestimate the ability of your team?  Did he weigh the pros and cons for coming after me a second time?  Did he knowingly send your team on a suicide mission?  If he counted on you being successful, why the fuck didn't he come with?  Instead of supporting his team, he called from a fucking cell phone?  Really?! ”  You wave your hand, shaking your head.  The alcohol may be kicking in, you realize.

 

“There’s just a billion questions about the decision he made, that left him all safe and cozy in whatever fucking foxhole he crawled into, and your team did the dirty work.  Your team needlessly died!  Every single one of them.  For what?  For me ?  He didn't want to kidnap me to see if I had information?  He didn't want to torture me to reveal my secrets?  The only reason he came for me was for revenge?  That doesn't make any fucking sense to me!”

 

You hear Ghost behind you muttering.  “Got a chatty bird on your hands tonight, Johnny”

 

You wanna turn around and tell him off.  Instead you give Ghost the finger while not even looking, keeping your eyes on the prisoner, shifting where you are sitting to bring back some blood flow to your limbs.  “I'm actually really curious about it, cause the only thing I can think of is you somehow pissed Mak off, and he wanted you and your team to be massacred, so he sent you on a fool's mission.”

 

“He would not hesitate to put bullet in head if I did betray.”  Viktor crosses his arms, going back to rocking side to side.

 

“If he did somehow come here and rescue you, would he put one in anyway for failing the mission?”

 

Viktor is filled with rage, but he stays quiet, thinking hard about your words.

 

“Look.”  You sit up a little straighter, running a hand through your hair.   “Vik… Viktor.   I'm trying to help you out here.  I know that's stupid.  Should I have just shot you in the head from the beginning?  I'on fuckin’ know.  You wouldn't have hesitated to fuckin’ do it to me. It would have kept you from the misery you are dealing with right now.  Should I feel even a teeny tiny bit sorry for you?  Abso-fucking-lutely not!  But ya wanna know the thing that really, really chaps my ass?  I feel fucking sorry for you!”

 

Viktor remains quiet for a moment, as if contemplating your words.  Eventually shaking his head at you.  “I almost kill you.  You feel sorry for me?  And they treat me like the crazy one!”

 

“Yeah, I know, it doesn't make any fucking sense, but I don't usually make sense.  But listen.  Listen Viktor.  I wanna help you.  I really fucking do.  So if you help me out?  I promise I will do everything I can to make sure you get a chance for some quality alone time with Makarov.”

 

His eyes almost lit up at that prospect.  “Alone?”

 

You nod, grabbing his cup that he threw at you and add a small amount to it, setting it within his reach once again.  “Alone.  And maybe… say thank you to Maka-moo personally.”  

 

Doing an absolute horrible impression with a Russian accent, you tell him,  “‘Zank you Vladimir for sending my team out on mission.  Zank you for come rescue me.  Ah ah ah!”

 

Wait, that last part is Count from Sesame Street… eh, same thing

 

“Thank him personal?  In cell with?”  Viktor scratches at his face, a decent beard starting to form over his once clean shaven face.

 

“How about this.  You think about it.  But the offer isn't on the table for long.  And if you don't say yes tonight then I'm out.  I can't help you beyond tonight.  So please.  Please please please.  Help me out here.  So I can help you out.”

 

As Viktor empties his glass for the last time, he slowly nods at you.

 

“Awesome.  Very awesome.  You wanna talk to Laswell.  Amazing woman.  You’ll like her.  Or, you should like her, cause she kinda holds your golden ticket to a bunch of perks and stuffs.  Bit of a hard ass, but she's a damn good woman.”

 

You finally start getting yourself off of the floor, slow and steadily so you don't keel over.  You get upright, but Ghost and Soap are  both ready to catch you.  You wave them off, because you aren’t drunk enough for that.  Little buzzed, but still capable of taking care of yourself.

 

You lean down and pick up the bottle, holding it up.  “I’ll leave this with Laswell.  And if you really help us out?  Like, everything you say can be certified and intel comes back good?  You will get the rest of the bottle.”  

 

Viktor gets off the floor to stand as well, though he isn’t nearly as sober as you are and sways a bit.  But he does stand straight eventually.  “I get to see you again?”

 

“Of course.  When I leave, I'll see about getting Laswell in here.  As long as what you tell her is good and accurate? I’ll plan a visit again, I promise.  But you need to give everything you know to Laz.”  You smile at him.

 

Viktor stares at you before giving you a nod.  With you giving one in return, you head off to the door, Soap and Ghost right with you, Ghost taking the bottle from your hand.  Soap opens the door, Ghost leading you out and Soap following you.

 

You've barely left the room with the door to the observation opens, Price meeting you out in the hallway, brushing past Ghost to get to you and place both hands on your shoulders, trying not to smile at you openly, but you can see it in his eyes.  “Thank you for participating, love.  You did well in there.”  

 

Gaz makes a very loud entrance into the hallway now, coming towards your little entourage.  “Laswell wants us all back here in thirty.  She's making a plan right now to get in there to talk to him face to face and wants all of us included so we can check intel in real time.”  

 

Price pats you on the shoulders and steps back.  “Right.  Thirty it is then.  Soap, I'm dismissing you from this.  Take her back to your quarters and-”

 

As the door opens once more, Graves looks more than pleased as he enters the hallway now.  “Good, ya'll haven't left yet.”

 

He chuckles awkwardly, placing his hands on his hips.  Apparently this is his shtick.  Act all modest and dopey around you, but also have his hands on his hips to somewhat convey authority.  You'd like it to stop.  

 

“With Laswell conducting the questioning, and all you boys sitting in with her, the General would like your wife to sit in observation, Soap.”

 

“Oh he would?”  You pipe up, smiling at Graves.  “Wow, that's like, so nice of the General to think of me and want me to be a part of this still!”

 

You sounded… sweet.  Sickeningly sweet.  Voice a couple octaves higher, with a little bit of ditzy persona mixed in.  It's not like you.  So unlike you, that you have rendered the entire 141 speechless. 

 

You step closer to Graves, keeping that sweet little smile on your face.  Fawning over him.  “Does that mean you'll be in observation with me… I'm sorry, I don't think I've ever caught your name from anyone?”

 

There.  That cocky smile of his.  The one you would love to stomp off of his face.  “It's uh, Phillip.”

 

“Phillip!  Phil... I like it!”  You look back at your boys, widening your eyes at them to try to convey to them that you cannot believe this asshole, and turn back to Graves.

 

“And yes ma'am, I will be right there next to you while your, uh, boys are in the room with Laswell.”  His gaze moves over you, and you have to try not to react to the absolute uneasy feeling that travels over your spine.

 

“Good!  Awesome, even.  Unfortunately... Phil, right?”  As you keep speaking, your voice drops a little, your smile fades, and your eyes narrow.  “As long as you are in observation?  I won't be.  As long as you are on this base?  I don't want to be anywhere near you.  Now, I can't help that you have to work with my boys.  I will be civil to you in that aspect.  But I want nothing to do with you.  I don't want anything from you.  I don't even want to rely on you for a single thing ever.  Like for example, let's saaaaay... Oh, I dunno, if I was completely on fire, and you were the only one around that could put out the flames?  I hope for my sake it's a quick death.”

 

You push past Graves, not even waiting for a response from him, and head towards the sacred door leading to the outside, slamming it open to get out into the fresh air as quickly as possibly.  Someday you'll have to bake cookies for the poor soldiers who stand guard at the door.  How many times have you burst through the damn thing now?

 

You put some distance between yourself and the building,  stopping and placing your hands on top of your head while you slowly take in a deep breath, then let it out, doing this a few times.  Eyes closed, focusing on filling your lungs and getting back to breathing normally.

 

“Give her a moment, Johnny.”  Ghost must have stopped Soap from rushing you for the time being. 

 

After a few more breaths you drop your arms, placing your hands on your hips, some of the fog clearing before turning to face Soap and Ghost.  “I can’t do that again.  I know I promised him that I would see him again, and I know it’s shitty of me for even making that promise, I was just trying to pull anything and everything I could out of my ass to convince him to talk and I- I just…”  

 

Johnny finally closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight to his chest, burying his face against the top of your head.  “Ye're ok, m'girl.  No more.”

 

You nod while pressing your face into his shoulder and sighing, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as he lightly rubs one hand up and down your back.

 

“What's wrong?”  Price has joined you now.  You wrap your arms tighter around Johnny, not quite wanting to face Price with how you feel.  The alcohol isn't helping you be as brave as you hoped.

 

“She's said ‘uncle’.  We're not putting her through it again.”  You hear Ghost much closer to you now, which you tilt your head just enough to peek at him.  He's looking down at you.  If you didn't know better, he almost looked concerned.

 

“No, not again.  You've done more than enough, Love.”  Price is talking just quiet enough for you to hear.  You let go of Johnny just long enough to turn and hug John, who pulls you in and comforts you, lightly patting your back.  “t's alright.  You did wonderful.”

 

“I haven't done anything yet.”  Pulling away you wipe at your face, clearing up any moisture from tears that have fallen and cross your arms over yourself protectively.  “Not until you get solid intel.  And I'm apologizing now for whatever bullshit the General concocts because of his inability to bully me.”

 

“Don't worry your pretty head about it. We'll handle Shepherd.  Ghost?  Let's see what we can do, yeah?”  Price heads back towards the holding cells building.  

 

Ghost lightly pats your back.  “And you say I'm stone cold, Johnny.”  He chuckles before going off to catch up with Price.

 

Johnny’s arm wraps around your waist as he leads you off towards the barracks.

 

“I shouldn't have said anything to Graves, huh.”  You ask, sounding only slightly guilty.

 

“Wish I was recordin’.  His face was priceless.”  Johnny finally gets you to your room, locking the door once both of you are inside.  “Let's get ye into somethin’ more comfy, lass.”

 

You kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the cot, smirking and raising your arms over your head.  Johnny gives you a very puzzled look.  “What're ye up to?”

 

“You said ‘let's’.  Thought that meant you were helping me.”

 

You bite your lip to stop from laughing when you can visibly see Johnny swallow hard, walking towards you before kneeling in front of you.  “Ye're killin’ me here, princess.”

 

“I'll be a heartbroken widow, but at least you died a very happy man.”

 

“Avoided death this long.  No’ ready to meet my maker anytime soon.”  He sits up on his knees, ever so carefully helping you take off your shirt.  Once it's off you let your arms drop, cradling his face between your hands as you lean into him, kissing his lips ever so gently.

 

Johnny lets out a grumble from deep within his chest, returning your kiss until he leans away from you, sitting back on his haunches.  “As much as I'd love to do all the things to ye that are goin’ through my head… I'd rather wait til ye were in ye’re own frame of mind, princess.”

 

You smile at him, grabbing his hands and squeezing tight.  “One of a hundred reasons I adore you, handsome.”

Chapter 41: Karma

Notes:

I've wrote about 2 chapters before I got to this one. Mostly because after finishing the others, they just didn't feel right for this moment. And they don't feel right for the next one.

So I do have a couple in the can... And they'll be around at some point. But for now, enjoy!

You aren't exactly sure what woke you.

 

Maybe it was the slightly throbbing headache.

 

Maybe it was the cool air touching your bare legs, making you shiver.

 

Maybe it was the Johnny sized void next to you in bed.

 

Or a combination of everything.

 

You found your phone on the bedside table, cursing the brightness of the screen as it lit up to see what information you might find.

 

It was 5:41am.

 

No missed calls.

 

No messages.

 

Not exactly surprising.  The only ones that had your number were Task Force 141 and Laswell.  Price is usually the only one awake about now as it were, and he’d definitely get a hold of Johnny before he would you . 

 

It was honestly more surprising Johnny left without saying a word.  

 

You set your phone back down, just now wondering where the hell your pants went.  You make your way into the bathroom to find the painkillers you still had and take some.  Deciding you were most likely up for the day, you grab some clean clothes and hop into the shower for a good scrub down.

 

You had just put your shirt on when you hear the main door open and shut, Johnny sounding a little worried.  “Hen?”

 

You poke your head out of the bathroom and look at him.  “Right here, Bubbles.”

 

He whips his head to look at you, tension visibly leaving his body.  “Didn’ expect ye to be awake yet.”

 

“Woke up while you were gone.  Couldn't go back to sleep.”  You pull back to disappear into the bathroom again, finishing getting ready for the day while asking again.  “Is everything ok?”

 

“Aye, had to go talk to Price and them for a debrief.  Prisoner's been singin’ a fuckin’ musical, and they've been at it most of the nigh’ checking on the intel.”

 

“Sounds promising.”  You step out of the bathroom fully dressed, hair wrapped in a towel.  He looks down at you and smiles, reaching up and brushing away one tiny strand of hair that's escaped from the wrap.  “Fuckin’ hell if ye're no’ prettier than any sunrise I've ever seen.”

 

The corner of your mouth curls up into a smile, but you drop your head and your eyes to avoid his gaze.  “Now that I call bullshit on.”

 

Johnny steps closer, placing both hands on either side of your head, tilting your face and making you look at him again.  “Ye can call it wha'ever ye wan’, lass.  I'm callin’ it as I see it.

 

He dips his head down and kisses you softly, but you can still feel a sense of urgency behind it.  Eyes rolling shut, you kiss back just as soft, placing your hand around one of his wrists and squeezing gently.

 

When he pulls back he looks down at you, grinning that handsome fucking grin of his that always makes you swoon.  “Everyone's off for the day to get some sleep.  I'm just in charge of morning training.”

 

“I'll come with you.  I need to get out of this room for a bit.”  You reach up and run your fingers through his mohawk, fixing a few parts that have gone askew.  You then slide on a hoodie, grabbing your phone and keys and whatever else you need before following him out the door, lacing your fingers between his as he grabs your hand and leads you towards the gym.

 

---

 

Johnny spent a good part of training heading sparring sessions.

 

Started off with Soap going through lessons with the recruits.  Going through different moves.  Pulling you in as his guinea pig and the both of you going through some different scenarios.  Johnny just plain showing off for some of it.  “And this is when I asked her to marry me!”  after he had you flip him onto his back.

 

It was fun, you had to admit.

 

Then the recruits were paired off and going against one another in a sort of round robin session.  Best of each match moved ahead to the next round, gets paired off, ect.  Last one standing goes against the ultimate target:  Soap MacTavish.

 

Anyone that can best a Sergeant would be top dog of their session of the day.  

 

You drag a couple spare mats to one of the corners and sat down, keeping out of the way of everyone but still being able to watch the action.  

 

You know the rest of The 141 are sleeping, and have been working their asses off through the night with the bullshit with the prisoner, but you felt like you had to at least give them a heads up.

 

---

 

You: Recruit vs Bubbles at end of training today.  In case anyone is awake.  <3

 

---

A few recruits sat in your vicinity as they had lost their matches, making small talk here and there.  You were getting used to some of them by now.  The staring had died down significantly.

 

By the end, it was Johnny against one of the better recruits.  You stood and moved closer to the sparring ring so you could watch them go head to head.  It was honestly fascinating to watch.

 

Just after Soap and the recruit tapped off to begin, someone moved beside you and held a small cup of black coffee in front of you.  You didn't even have to look at them to know who it was standing there.  The arrogance along with the smell of their cologne gave them away immediately.

 

“Good morning, darlin’.  Hope you had some decent sleep.”

 

Mother.  

 

Fucking.  

 

Graves .

 

You shove both hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. refusing to take the cup from him.  Splashing it on his face was very tempting, though.  “Here on planet Earth, no means no, Graves.  And ‘I don’t want to see you’ doesn’t mean ‘try harder’.”

 

He laughs, taking a drink from the cup he tried to hand you.  “Guess I hope you eventually come around and figure out that I really am one of the good guys.”

 

“Lesson two for your visit here to Earth.  Having to convince someone that you are a ‘good guy’ does not a ‘good guy’ make.”  You step closer to the ring, trying to concentrate on Johnny and the recruit, but also so you didn't have to see Graves’ face.

 

Graves moves to stand behind you now, staying quiet for a minute.  “Soap is good at what he does, ain't he?  Training seems to come naturally for him.”  The recruit is under Soap for a brief moment before they flip and get Soap onto the mat, trying to pin him.  Soap slips out of their grasp easily though and moves out of the way.

 

“Seen you in there the other day against Ghost.  Your boys really keep you on your toes, eh?”  Graves is really laying it on thick this morning.  To get under your skin?  Probably.  Is any of this just him being genuine?  Probably not.

 

Graves chuckles.  “Honestly, I never clocked Soap to be the marrying type.  Especially after working with him down in Mexico.  Had quite the reputation there, that’s for sure.”

 

You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him, watching as Soap flips the recruit and gets them on their back, similar to what you did to him earlier.

 

“Though after reading your files, sounds like ya’ll were a match made in heaven.  Both you and your husband seem to run towards danger.   You tried to lure out Makarov, and Soap offered himself up to a Mexican cartel to try to gain favor with their leader.  But you knew about that already, right?”

 

“Already told you they don't clue me in on anything.  Only things I know about you basically came from your own big mouth.”  You bite your lip while watching the recruit doing remarkably well in the spar.

 

“You seriously worry more about their safety than yours?”  Graves has leaned closer to you now.

 

“Yeah.  I do.  Considering they don’t fight based on how many zeros are on a check, or if it’ll clear the bank.”

 

“I'm still under orders when I'm fighting for that paycheck.  So when I was ordered to take that base by any means necessary, I didn't have a choice.  Just so you know, I never wanted to have to kill any of your boys.”

 

“Oh that’s a load of fucking bullshit, and you know it!”  You clench your fists, reminding yourself to keep your voice down.  If Soap hears you, and looks over at the two of you, he’ll lose the match and his shit.  “You enjoyed every second of it.”

 

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, sister.”  Graves hisses into your ear.

 

“You tried to kill my husband and my best friend.  That’s all I need to fucking know about you.”  You finally turn your head, glaring at him.  “The rest doesn’t matter.”

 

“I was ordered t-”

 

“Fuck your orders!  Maybe if you found some fucking morals, I might have been able to fucking like you.”  Soap has the recruit against the mat, and after struggling for a moment he ends up getting the pin and wins the spar.  You clap with the others and start to make your way closer to the mat to congratulate him.

 

Except Graves grabs you by the shoulder to stop you.  “ Maybe before you keep judging me for the things I've done…”  He releases your shoulder, only to find your wrist and grip it so tight it leaves behind his fingerprints, pulling you against his chest.  “...you should learn some things about your husband .”

 

You really shouldn't have done it.

 

Graves was already breaking boundaries by talking to you.  But then he had the fucking audacity to touch you.  First may have been a slip.  The wrist was just stupid of him.

 

And something in you broke.

 

Because instead of pulling yourself out of his grasp, you instead step forward again, as if you are going to rip your hand away from his.

 

And  as you turn back to face him, you rear back your fist and punch him in that stupid arrogant face of his.

 

Graves cries out, his hand flying to his face as blood started seeping slowly from his nostrils.  He stumbled slightly, looking down at his hand as he pulls it away from his face, cursing under his breath.  

 

Before Graves can say or even do anything to you in retaliation, Ghost has him by the throat and is dragging him away from you, Johnny grabbing you and pulling you further away in case you decided to go after Graves again.

 

“Can't just let her alone, can you Graves?!”  Ghost has his back to you, not letting you see anything since he absolutely towers over Graves. 

 

“Wha’ the fuck happened?”  Soap looks you over to see if you were hurt since he didn't know what went on.

 

“I punched Graves…”

 

“Ye did wha’?”  Johnny looks at you, then towards Ghost and Graves, Ghost hauling him out of the gym by his vest.

 

“Fuck I'm sorry, he was talking to me, and I was telling him to fuck off, but then he grabbed me so I just turned and decked him and-”

 

“Oi oi oi, hey, don’ apologize swee’ girl.”  His face sinks as anger starts to settle in on his face as he spots the mark on your wrist from how hard he grabbed you, with you nodding.

 

“Sit tigh’ for me, m’girl.”  He kisses your forehead before turning away.  “Recruits!  On me!”

 

You move away from the impending chaos while Soap talks to the recruits for a bit.  You aren't even listening in, wanting to go dig yourself a hole outside and sit in it a while.

 

You sit on the mats you were on earlier in training, burying your face in your hands while feeling a little embarrassed.  And spiraling.

 

You shouldn't have punched Graves.

 

You're convinced the boys will somehow get punished for it.

 

“Recruits, ye’re back here tomorrow mornin’ at oh-seven-hundred.  Dismissed!”  Johnny waits for most of them to clear out before coming back over to you, kneeling in front of you.  “Few of them are going to send me reports on what happened, they were closest to ye when he grabbed at ye.”  He takes his phone out of his vest and lifts up your hand, taking a few different pictures at different angles.  

 

You nod, though haven’t looked at him since he came back over to you.  “Yeah… Whatever difference that makes.”  You shy away from him, even as he offers a hand to help you stand up.

 

“Oi… ye didn’ do anythin’ wrong, princess.  He got wha’ was comin’ to him.  He’s lucky it was you that hi’ him.  If I’d of hit him, or if Ghost had?  Graves would be layin’ in one of his own.”  Johnny carefully takes your hand, with you letting him this time, following him as he leads you out of the gym.

 

“Le’s get ye checked ou’ with medical, eh?”

 

“Graves will be in there moaning about his face.”

 

“Aye, smar’ thinkin.  Ye’ll go later then, yeah?”

 

You nod, just wanting to get away from everyone and not think about what you did for a moment, unlocking the door and getting inside, tearing off the hoodie and chucking it off into the corner before sitting on the cot with a sigh.

 

Johnny stands there a moment, conflicted about what he should do.  “I uh… have to go deal with them reports.  And see if Price is up, talk to him.  I’ll be back soon though, aye?”

 

You nod, and after he kisses you softly, he leaves you to your own devices.  While you let the guilt eat away and fester a bit.

 

You wait a few minutes, fishing your phone from the discarded hoodie and turning down the volume before setting it on the desk.  You then find your keys and step out of the room, locking the door behind you and going to your room next door, locking it once inside and flopping yourself onto your cot.

 

You just want to be left alone.  For however long that may be before Johnny comes and finds you.  But for now, you wrap yourself tightly in a blanket, pulling it up over your head but leaving enough of a face hole to breathe.  

 

And fall asleep.

Notes:

Graves got less than he deserves.

But it's something I personally have wanted to do since he tried to merc our boy... Ok, before that even, but arrrgh!

Chapter 42: Perfect

Notes:

42

The chapter we are at

The answer to the ultimate question of life

The answer to the universe

The answer to everything

…or something like that

This wasnt a planned thing

It was a “Oh wow, we're 42 chapters into this. Wait, how are we 42 chapters into this?!"

I've never attempted anything like this chapter before, soooooo….. Oh hey, what's that over there?

-tosses chapter into the ether and runs-

*updated tags.

*never tried to write anything like this. I'm sorry, and/or you're welcome?

Recruit reports, talking to Ghost, waking up Gaz since he missed everythin’, going to Price and informin’ him of everythin’ that happened.  And makin’ a plan with him going forward.

 

All took longer than I anticipated.

 

Got to watch the video feed from the gym.  Heard him harassing you.  Saw ye punch him.  Fuck it was hot.  We've all wanted to do it since Mexico.  Was almos’ disappointed to see ye didn' break his fuckin’ nose.

 

For now, he hasn’ gone to the General.  Probably too fuckin’ embarrassed.  As he fuckin’ should be.

 

Jus’ happy it's all done with, have the rest of the day to…  “Hen?”

 

Ye're no’ in our room?

 

Maybe ye wen’ off with… Better try calling ye.  Why do I hear… ye left ye're phone?  

 

Really, hen?!

 

Why would ye…

 

Alrigh’... think.  Maybe she… call Simon, maybe he knows.

 

“Ghost, have ye heard from the lass?”

 

“Not since I hauled Graves away.”

 

“I'd left her in our room, bu’ she’s no’ here.

 

“You check medical?”

 

“ She wouldn’ go ‘cause of Graves.”

 

“You call her mobile?”

 

“She’s lef’ it on the desk.  Lef’ her hoodie, too.  Don’t see her keys.”

 

“What about that other room?”

 

“Now why would she be in there?”

 

“Been having a hard go as of late.  Bet she's trying to isolate herself.”

 

“How do ye figure?”

 

“I would.”

 

“She's nothin’ like ye, Ghost.”

 

“Right, she’s better than me.”

 

“Fuck… alrigh’, I'll check.  Call me if there's any news, aye?”

 

“Solid copy.”

 

Hated to admit Ghost was probably righ’.

 

Ever so quietly I use the spare key and unlock the door.  So, so slowly open it, just in case.  Didn’ see nothin’ but a lump of blankets on the cot.

 

Was abou’ to shut the door and call Ghost back, but I saw the blankets move.

 

Oh, my swee’ girl...

 

Lock the door, carefully check on ye, send a text to Ghost, and remove my vest, boots, and spar gear, and my shirt after a sniff test before finally sinking onto the cot behind ye.

 

Probably should've showered first.  Ye'll forgive me.

 

M'girl.

 

My swee’ beau’iful sexy girl.

---

You didn't fall into a deep sleep right away.  Every little noise just had you on edge.

 

Especially if anyone happened to walk past the door.

 

You'd talked yourself out of going back to your room and grabbing some of Johnny's knives to protect yourself.  Last thing you needed was someone seeing you.  And you just needed to be left alone.

 

Eventually your brain shut down so it didn't think about anything and let you sleep.

 

You needed it after Graves and his bullshit this morning.

 

Didn't seem like it was very long until alarm bells start going off in your head.

 

Something feels different.  A disturbance in the space around you.

 

It's so much warmer than it was a minute ago.

 

Your body jerks as you open your eyes, becoming aware of the arm around you and pulling you close, the breath against your neck, the light kisses here and there.  You are still at the cusp of slipping into fight or flight mode, and he must have sensed it.

 

“Shh it's ok, swee'hear’.”  He pulls you tightly against himself, reassuring you as you puff out the breath you didn't realize you had held in.  “Jus’ me, beau'iful.”

 

Johnny…

 

“Fuck… Sorry…”  You aren't sure what you are apologizing for just yet, but you offer it anyway, pressing yourself against him as you stretch a little.

 

“No sorries, princess.”  He kisses up and down the back of your neck a few more times as you let out a content sigh.  You'll let it go… for now.

 

“How'd you find me?”  You ask with a yawn, placing a hand on his arm that's wrapped around you and rubbing it lightly.

 

“A very carefully though’ out process of elimination to declare where ye'd gone off to so ye could calm down and relax.”

 

“Simon figured it out, didn't he?”

 

He chuckles and releases a sigh against the back of your neck, kissing it again and giving it a nibble.  “Yes, bu’ I helped!”

 

You snicker as you turn yourself over so you can face him, bringing your hand up and placing it on his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek sleepily.  Johnny tilts his head to kiss your hand, eyes looking into yours while he kisses up towards your wrist, and up your arm, to your lips, needily kissing you while rolling you onto your back, crowding himself on top of you, pulling your arms around his neck as you start returning his kisses, even moving your legs so he can lay between them.

 

“Mmm…  where’s your shirt, mister?”  You slide your arms around his neck a little more to keep him closer.  Not that you minded him shirtless.  Curiosity is all.

 

“Haven’ showered yet after trainin’.  Shirt off is… for the best of both of us.”  Johnny tilts his head and sinks his teeth into your skin where your neck and shoulder meet, huffing a laugh into it as he leaves you gasping.  “Still can’ believe ye punched Graves.”  He goes back to his needy kisses, chuckling along with your quiet moans before you can even apologize again.  “Don’ ye dare, he had it comin’.  We pulled the security feed to see it happen.  Ye've no idea how fuckin’ sexy tha’ was to watch.  Kept replayin’ it.”

 

Your face reddens.  “Didn't feel sexy doing it, babes.  He just… it was just…”

 

Johnny's lips are on yours again with a frustrated growl, reaching down and pulling your knee up to rest on his hip.  “Don’ think about anythin’ ye don' need to.  Jus’ wanna hear ye, pre'ty girl.”  He starts kissing over your cheek, across your forehead, and down the other side of your face, coaxing a few giggles out of you.

 

What’s got into him?  He’s never been so… soooo…

 

You remove your arms to grab his face to stop the onslaught for a moment, hovering his face over yours.  “Wait, did watching me punch him really get you this worked up?”  

 

“Ye kiddin’ me?  Completely bricked.  Was hard as hell walkin’ out of Price's office.  Think ye turned him and Gaz both on from tha’ punch.”  Johnny dodges your hands to lean down and plant loud, wet kisses over your neck, coaxing some giggles from you.

 

“Oh ha ha, now you’re just fucking with me.”  

 

“Tryin’ to if ye'll le’ me.”

 

You laugh as you reach down and tickle at his sides to get him to stop, but he quickly grabs your wrists and holds them against the cot to keep going, except the slight hiss you give him makes him stop immediately and lift his head.

 

“Wha’ happened?  I hur’ ye?”  He lifts himself off of you to see where you were injured, with you shaking your head at him.

 

“Not you, babes.”  You bring your hand up out of the blanket to see your wrist covered in a bruise that would perfectly fit the grasp of a certain Commander.

 

Johnny slips his hand into yours and carefully lifts to inspect the bruise, his face hardening.  You shake your head, grabbing him by the chin and kissing him gently.  “Nuh uh, you said no talking about it.”

 

Johnny grumbles, but kisses you back a few times before burying his face into your neck again, running his tongue over it and getting you to giggle more, your arms going back around his neck like before.  

 

Johnny comes up for air after a minute, moving your leg off and hoisting himself up onto knees before working on his belt, unclasping it and shucking off his pants to kick them off the cot and crowd over you again to place his lips back to yours.

 

“Ummm excuse you sir, but why have you lost your pants?”  You chuckle against his lips while trying to keep up with kissing him back.

 

You’d swear you felt Johnny tremble after calling him ‘sir’.  “They were in the way and no’ comfortable.  Plus I go’ ye to keep me nice and warm in the mean time.  Ye know, in.survival situations, ye're supposed to ge’ naked and cuddle up close.”  He flashes that cocky little grin that always makes you weak in the knees as he crowds himself on you again.  “We should get ye're clothes off to share body heat.”

 

You grin back at him.  “Is the naked thing actually a thing?”

 

“Aye.  If someone's comin’ down hypothermic, best way to warm ‘em back up is body heat.  And bein’ naked is even’ better.”  With his lips on yours, you can feel him carefully pulling at your shirt before stopping abruptly to look into your eyes.  “Can I take ye're shirt off, princess?”  

 

“Shouldn't you at least be taking me out to dinner first before you take my clothes off?

 

“Promise ye we'll go out to hundreds of dinners when this is over and we can fuckin’ ge’ ou’ of here.”

 

You bite your lip in contemplation.  Besides the other day, he hasn't really seen you without a shirt on.  Or pants.  Especially so up close and personal.  Last time he was distracted, but now… there's also that part of your brain screeching at you about how  ‘he did a hell of a lot less than take someone out to dinner and got their clothes off a lot faster, why makes you so fucking special to demand more than that?’

 

You nod quickly, thinking if he does it fast enough you can get the voice to shut the hell up and you can maybe get ahead of the anxious feelings pooling in your stomach.

 

“Need ye're words, swee'hear’.”

 

“Yes.”  You're then helping him bring it up and over before he tosses it to live with his pants.

 

His leans down and peppers your skin with his lips, lingering in some places longer to nibble and suck, making you shiver.  He tosses the blanket off his head to get a better look at you.  “The leggin's, too?”  

 

“Shirt and leggings?  Askin’ a lot from me, aren't ya?”

 

“Takin’ everythin’ I can from ye, as long as ye'll le’ me.  Though I wouldn’ mind if ye gave even more and had on even less.”  He waggles his eyebrows at you.

 

Fuck…  looking as good as he does should be criminal…

 

“Fine.  Take the leggings, ya weirdo.”  You snicker and watch as he disappears under the blanket, with you lifting your hips and then your legs when he starts tugging and peeling your leggings down and off of you before he crawls back up, lips and tongue on you again.  

 

“Jus’ remember, lass.  I'm ye're weirdo.”

 

You giggle.  “So do I even ask if you've had to warm up any of the bo-”  You giggle against Johnny's hand after it shoots up and covers your mouth.

 

“Don’ ye dare finish tha’ question, m'girl.”  He's trying not to laugh with you before trailing his lips down your body again, ghosting right over the tops of the cups of your bra.  “Fuckin’ hell, ye're absolutely beau’iful, princess.

 

You reach down and run your fingers through his mohawk making him groan appreciatively.  “I'm a gremlin in a human vessel, Bubbles.  You, on the other hand, may as well be a fucking Adonis.”

 

“Don’ go comparin’ nobody to nothin’, m'darlin’.  But if gremlin is how ye wanna go, it's no’ past midnight, so I get to make ye as wet as I wan’.”

 

Oh my God he didn't just say that…  

 

Johnny sits on his knees again before tossing the blanket off completely, exposing you to the slight chill of the room and making a shiver roll through your body as your skin covers itself with goosebumps.  “I mean it, ye're jus’... Everythin’ abou’ ye, I can’ ever ge’ my fill of ye.”

 

You wanna joke and tell him Stockholm Syndrome is a bitch.  That once he has a moment to just be away from you for a while, everything he feels about you will vanish.  The codependency between the two of you is definitely not healthy, and again, once he's had a chance to be away from you that will end for him too.  How you have literally helped him bring home people a billion times more attractive than you.  That as soon as he fucks you, he'll finally get over the infatuation he has with you and be able to move on to the next.  Just another notch on that bed post.  

 

You snap out of your thoughts when Johnny's face comes into focus, nose to nose with you as those baby blues of his stare right into yours.  “If it takes me the res’ of our lives for me to get it into tha’ pre’ty li’tle head of ye'rs to prove it to ye, then ye be'ter buckle in, m'darlin’ girl.  We go’ a lot of time ahead of us.”

 

You quietly stare into his eyes for a moment before you lift your head to kiss him lightly, though each kiss he gives you after gets deeper and deeper, his hands down in your hips and squeezing tightly with every quiet moan coaxed from you spurring him on.

 

“I'll never get tired of hearin’ the sounds you make, pre’ty girl.  All of them, jus’ for me.”  Johnny suddenly wraps an arm under you and hooks his other under your leg while he flips the pair of you, making you squeal out in surprise as he’s laying flat on his back now with you on top of him, you quickly shifting to sit on his thighs while looking down at him and blushing with you being more exposed.

 

“Ye know, I don’ think I was lyin’ earlier about this bein’ when I ask ye to marry me, lass.”  That grin of his plastered on his face is enough to make you blush harder.

 

You roll your eyes at him, exasperated while bringing a hand up to try to hide how red your face is getting.  “Such a romantic, Johnny.  Sure you don't want to pop the question while you're in me instead?”  

 

He somehow grins even wider, arms going around your waist and pulling you higher up on his body, leaving them in place for now to keep you from moving.  “Don’ give me ideas ye'll end up regrettin’, princess.”

 

“That was definitely a joke, babes.”  You try to settle on him, which isn't all that easy… considering Johnny's growing erection.  And the dampening of your panties.

 

“Ruin my fun, why don’ ye.”  He stares up at you, eyes running up and down your body.  “Ye're just so fucking perfect, ye know tha’?”  One hand releases your hip, pushing himself up onto an elbow while his other hand finds the back of your neck to pull you into yet another kiss.

 

The moan that escapes your lips coaxes one of his own, running his tongue over your bottom lip until you part your lips as permission, letting his tongue claim your mouth.

 

Barely a moment passes before he's  pulling away and flipping you onto your back again, getting in between your legs to grind his dick against your sopping wet panties. 

 

“Fuck, Johnny.”  Kissing him again and again, harder, deeper than ever before, running your tongue across his lips as you let out a moan from deep in your chest, surprising even you.

 

“Hells bells swee'hear’, never heard ye make tha’ sound before.”  He starts kissing down your chin, across your jawline, nibbles your ear lobe, then starts his descent down your neck towards your chest.  “Please hen, can we take off ye're bra?” 

 

Is this real life?  Is this real right now?  Is this actually happening?  Should this even be happening?!  Christ…

 

Change is hard.  Change is scary.  Change can be the best thing in the world or the worst thing on the planet.  And you are still afraid of everything changing between the two of you.

 

You love him.  You are in love with this man.  And something going wrong between you would just break your heart into a million pieces.

 

Johnny doesn't want you to think.  And right now you can't help it, that voice in the back of your head screaming at you the whole time.

 

You arch your back and get your hands under you to unclasp it for him, letting him take over to slide the straps off your shoulders and move them down your arms.  From the sound he made, you'd think he already came just from seeing your tits.

 

“Perfect.  Absolutely fucking perfect.”  He starts from where he left off, kissing further down as your nipples get harder, almost painfully so.  They were already hard from the cold air of the room, but they could cut diamonds because of Johnny.

 

He kisses one nipple, then the other, rolling his tongue over it, breath quickening, gasping even while dragging your fingernails through his mohawk and making him moan against your skin.

 

His lips make it to the valley between your tits and he starts kissing his way down again, lingering before getting up on his knees before crawling back up in between your legs, looking into your eyes while playing with your hair..  “How're ye just so…  perfect?  And beau’iful?”

 

You tilt your head while looking up at him, fighting the urge to roll your eyes up at him.  “You keep using that word.  I don't think it means what you think it means.”

 

“Look it up in a dictionary, m'girl.  Pic of ye is next to it, ‘cause everything about ye is perfect.  From the very top of ye're head, down to the tips of ye're toes.”

 

“You're a really shitty liar, Bubbles.”

 

“No.  No more of tha’, hen”.  He lays himself over you, supporting himself to not put his whole body weight on you, resting his forehead against yours.  “Ye need to accept the fact I mean everythin’ I say.  And I'm tellin ye… ye're fuckin’ gorgeous, m'girl.”

 

He shifts to kiss over your neck, softly licking over it before sinking his teeth in and making you gasp in surprise, fingernails digging into his sides.  He pulls back to admire his work, having left a shiny streak on your skin leading to the bright red marks of his teeth on you.  “Migh’ just have to leave marks like tha’ all over ye, swee'hear’.  Make sure everyone knows ye're mine.”

 

Moving down the cot, he starts sucking and nibbling over your breasts again, fingers ghosting down your stomach and tickling you for a quick second before running down over your panties.  When he feels just how wet you are, he takes a nipple into his mouth while slipping his hand underneath and dragging his fingers through your slick, grinning as you let out gasping and trembling breaths underneath him  “All of this because of me, babydoll?”

 

A whimper escapes you before you can stop it, egging him on further by sliding a finger inside you, a shiver running through your entire body as you dig your nails into his biceps, panting and keening when his thumb starts rolling over your clit.  You release one hand to move down and rub him through his boxers.  The front of his them are almost soaked through, and while you run your fingers over him he rocks against your hand, every thrust forward making him kiss you.

 

“Haven’ even had me inside ye, and ye're already abou’ to cum for me, aren’ ye swee'hear?  Fuck, tha's sexy.”  He reaches down and grabs your hand, pulling it away from him and holding it next to your head while slotting his hard dick between your lower lips and catching the tip against your clit every time he grinds into you “Cum for me hen, let me feel m'girl.”

 

“Oh f-fu-fuck, Johnny!” You press your face into his neck, keeping your lips pressed together and against his skin as you finally fall off edge, letting him feel your screams, every part of him feeling so good against you, every part of you tingling and shaking, your knees slotting into his hips and holding yourself tight against him, arms around his shoulders like you are trying to pull him into a crushing hug, cunt pulsing around nothing and wishing you had every bit of him inside you.

 

Coming down from your high, your panting against his skin before he shifts and takes your lips with his while he shifts his legs and tilts his hips against yours tighter.  “Tha's it, swee’ thing.  Such a good girl f'me, ye know tha’?  Need ye t'do tha’ again for me.  Need to feel all of ye this time, princess.”

 

Johnny pulls away, reaching over toward the top drawer of the table next to the cot before he freezes,fingers resting on the knob to open it.

 

It takes you a moment to realize what he's looking for.  And what he was looking for wasn't in here.  You'd found them the very first day, within the very first day of you being in his room and deciding to snoop around against all better judgment.

 

The box of condoms in the nightstand.

 

You think you see just about every stage of grief flash across his face right before he buries his face against your neck and lets out a very frustrated sigh before mumbling against it.  “Forgo’ we're no’ in our room.”

 

Oh honey…

 

“Would this be a bad time to bring up my birth control?”

 

Ever so slowly he's pushing himself off of you, hovering while studying your face, with a very confused look on his.  “Since when has tha’ been a thing?”

 

You shrug up at him.  “A while?  It just helps with keeping things regulated.  And suppresses the urge to go on a murderous rampage whilst making a sacrifice to the blood gods.”

 

That gets a laugh out of him, shaking his head while looking down at you.  “Sad par’ is, I believe ye.”

 

You reach up and play with his mohawk, smiling up at him.  “We can always wait, babes.”

 

He leans in to lightly ghost his lips over yours with a kiss.  “Do you wanna wait?”

 

You kiss him back with a quiet moan.  “I'm letting you decide.”

 

He groans and kisses you harder.  “Fuckin’ need ye, beau'iful.  Don’ wanna wai’.  Don’ wanna stop.”

 

You kiss back just as hard, shifting under him and lifting your hips just enough to slide your panties down, taking your hands away once he realizes what you are doing and letting him take them off the rest of the way, helping him slide his boxers down off of his hips and off completely.

 

“Good, ‘cause I really fucking need you right now.”  Once his boxers are gone you slip your hand between you and carefully wrap your hand around him, stroking over his entire length.

 

“Fuckin’ hell, no’ gonna last long if ye keep tha’ up, babydoll.”  He rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut tight and brow furrowed, growling to try to distract himself for as long as he can hold out before he reaches down and grabs himself, squeezing himself before shifting his hips forward, the tip of him catching onto your clit, making you let out a high pitched shriek, his hand coming up and clamping down on your mouth while easing you back, starting to press into you which makes your hips shift to help him slide I ever so slowly, letting out aow and drawn out moan against his hand.  “Tha's it, tha's it, pre'ty girl, take me baby girl.”

 

You shift your hips even more, bringing one leg up and wrapping it around his hip, his arm slotting under your other leg bringing it up towards your chest when he bottoms out, not moving at first so you can get used to the stretch, panting into his hand.

 

“Shit honey, ye feel amazin’ .  Shoulda been doin’ this sooner, swee'hear’.”  He takes his hand off your mouth to replace it with his lips, kissing you deeply, passionately while moving his legs to sit up into his knees to get better leverage, every thrust he goes forward rubbing your clit.

 

“Fuckin’ hell, ye're stunnin’ like this  Gonna need ye under me like this more often, darlin’ girl.”

 

“Wouldn't mind having you under me-e-e- e-e!  Johnny-y-y-y-y!”   He catches your lips with his again, kissing you through another orgasm, letting go of your leg to slip between you and rub your already overly stimulated clit while he goes faster.

 

“‘M gonna cum for ye, hen, need ye m'girl, need to cum righ’ with ye, fuckfuck fuckfuck!”  Slamming himself in and out of you until his hips start to falter, you grab his neck and kiss him through it until he pulls away, pressing your hand over his mouth while you bite down on his shoulder to keep quite, his own orgasm finally taking him, pulling out and getting most of his spend on your stomach and thighs before he collapses on top of you, both of you a panting, sweaty, sticky mess, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him in place, letting go of his mouth so you can slip both hands through his mohawk while he presses into your neck, breathing heavy while calming down.

 

“Sorry… jus’ couldn'... Last wit’ ye.”

 

“Oh shush, you were good… we're good…”  you kiss whatever parts of his face that you can reach before laying your head back, closing your eyes while catching your breath.

 

“Next round I'll take ye proper.  Take m'time wit’ ye.  Treat ye like the princess ye are.”  He starts lifting off you, looking down at you, so sweet and content.

 

You smile up at him.  Not telling him what might be lolling around in that head of yours, despite it being completely without thought just a few moments ago.  “Good, cause I'll have to give you the Godly treatment next time.

 

If there is a next…

 

Johnny's phone starts blaring from somewhere in the room.  The frustrated noise he makes is adorable while he leans over and grabs his pants from the floor, pulling out his phone and answering it.  “MacTavish.  Aye.  When?  Right.  Yeah, she's with me.  Aye.  I'll le’ her decide.  Aye.”

 

He ends the call, brow furrowed and looking at you again.  “Meeting with Price.  Asked if ye wanted to come.”

 

“Already did.  Twice.”  You grin up at him while he flashes your favorite grin down at you, leaning to kiss you softly.  

 

“We should uh… clean up.”

 

“Mhmm.  Really wish we had bigger showers in this joint.”

 

“The communal has room, but uh… no’ much privacy.”

 

“Oh god, that'd be hell to try to navigate.” You tilt and kiss him.  “Let me rinse off quick, and while you get in the shower, I can sneak over and get you clean clothes?”

 

“Ye'd do tha’?”

 

“Duh, not going to make you strut around in your training gear.”

 

“Ye're good to me, princess.”

 

You giggle, brushing it off.  “You'd do the same for me.  Should probably shower, feels like your cum is turning into super glue.”

 

“Wouldn’ mind bein’ glued to ye.  Leas’ I'll have a beau'iful lady by my side.”  He laughs while climbing off of you, pulling you up and off the for and leading you both into your bathroom to start cleaning up.

 

“You go to the meeting without me, just tell me the deets when you get back?”

 

“‘Course, sweet'hear’.  Just no runnin’ off this time, aye?”

 

“Like I can get far from you, anyway.  But I won't.  Promise.”

Notes:

Don't forget to bring a towel!

 

I didn't really proofread this as much as I like to, but wanted to get this out there so I can work on some other things.

Not one of the planned chapters I had written out. But being chapter 42, it felt right.

Chapter 43: More Pep Talk(s)

Notes:

Like I said for last chapter: I'm sorry/you're welcome!

Another chapter for those of you chomping on the bars of your cage because of how feral you are for these boys.

Hell, I'm feral for these boys, and they live in my head.

“Gonna to be late to the meeting, Bubbles.”

 

“Don’ care.  Don’ wanna go.”

 

“Well too bad, you need to before Gaz or Ghost come to drag you away.”

 

“They can try.  They'll no’ ge’ me to leave ye.”

 

“Oooor you go, get it over with, and get back here?”

 

“Ye're no fun when ye're bein’ reasonable.”

 

“I know, I'm such a bitch.”

 

“Horrible wife.  Should divorce ye before ye corrupt the bairn”

 

“Lucky for us, it’ll be a while before I have any ‘bairn’.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

You give him a dramatic eye roll and push him up off you, him finally relenting but not without stealing another kiss.

 

A conversation to be had later.

 

You'd made it back to yours and Johnny's room, after getting him his clothes and shower things, and after hearing him complain about the water pressure, and about how he didn't wanna leave you alone.  Especially now.  He'd tackled you onto the cot as soon as you stepped beyond the threshold.

 

“You need to gooooo .”

 

“Ye sure ye don’ wanna come wit’?”

 

“Very.  You better get moving.”

 

He reaches over and softly places a finger under your chin, tilting it up before kissing you.   “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

 

You kiss him back and smile.  “You'll be back sooner if you move your ass, Mr. MacTavish.”

 

One last kiss and he's out the door, with you locking it behind him with a sigh.

 

I've created a monster.  Give a Soap a cookie, he'll take the whole factory.

 

You end up in the bathroom, turning on the light to inspect the damage he did to you earlier.

 

And holy crap, there was… a lot .

 

Your neck was red in some places, but mostly purple splotches.  You can't even begin to figure out how the hell you are going to cover any of it beyond wearing a turtleneck for a while.

 

Putting your hoodie back on covers most of your neck, but there's still splotches that peek above the fabric.  Pulling it higher on your neck covers it only slightly better.

 

While you inspect yourself further, there’s a knock on your door.  Odd, because all the boys are supposed to be with Price.

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Gaz.”

 

You immediately unlock and open the door for him, returning a smile at him.  “What's up, buttercu-”

 

“Bloo-dy hell , what happened to you ?”

 

You drop the smile, frowning.  “Well damn, nice to see you too, Kyle.”  You take a few steps back as he comes into the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

He reaches over, pulling down the fabric of your hoodie and tilting your chin up to get a better look at your neck.  “Is that from Graves?”

 

You reach up and flick his wrist away.  “No, and you’d know that if you'd been there, Sleeping Beauty.”

 

“I was up all night, thank you very much.”  He yawns as he says it, like you just reminded him he was running on a half tank as it is.

 

“I know, and I appreciate the hell out of you boys for doing so.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Of course I do, ya goober.  I appreciate all you guys, you're the ones doing the hard work.  I owe you about a hundred meals by now as a thank you the moment I can get my hands on a stove.”

 

Gaz moves and sits at the desk chair, watching you.  “You really do care about us, don't ya.”

 

You frown slightly, moving over to stand in front of him and putting your hands on your hips.  “Seriously?  After all these years, you doubt me?  You're my best friend, Kyle.”

 

“Thought Simon was your best friend.”

 

Ooooh…  Right, told Graves just as much.

 

You smile and move closer, sitting on his leg and wrapping an arm around his neck.  “Is my Gazzy wazzy a little jelly welly?”

 

You manage to coax a smile out of him.  “Not ‘jelly welly'.”

 

“Good.  You, John, Simon, and Johnny are all my best friends, ya know.  If I haven't made that clear by now, I'm sorry.”

 

“Admit I'm your favorite and we'll be squared.”

 

You lightly thump him on the shoulder.  “You can't make me tell you that, that's like asking your mum who her favorite child is.”

 

“My mum'd never admit I was her favorite.”

 

“Well no shit, you never admit to your kids you have a favorite, let alone tell the favorite they are the favorite.”

 

“Does that mean I’m your favorite?”  He gives you such a cheeky grin.  

 

“No, it means you are my best friend, though you teeter extremely close to being more like an annoying brother sometimes.”

 

“So Soap’s the favorite?”  He reaches up and pulls down the neck of your hoodie again, stifling a laugh.

 

“Not telling you shit now, Garrick.  Maybe you should be telling me why you aren't in the meeting with the guys?”  You stand up off his lap and move to the cot, sitting on the edge and looking at him.

 

His smile fades a little, and he takes his hat off his head and scrunching it.

 

Exit Kyle, entire Serious Gaz.

 

“Some of the information our new friend gave us was solid.  Satellite and drone-”

 

“No details, Gaz.  Please.”

 

Kyle sighs at you, almost giving you a pained look as he finally nods, straightening his hat out and placing it back on his head.

 

“Something I can tell you.  We're heading out on mission.  Price and Ghost are filling Soap in on intel right now.”

 

“Ok.”

 

Gaz tilts his head and watches you closely.  “Ok?”

 

You tilt your head the opposite direction of him.  “Is that not ok?”

 

“It's just… why did I think you'd be more…”

 

“Upset?”

 

He doesn't look exactly proud of himself when he nods.

 

“Sweetie, I've had years of practice with this.  The upset part comes later.”

 

“What'dya mean?”

 

“...Not important.”

 

“But-”

 

“You guys are shipping out, so you have enough intel to go off of.  Good.  But why are you prepping me for this?”

 

“We may need your help.”

 

“Kyle, I swear on your mum-”

 

“Help with Soap, miss.  Price is worried about how he might take the news.”

 

“Oh.  Well.  Soap's a big boy, he's been on mission since the Makarov bullshit.”

 

“Not since Graves rocked up and pissed all over the base to mark his territory.”

 

“Right… that… I’ll give Price a list of recruits I'd trust to stay close.  Unless Graves is going with you?”

 

“Undecided.”

 

“‘Course.  How silly of me to think otherwise.”  You roll your eyes, placing your elbows on your knees while your hands go to your forehead, rubbing at your temples for a moment, then fold your hands and place them under your chin, looking at Gaz again, sighing before giving him a smile.  “Doesn’t matter.  No sense in obsessing over it right now, I’ll deal with it when the time comes.”

 

“Soap might think otherwise.”

 

“And he’ll have to get his head in check.  Just like you, Simon, and John have to.  Or we lie through our fucking teeth and not give him a choice.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Put me somewhere until after you leave.  Tell him Laswell took me off base to some safe house to keep me out of harm's way.  Give us a chance to say goodbye quick, and one of you escorts me away under the guise of taking me to Laswell, but tucks me away otherwise.”

 

Gaz nods, standing finally.  “I’ll run it by the boss.”

 

You stand too, pulling him into a hug and hanging on tight for a minute.  “In case I don’t get to say it again.  Be safe.  And bring your butt back here in one piece?”

 

Gaz chuckles and hugs you, patting your back.  “Wouldn’t have it any other way, little miss.”

 

“Good.  You better get going before Price has an aneurysm.  I’ll start getting Johnny’s things rounded up.”

 

Gaz finally lets you go, nodding at you before disappearing out the door.  

 

Well.. fuck… guess this is where we’re at right now.

 

You take Johnny’s bags out from under his cot, unzipping every pocket and collecting what you know he usually takes and setting them out for him to streamline his packing a little, whenever he gets back.  For good measure, you pull out your own bag and pack your essentials inside of it, just in case the Laswell lie goes through. 

 

---

You are shoving the last of your things into your bag when you hear several heavy footsteps moving down the hallway.  You can almost feel the tension in the air as they get closer to your door, keys jumbling and trying to get it unlocked.  For now you pay it no mind, occupying yourself with getting your bag to actually zip up.  

 

You may have gone overboard in packing it to make it more convincing.  But it still has all the essentials and things you would normally have packed as if you were planning on going somewhere off base. The more Johnny believes it the better.  

 

“ Wai’ ou’ here, lemme tal’ to her.”  You assume Johnny is talking to the boys before he slams the door shut and flips the lock.  You barely have time to stand up fully from being bent over your bag before his arms are around your waist, pulling you back against him while he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

 

“Hey, sunshine.”  You reach back and lightly place a hand on his neck, rubbing gently.   

 

“Gaz really did tell ye?”

 

“Mmmhmm.  I got your stuff laid out and organized.  I decided it’s better if you pack it, then you’ll know if I forgot something.”

 

“Ye’re too good to me, hen.”  He shifts so he can nuzzle the fabric of your hoodie down further, pressing his face into your skin.

 

“Yeah well, I try sometimes.”  You tilt and kiss the side of his head, right over the gnarly scar he earned from the bullet Makarov gave him.  “If you have time, I’ll even give you that haircut I’ve been meaning to give you for ages.”

 

“Don’ have to.”  

 

“ How long til you move out?”

 

“Leave in four hours.”

 

“See?  Plenty of time.  How about we start off with getting something to eat, cause I’m pretty sure none of you boys have had anything yet today.  Ok?”  

 

“Scratch tha’.  Too good to us , hen.”  He slides his arms around your tighter

 

“Like I said, babes.  I try.”  You shift the both of you and open up the door, smiling up at Simon and Kyle.  “You boys wanna join us and try to scrounge up something for lunch?”  

 

“Already feels like we’re interrupting something, Dove.”  Simon can try to hide that smirk behind his mask all he wants, you can still tell it’s there.

 

“Oh please, like you’ve never interrupted anything before.”  You get Johnny to move his feet with you as you walk, grabbing your keys and locking the door behind you and let Ghost and Gaz walk ahead of you.

 

“Gonna have to give her up eventually, Johnny.”  Ghost calls back at both of you.

 

“Piss off, L.T.”  Johnny mumbles out, and you lightly swat his arm in admonishment.

 

“Johnny, play nice.”  You tell him softly.

 

“Yeah Soap, play nice with us, bruv.”  Gaz turns fully, walking backwards to grin at you.

 

“Fuck off, Gaz.”  Johnny lifts his head for him to be more easily heard this time.

 

“ Jonathan. ”  You smile as you say it, but it’s enough to get his attention a little.  He groans as he stands at his full height finally.

 

“Sorry, hen.”  He slides his hand to your hip and rubs circles into it with his thumb, leaning down and kissing your cheek a few times.  

 

You slip your arm around him and rub his back.  “It’s ok.  It’ll all be ok, Bubbles.  Promise.”

 

---

 

After encouraging all of them to get something in their stomachs, Johnny takes you back to the room so he can start packing.  You had remembered to set out everything he needed, even the things he normally forgets.  You just paid attention the last time he shipped out is all.  

 

You watch as he packs things away, reassuring him that you have your own bag packed for when you have to go with Laswell.  Laswell was the one of few outside of the 141 Johnny could completely trust, so leaving you in her hands put him at ease.  Even though you weren’t exactly being left with her.  But he didn’t know that.

 

After he has everything tucked away, checked, double checked, and triple checked, you give him a much needed haircut.  You know he likes it on the shorter side when he is out in the field, so it doesn’t get caught in the padding of his helmet as much.  He knows you don’t mind it being a little longer, and tried to tell you he didn’t actually need it.

 

“Sweetie, your comfort is a thousand times more important.”  You have the longest part of his mohawk moved away from the clippers as you shorten up the sides and back first.  You still aren’t the world’s best barber, but you’ve learned how to get his hair just the way he likes it.

 

“Maybe I’d rather make ye happy for a change, lass.”  He watches from the mirror he has in his hand, paying way more attention to you than his hair as he sits in the office chair.

 

“And it makes me happy when you are at your most comfortable, so you are able to go out there and do your job without thinking  ‘Damn, I shoulda le’ the lass cu’ me hair after all.’”

 

He chuckles as your impersonation of him.  “Ye’re shite when it comes to tryin’ to talk like me, hen.”

 

“Simon’d go off the deep end if he had to listen to both of us try to English through Scot’ish.”  

 

“Probably best for everyone, dollface.”  You keep glancing down at the mirror, catching them beautiful blue eyes watching you.  

 

“You keep watching me like that and I just might take a big ol’ chunk out of your hair.”

 

“Can’ help it.  Too beau’iful no’ to watch.”

 

You hum, turning your attention back to his head while getting right up to the line where mohawk meets very short hair.  Once you get it all lined perfectly, you find your scissors to take some length off the top.

 

It takes a while, since you like to go slow and take your time to make sure you don’t screw it up.  But once it’s at the length he likes, you brush off all hair on his skin off of him and to the floor.  “There.  All done.”

 

“How do I look?”  He lifts the mirror to get a better view of his head.

 

You lean down, kissing his cheek before pressing yours against his, looking into the mirror with him with a smile.  “Like the sexiest husband I’ve ever had.”

 

That coaxes that signature grin of his.  “Like to be the only husband ye ever have.”  

 

You tilt and kiss his cheek again, standing up and grabbing the broom and dustpan you borrowed from janitorial to clear up the hair.

 

“I can do tha’, m'girl.”

 

“You are about to embark on a mission that will take God knows how long, and most likely be out there in the elements and definitely dealing with a metric fuckton of bullshit.  So just let me do this, ok?”  You already have it in a pile, sweeping it into the pan and dumping it into the tiny garbage can, setting the broom and pan aside. You'll return them later.  

 

The moment you finish he's pulling you down onto his lap, making you sit across his legs while he kisses you softly, holding your face with one hand to keep you from moving away from him.

 

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’ wanna leave ye.”

 

You smile at him, placing your hand on his cheek.  “One of the many hazards of joining a task force, handsome.  You have to be the ones to go out there and save the world from the bad guys.  And the world's own stupidity sometimes.”

 

“I know, bu-”

 

You slip your hand from his cheek and cover his mouth.  “Baby, I know it's because of me.  The unreasonable side of me would really like that sledgehammer so I can go Kathy Bates on you and make sure you can't leave.”

 

He sighs, groaning a little while pulling your hand away and kissing the back of it.   “An’ the reasonable side?”

 

“You, Soap MacTavish, are a Sergeant of Task Force 141.  You are one out of four of the absolute baddest motherfuckers I have ever met on the face of this planet.  You are the best of the best.  You have a job to do, and you will not stop until that job is done.  So you will go out there.  You will do your job, just as you have always done.  You will keep your wits about you.  And when it’s all said and done with, all four of you will come back here.”

 

Suddenly he's grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a hard, almost painful kiss, your hands finding his shoulders and squeezing tightly before he pulls away, eyes closed and pressing his forehead against yours, trying to catch his breath as he nods. “Hate yer reasonable side, but fuckin’ hell does it make a good argument.”

 

You let out a breathy chuckle, kissing his nose, then up to his forehead, before resting them together again.  “I'll be right here waiting for you, Johnny.”

 

“Promise me, m'girl?”

 

“Promise.”  

 

He leans back to look at you, fire built behind his eyes and jaw tightening.  

 

There he is.  There's my Soap.

 

A knock at the door startles you, but makes him grip onto your side protectively.  Extracting yourself from that grip, you stand off his lap.  “Who is it?”

 

“ GHOST. ”

 

You unlock the door quickly, opening it and smiling up at him, despite his grumpy, standoffish behavior.

 

Please hold while you get the full force of the Ghost. 

 

“Hiya Ghosty.”

 

The way he looks at you makes you drop the smile a little, clearing your throat and sorta matching his more serious energy.  “Ghost.”

 

“Laswell's gettin’ ready to ship out, wants you with her to debrief.”

 

“Oh.  Uhh… so soon?”

 

“Our departure’s been moved up.  Wheels up in thirty, Johnny.”

 

“Solid copy, L.T.”  Johnny's standing directly behind you now, wrapping an arm protectively across you.

 

You turn to face him, reaching up and grabbing his face and smiling, looking into those handsome eyes of his.

 

“Be safe?”

 

“Ye be safe too, hen.”  He crushes you with a kiss before he pulls you into a hug, lifting you off the ground and letting your feet dangle for a moment.

 

You give him one more kiss before he sets you down, then grab your bag and swing the strap across your body, finally walking out into the hallway.

 

Ghost nods at Johnny, who only nods back at him.  Ghost then leads you out of the barracks, Johnny's eyes on you the whole time.

 

Stepping outside, you slowly let out the breath you are holding.

 

Ghost has stopped walking, letting you get you composure back.  “He'll be alright, Dove.”

 

“I know.  He has three of the finest soldiers working along side him.”

 

Simon grunts out, finally turning to you.  “Fuck happened to your neck?”  He reaches over and tugs the fabric down to get a better look.”

 

You sigh, looking up at him without tilting your head up.  “Do you really have to ask?”

 

That gets a chuckle out of him.  “Gonna have to get that boy a muzzle.”

 

You snort out a laugh.  “Oh please do, but send me pics.”

 

“Why don’t we just get him a collar and a leash too?”

 

“Nope, too far.  Muzzle would be funny as hell.”

 

“You got everything you need in that bag of yours, dove?”

 

“Uhhh… I think so?  Like, I basically packed as if I was actually leaving base so Johnny didn't get suspicious or anything.”

 

“Good.”  He grabs the strap of your bag and pulls it off of you, slinging it over his shoulder like it's filled with feathers instead of a good portion of your belongings.  “Have to put you in Price's office for now.”

 

You nod, now walking silently beside Simon now, dread settling in the further you get away from Johnny.

 

It's ok.  They'll all be ok.  This is what they need to do.  This is their job.  One step closer to Makarov.  One step closer to getting the fuck out of here.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 44: Deployment

Ghost opens the door to Price's office,  without knocking as always, holding it open and letting you go in first.  Price is at his desk, on his phone while typing away at the computer.  

 

Simon sets your bag down carefully before leaning over and pulling you into a hug.  It takes you a moment before you realize what the hell just happened before you wrap your arms around his neck in return, eventually giving his forehead a kiss through his mask.  “Be safe, Ghosty.”

 

“Always, Dove.”  He finally lets you go, standing up straighter, brushing off his moment of vulnerability.  “I'll bring us all home.”

 

“You'd carry all three on your back If you had to.  But I also know if you had to pick just one… zombie apocalypse.”  You jerk your head towards the door.  “You better go check on him, make sure he hasn’t completely lost his shit by now.  Might wanna take Gaz with ya.”

 

Ghost nods down at you, looking at Price before leaving the office, closing the door behind him.  As you flop yourself down into a chair in front of Price’s desk, he hangs up his phone, setting it aside and huffing out a breath.  “You alright, Love?”

 

You press your lips together and shrug.  “For now.”  Standing up and going over to his desk, you grab a sticky note and a pen to write some names down.  “These are some names of recruits I’ve got to know a little.  I trust them to take the place of the 141 until you guys return.  I'll let Laswell know, but wanted you to look over the names just in case my judgment lacks somewhere.”

 

“Ya don’t have to-”

 

“John, if Graves is going to be here, I'm going to at least need witnesses if he tries to fuck with me again.”

 

Price sits there quietly, leaning back and slowly nodding his head, dropping his gaze to his hands as you go back to your chair.  “Witnesses.”

 

“Someone there as proof that if he ends up eating my fist, he started it and it was well warranted.”

 

“Hmmph.”  He reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out two glasses, followed by a bottle of his favorite alcohol.

 

He pours some into each glass before taking one of them, reaching over his desk and handing it off to you, and taking the other for himself.  You clink your glass to his, inspecting it and its contents before tilting your head back and taking a swig.  The feel of it going down makes your throat burn and you end up coughing.

 

Price can’t help but chuckle and shake his head.  “Always forget you aren’t much of  a drinker.  Also just remembered you’re about to get real chatty soon.”

 

“I’d apologize in advance, but you brought this on yourself.”  You take another sip and cringe before setting the glass on the desk, sitting back down and leaning back in the chair with a sigh.

 

“Love, I owe you an apology.  Several, actually.”

 

You frown, shifting your eyes to Price.  “For what?  The prisoner shit?  Nothing to apologize for.  It is what it is, and in the end you got something out of it.”

 

“And you got the short end of the stick on all of it, love.  But that’s only a part of the apology.”

 

“Do I want to know the other part?

 

He chuckles, nodding his head a few times.  “We haven’t exactly shown you just how much we appreciate you.  Don't think we did a great job when we were all on top of one another at the house.  Definitely not since you have been here on base.”

 

What?  Where is all this coming from?

 

“How d’ya mean?”

 

“I don't think I personally have thanked you for all of the things you have done for me.  For all of us.  I didn't… I hope we never made you feel like we were taking advantage of you.”  Price takes a drink from his own glass, keeping his eyes on you.

 

You shake your head.  “No, not at all.  Not by you , anyway.  Or any of you boys.  Laswell?  Little bit.  Shepherd?  He can kickstart a shotgun to the face.  You were just trying to do your job.  I… I was the sacrifice to be thrown into the volcano.  I clocked it from the beginning, I called it out.  I just needed some honesty, and wanted to rip off the bandaid.  None of you exactly liked the idea, Johnny about had a stroke from the whole thing.  I was just trying to help.  I know it did a little, at least.”

 

Price nods, breathing out a small chuckle.  “You've really been an asset to us, Love.  Truly.  Since the beginning.  I was a right cunt putting you up to any of it, for ever putting your life in danger.  You aren't a soldier, you aren't military, and you aren't 141.  You are a friend.  I should have never taken it to Laswell or Shepherd.”

 

You lean forward for your glass, downing the rest of it and setting it back, taking a moment to recover.  “I fell into the chaos of it all, and that’s not the fault of any of you boys.  I want you to know that.  I do not blame any of you.  And I know you think I should, but I don't.”

 

He finishes off his drink, coming around to the front of his desk to lean against it, crossing his arms.  “You took chaos by the horns and showed it who the fucking boss was.  Have from the start."

 

“Don’t think I could have if I hadn't been a part of it living in that house.  I was ready to say no.  Especially once I heard Simon was going to be living there.”

 

This confused Price.  “I thought you and Simon got on well?”

 

“We did to a point.  More so now than back then for sure.  I was worried about taking away the Fortress of Solitude.  That house was to be a safe place for you guys,  I didn’t want to intrude and take that away.  Simon didn't exactly hate me or anything, there just wasn’t much opportunity for trust to grow between us.  I was just Johnny’s annoying neighbor back then.  I didn't want to… make you tiptoe around me or anything. 

 

“Simon’s never been great at showing it, but he thought you were alright.  Just couldn't show it.  Might have ruined his grumpy reputation.  Think he liked how you pushed his boundaries and slowly broke through.  If Simon didn't want you around, he'd have left a pig head on your doorstep.”

 

“Simon leaving any head on your doorstep is just how he shows he likes you.  More than one, on the other hand…”

 

Price gives you a look like he was about to disagree, but ultimately doesn't.  “You showed him you were harmless.  Little pieces here and there, you didn't throw yourself at him trying to make him like you.”

 

“Never been the throwing type, John.”

 

“Oh you don’t have to tell me, love.  You and Soap are testament to that.”

 

You snort out a laugh, biting your lip after and sighing.  “Yeah, what a trip that is, huh?  Never thought in a million years he liked me, let alone loved me.”

 

“You’re really surprised?”

 

“I mean… it's me, John.  It’s a whole thing with me, really.  Past experiences.  Trauma responses.  Insecurities.”

 

“I'll have you know, Sergeant MacTavish was infatuated by you from the beginning.  There was a time we about duct taped and super glued his mouth shut, all he did was talk about you.”

 

“I… don't think any of you mentioned that before.  Didn't think I made any sort of impact like that.

 

“Think I can safely say it’s an all out obsession now.”  He nods at you while pulling at the collar of his vest.

 

“Gee, ya think?”  You giggle, going to tug at the fabric to cover it, but setting your hand back down halfway there.  No point in trying to hide it right now.

 

“Is this going to be a problem for me?”

 

Ah, there it is.  The main concern.  Him and me.  Which…

 

“I honestly don’t know.  I'd like to say no?   I gave him a pep talk, hopefully it helped.  I think I left him in Soap Mode before Ghost brought me down here.  Task force and the job comes first.  What good it’ll do, you’ll be the one to judge.”  

 

“‘Soap Mode’?”

 

You smile.  “It’s this… anthropomorphized switch I see in you guys.  Yours, right now, is in John Mode.  Sweet, caring, attentive, all the dad things.  Won’t be long and you’ll switch into Price Mode.  Serious, tactical, barking orders, concentrating on the mission ahead.  You all have two modes.”

 

“What about you?  Do you have two modes?”

 

“Mine is more like… a wall full of switches.  I know what some of them do.  I think I know what others do, and I have no idea what a lot of them do.  One of them works only about half the time, one of them gives me an electrical shock every time I touch it, and there’s one there that I can't figure out what it does, and it's probably attached to some poor bastard’s house in the middle of Narnia.”

 

That gets a good laugh from him.  “You are just something else, Love.”

 

You shrug.  “I’m really not all that special, John.”  You sigh, leaning back in your chair.  “If getting him hyped to get his mind on the mission worked at all, I'm glad.  You and I both know he can’t be over there, worrying about whatever the hell happens over here.  None of you can.   I'm not a pampered little princess, or a delicate flower that'll get pushed over by a small breeze.  I can handle things here.”

 

“Hmmm.”  He glances down at his watch and straightens up, standing taller from not leaning on his desk.  “Right. Wheels up in twenty.  Need to make last minute preperations.”

 

You stand out of your chair and pull Price into a hug, just like you did with all the others, and plant a kiss on his scruffy bearded cheek.  “Be safe.”

 

He hugs you so hard your back almost cracks, and you are tempted to ask him to squeeze you just a little bit more to complete the job.  He chuckles in a way that you’ve never really heard before.  “Well.  This is awkward.”

 

You pull away from him and look up at him, glaring some.  “Swear on your mum John, if you tell me you have a boner…”

 

He guffaws at that.  “Soap would gut me without another thought.  Ghost might too.  And leave me three heads for disrespecting Soap.”

 

“Oof, three heads, that wouldn't be good at all.  Especially if you have to rely on him watching your six.”

 

Price nods, moving back around his desk and sitting in his chair, ducking under his desk.  He pulls out a combat helmet, pair of boots, couple sets of fatigues, and a variety of other items, setting each on top of his desk   “I hope all this fits.”

 

You pick up a boot and roll it around to inspect it.  “I've seen your feet, and I think this is about… way too many sizes too small.  And the helmet won't fit your ego, let alone your head.  Especially if you keep the boonie hat on underneath.”

 

He laughs, but cuts it short, clearing his throat.  “Not on me, love.”  He's grabbing out a cigar and his lighter, gesturing at you with the cigar before lighting it.  “These are yours.”

 

You frown now, setting down the boot and picking up the fatigues.  They may be slightly too big on you, but you can manage.  Too small and there would be issues.  “Why do I need this?  You gonna have me rucking it with the recruits while I'm stuck here without you?”

 

Price has this grin on his face.  You can only tell it's there because of how his mustache and beard have settled on his face.  “Put those on, love.  And you should hurry.  Gonna have to turn and burn quick.”  He starts puffing on his cigar in the mean time.

 

You just give him the most confused look while kicking off your shoes and taking off the hoodie.  Price lets out a whistle, no doubt because of the marks in full view now.   You sit down to pull the fatigues on over your clothes.  “Mind telling me the plan?”

 

“You are under 141 protective custody.  Which means it is at our discretion to keep you with us, no matter where we are in the world.”

 

You are lacing up your boots as quickly as you can, and trying to be neat about it.  Failing miserably.  “That sounds like a made up, fucked up policy that could turn sideways at any minute.”

 

He shrugs, letting out a plume of smoke.  “Laswell approved.  Her idea, actually.  Your feelings about Shepherd align with hers.  Can't be trusted.  And the recent actions of Graves has her uneasy.  While she is capable of taking up our slack whilst we are deployed on mission, she doesn't like the potential safety gap.”

 

“Why am I even surprised at this point?  This is the 141, protocols are half assed guidelines.  Laws and regulations don't matter.  The fine line of ethics or whatever any of this is doesn't exist.”  You start lacing up the other, glancing up at Price.  “Not complaining, just pointing out that if this were any normal military setting anywhere else, none of this would be happening.”

 

“Right about that.  The rest of the 141 don't know about this.  They were told Laswell was indeed removing you from base.  Just wasn't told how or where.”

 

“How'd Johnny take it?”  You start shoving your feet into the boots and finish tying the laces, standing for a moment and checking them.  They fit surprisingly well.

 

“Relieved you weren't being left to deal with Graves.”

 

“No wonder he let me walk away with Ghost without much protest.”  You finish buttoning, zipping, and tying anything you can find that needs to be.  Price places his cigar between his teeth, coming towards you to straighten out anything you missed, and to help you look better put together.  “How am I sneaking onto this thing?”

 

“Plain sight.  Hope you have a flying stomach, Love.”

 

“Guess I better find one.” You lift up a corner of your mouth in an attempt to smile.  “Makes sense why you gave me a drink.”

 

“Except once we leave this room, you must remain silent.”  He starts getting a tac vest on you, already outfitted full of contents.  It wasn't too far off from what Soap has in his, so you were aware of where things were to a point.

 

“Knew there was a fucking catch.”  You hold your arms out to make it easier on him, though he's glancing at his watch as he works.

 

“You won't look completely soldier-like, but this'll do.  Just keep quiet as I said.  Say nothing.  Don't even squeak if you can help it.  If you get past Ghost, this should work.”

 

“If I get past Johnny, you mean.”

 

“If Soap is as pep talked as you say, he won't notice.  He'll be friendly, but won't give you another glance since he won't be expecting you .  Blinders on, as it were.  Ghost is the test.  If he doesn't immediately clock you, this has a better chance of working.”

 

“Suppose you might be right.  And don't get me wrong here, I do wanna get the fuck out of here because of Graves’ and all, but how the fuck am I going to be there by your side and not be more of a distraction?  Does any part of that make sense?”

 

“They're soldiers, love.  They've spent their entire adult lives training to become the best of the best, and for that very reason, they are 141.  I wager they'll be less distracted with you at our side.  They didn't like having to leave you behind anyway.”  Price twirls his finger at you, indicating that he'd like you to move.

 

You turn away from him so he can finish strapping things on your back.  “One day, they're gonna have to accept it, though.  Leaving me behind is just how the cookie crumbles.”

 

“You saying you want to stay here, make them get used to it now?”

 

“I said ‘one day’, not today .”

 

He pats you on the shoulder, then has you turn to face him, taking the cigar out of his mouth to inspect you.  “Now we hide your face.”  He turns back to the desk, pulling up a half face covering and handing it to you, watching as you slide it on.

 

“Ugh.  How the hell does Simon wear this?  A burp in this thing and you smell what your ancestors ate for fuck's sake.”

 

Price breaths out a small chuckle and shakes his head, finishing the last of his cigar and stubbing it out.  “Dunno, love.  It's Simon.  Least it covers your neck.”  He turns and grabs some gloves for you to slide on.  “Let's button up them jokes of yours, eh?  Making me laugh may bring you too much attention.”

 

“Right.  Price mode.  Wait, kinda wanna call yours Price Check.  ‘Price Check on the bullet about to enter your face’?”

 

“Love.”

 

“...you brought this on with the booze.  Suffer.”  

 

With the gloves on he slides a pair of sunglasses over your eyes.  And finally the helmet.  He straps it underneath your chin, adjusts, and steps back.  After he scans you up and down he shakes his head.  “You don't look like much of a soldier, but it'll do.  Now, you cannot say a word to the others.  No one.”

 

“And you can't tell me where I'm going, don't tell me what we're doing, and I’ll be fine.”

 

“That ever bother you?”

 

“What, being a useless lump of a human being, waking up every day not knowing what it holds for me, not knowing where I am on the planet, and putting my health, safety, and welfare explicitly in the hands of four people?  It'll be an interesting topic when I mention it all in therapy some day.”

 

Price looks guilty at your admission.

 

“Embracing the chaos, John.”

 

“Hmmph.  Laswell’s made it look like you are staying in the country, and also made it so Graves is stuck here at base.  You’ll be solid coming with us.”

 

“Better than Liquid ?”

 

“...”

 

“...Your fault, Price.”

 

“Safe word is ‘oyster’.  Until you hear that word from me, best to stay quiet.

 

You pantomime taking a key, locking away your lips, and throwing the key over your back.

 

With a curt nod, Price grabs his gear, letting you stuff the extra fatigue and your hoodie into your bag before leading you out of his office.  As he locks up, he says to you, “Let's move out, Private .  And thank you.  For everything you've done.”

Notes:

WE'RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE!

Chapter 45: Runt

Price leads you out towards the hanger, with you falling in step with him while adjusting your face covering a little to make sure it's all in place.  Especially making sure your neck is covered.

You try to become more aware of your movements.  Straightening your back, stiffening your limbs, keeping your head level.  You’ve been on this base and been around enough recruits, you should be able to mimic them well enough.  You are also trying to concentrate on breathing, since it's not nearly as easy as Ghost makes it look in the mask.  Though part of you realizes if you were completely sober all of this would be that much more difficult for you.

Graves is out with a group of his Shadows surrounding him, giving them some sort of talking to.  He looks over at you as you walk past.  “Hey Captain Price!  Might wanna throw that one back, kinda small to be a keeper, doncha think?  You can borrow one of mine if you'd like!”

Not to be that person, but you are 5 foot 10, Graves.  Not that short compared to you.

You both ignore Graves as Price heads to speak with the rest of the 141, who are outside the plane and obviously waiting for him.  “Gentlemen.  Wheels up in five.”

You keep walking past them, hands gripped onto the strap of your duffle bag.  Wishing it was Graves’ neck.  Since the purple duffel bag Johnny had got you ages ago was damaged in the ‘accident’ with Makarov's men, you have a standard issue duffel now.  Making you blend in that much more easily, thank goodness.

You catch Ghost do a double take, with you almost wanting to ask how his neck feels after that one it was so quick.  

“Where'd that runt come from?”  You hear Gaz gruff out as you make your way past the group.  

“Laswell's.  She has our bird, we have hers.”

That's the last of what you hear while you follow a few soldiers onto the plane, trying to follow their movements, getting your bag tucked in by theirs before finding a seat.  You silently thank Price for the sunglasses, as it's not completely obvious that you are looking around trying to figure out how exactly to work your belts and strap in.  

Of course somehow you get it all tangled and backwards.

How the hell… they make it look so damn easy.  Ok.  This goes here, that goes here, turn this around like that, aaaand… fuck .

“At ease, Private.”  Price chuckles and crouches down in front of you, batting your hands out of the way and helping with untangling everything and getting you buckled in properly, pulling on the shoulder straps to tighten them and lock you in.  “There.  Now you won’t have to worry about falling out.”

Didn't Gaz have something like that happen?  Pretty sure I've heard it joked about between you boys.

You reach up and tilt your sunglasses down just enough to let him see you glare at him, making him hold back a laugh.  “Seems you also have a callsign now.  Welcome to the 141, Runt .”

You roll your eyes and push your sunglasses back up your nose.  He lightly pats your leg and stands, going off towards the boys as they get ready for take-off.

You're starting to feel like you are about to burst into flames at any minute from how hard Ghost is staring at you.  You know he can't see you looking at him.  But as far as you can tell he doesn't ever have to see a lot of things.  And with how hard he's looking at you, you can guess that he has seen right through the disguise.

If you ever doubt your place in the 141 for any reason, you have this to look back on, Simon.

The other soldiers around you are mumbling about you.  You wish you could stick your fingers in your ears and tune them out completely, but that'd make you look more suspicious.  So you keep your shoulders up, head straight, and close your eyes while trying to focus on anything else.

---

Flying was a whole thing in and of itself when you are sitting pretty in an airplane.

There's nothing pretty about the military plane you are in.

Turbulence had you gripping tightly into your shoulder straps, eyes squeezed shut as much as possible, trying not to hold your breath, but also trying not to panic.

When it's finally over with you try to relax your muscles, which helps some.  You glance over at the 141 and everyone else and you realize you were the only one to react that way.

For the moment, either no one saw or no one wants to call attention to it.  Just fine by you.  You take the opportunity to close your eyes again, trying to even out your breathing.

Opening your eyes, you see Gaz is the first to try to approach you.  Price puts a hand on his shoulder and holds him back, mumbling something before heading your way himself.  Kyle is the most compassionate of the bunch, and thinking you were one of Kate's, he probably felt like checking in on you was the best course of action, diplomacy wise.

“You alright there, Runt?”  Price sits in the empty seat next to you.

You nod and reach up to scratch your face with your middle finger for using your new nickname.

“Hmmph.  Cheeky.  I think we say you damaged your vocal cords.  Botched mission.  It'll account for you being so quiet.”  

You nod again, pointing to your neck before making a slicing motion across it with your finger.  Price nods approvingly.

“That'll do it.  They looking over at us?”  

You nod once more after looking past his shoulder at your boys.  That gets a slight smile from Price.  “Course they are.  Nosey buggers.”

You shrug.  

“You wanna come sit by us?”

You quickly shake your head, even though of course you want to sit with them.  To be comforted, to be with your people, to joke, to make fun of them, and even to have them  make fun of you.  You kinda wanna punch Price in the arm for suggesting such a cruel thing.

“Had to ask, so I can tell them as much.  Doing good so far, Runt.  You have Johnny to thank for that name, he ran with it.”

Of course he did.

Price pats your knee like before.  “We should be there soon.  When we land, grab your things and stay in my vicinity.  Depending on what happens when we land, we'll go from there.  Soap and Ghost have been here before.  They know the place, they know the people.  Familiar-like.  And they are nothing like Shadow Company.  You're in good hands with all of us.”

You nod, watching Price stand, yelling something at the others as he makes his way back towards the 141.

You tuck your thumbs under your shoulder straps and hang on.  Looking over, Ghost is staring at you again.  You tilt your head, staring back at him.

If you can hear me Simon, scratch your nose.

Ghost doesn't look away.  You know he won't do it first, as stubborn as he is.  It'll be a game to him.  He-

…completely a coincidence that bastard just scratched his fucking nose.

Irritated, you turn your gaze and stare ahead as much as you can, especially when someone new takes the seat next to you and straps in.

“Hate to break it to you Private, but The Ghost is the only one that can pull off covering their face.”

You roll your eyes so hard behind your sunglasses you think they may get stuck for a second.

Opinions and assholes, we all have them, and I don't want to hear from yours right now.  Dipshit.

“ Silent type, huh?  Maybe we'll get on better than I thought.  You're belong to Price, yeah?  Name’s Sanders.”  They hold out their hand towards you, hoping you'll shake it.

Is your daddy a Colonel by chance?

You give a short two finger salute and tuck your hands away again, ignoring them once more.

“Definitely better than I thought.”

Fucking hell.

“You meet all the Task Force?  You know Captain Price.  The there's Lieutenant Riley.  The Ghost.  Scary fucker.  Stay far away from him if you can manage it.”

Safest teddy bear in the bunch next to Johnny.  Have one back home to prove it.

“The one in the cap is Sergeant Garrick.  They call him Gaz.  He's not too bad.  Fits in well.”

Not bad?  He fits in perfectly.  A total sweetheart.

“Mohawk is Sergeant MacTavish.  Call him Soap.  Broke over half the hearts on base when he came back one day and had a wife.  Not sure what their deal is.  No one can figure them out.  She's nice, anyway.”

Oh good, I did try to keep my raging bitch side to a minimum.

“Watch yourself with him, he's been in a mood.  Maybe got in a fight with his other half before he left.  Thought he was going to bite someone's head off.”

Simon would do the biting for him.

“You should stay close to me, I can teach you some of the ropes as we go along, since you're still green.”

We'll see.

---

Landing wasn't much better than takeoff.  But at least you are back on solid ground.

As soon as it was cleared, you damn near ripped the restraints off of yourself just so you could stand up again.  Getting your bearings, you find your bag, unzipping it a little to double check it was yours.  The hoodie you stole from Johnny was laying right on top where you shoved it in last minute after Price had you change into your gear.

You zip it up again and toss the strap across your body, looking back at the boys as they are already walking off the back of the plane when the cargo door opened.  You make your way towards them until your new buddy Sanders holds you up.

“Hang back a bit, highest rank gets out ahead of us.”

You shake your head and barge past them, letting the boys get some distance between you before you start to follow.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think this really was a family reunion.  Loud cheering, handshakes, high fives, claps on the back, and smiles all around.  Most of the attention is on Johnny, with some shocked faces amongst them.

“SOAP!  Didn't think you were still amongst the living!”

Price wasn't kidding, they really are like brothers.

You take your time getting to them, trying to take them all in, while still trying to remember to carry yourself as a Private.  You do as Price said, staying in his vicinity.  Someone nods their head towards you and asks about the small one.

“Tha's Runt.  Price is in charge of tha’ one.”  Johnny bellows out with a laugh.  “Ye won’ get no back talk from them.  Quie’er than a mouse.”

Ghost looks back at you for a moment, then turns away.

After a bit of catching up, you are all led towards their base.  Price falls back to walk next to you.  Accommodations are discussed, and it's asked if you will be needing a room or if you are bunking with the other soldiers.  

“They'll need their own room next to us.  Can't be too careful with this one.”  Price grabs onto your shoulder and squeezes.  You are so glad your face is completely covered, thanks to your now bright red face.

Price releases you when you are all shown to your rooms.  You take the one nestled in between Johnny and Kyle to offer a buffer, Simon and John taking the rooms across the hall from you.

“Everyone get settled in.  Meet up in one hour.”  Price says, but then hesitates and looks down at you.  “Make that two hours.  Runt, drop gear.  We need to talk.

You nod and toss your bag off into your designated room, then walk across the hall.  Price quickly shuts the door and flips the lock, and you pull down your sunglasses to look at him.  He turns to you with a smile. “Went a lot more smoothly than I anticipated.  You alright, love?”

You nod quickly, pulling down the mask off your face to take in some deeper breaths and whisper,  “Seriously don't know how the hell Simon breathes in a damn mask all the time.”

There's a loud knock at Price's door.  You slowly put your mask up and push your sunglasses back up your nose as Price opens the door.  “Simon?”

“Captain. Think we need to talk about Runt.”

Oh shit.

Price lets him in, shutting the door tight once Ghost is in the room, which suddenly became so much smaller with him there.  You step back enough so you are almost standing in the corner, hands behind your back and feet slightly apart.  Observing for now.

“You ever think to tell me what the fuck your plan was, Captain?”

Ohhhhh shit.

“Wasn't counting on it.  Shoulda known better though, eh?”

“I'm your second in command, Price.  ‘Course ya should fuckin’ know better.”  Simon has his eyes set on you now, stepping past his Captain to converge on you.  If there ever was a time for you to develop super powers like Ant-Man and become smaller, now would be a great time.

“Hello, Dove.”

Of course he clocked me.  Damn him.

You smile under your mask.  But don't move or acknowledge it.

“Oh right.  Oyster, love.”

With a sigh you pull the sunglasses off and pull the mask down off your face. You see the corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle as he smiles under his own mask.

“How’d you figure it was me, Batman?”

“Spent enough time with you over the years, should know who you bloody are by now, covered head to toe or not.”

“Not sure how funny or sad that is, considering Johnny and I have literally shared a bed for how long and he didn't clock me.”

That makes Simon pause for a moment.  “Said he thought he was losing his mind when he saw you, cause he thought it was you you.  Talked himself out of it, decided he was just gonna be seeing you in places you weren't.”

“...Well now I feel bad.  Suppose we should let Johnny know I'm here together then, yeah?  That way he knows it's real.”

“Don't let Gaz know.  He thinks you are actually one of Laswell’s.  Let's see if he can figure it out.”  Simon suggests.

A knock at the door has you frozen for a moment before you once again put your mask back into place as well as the sunglasses, Simon helping you adjust and showing you how to stand properly before Price opens the door to find Johnny standing there.

“Didn’ realize ye were havin’ a whole meetin’.”

“Just going over some of the finer details before reporting to everyone, Soap.  There a problem?”

“Uh… no.  No’ exactly.  I was… jus’ checking in on wha’ our orders were with Runt here.”

Price and Ghost look at each other, turn to look back at you, look back at one another, then look back at Soap as Price motions for him to enter the room, shutting the door behind him.  You try to somehow make yourself smaller.

Jesus, getting really tight in here.

Price puts his hand on Soap's shoulder.  “You're going to have to be very quiet, son.  Top secret information in this room.  Gaz doesn't have the proper clearance for this.  Not yet, anyway.  Our hosts here at base aren't even privileged to this.”

“Wha’ the hell are we involved in, Cap'n?’

“Quiet, Johnny.”  Ghost places his hand on Soap's other shoulder and nods at you.

“Oyster, love.”

You reach under the mask, undoing your chin strap and letting it fall open, carefully taking it off and setting it on the table close by.  Next off are the gloves, which you set inside the helmet, then the sunglasses and pulling the mask down around your neck, taking in a deep breath finally and smiling up at them.

Simon's hand flies up to cover Johnny's mouth as he almost screams out when he sees that it's you hiding under the gear.  “Easy, Johnny.  Easy.  Quiet, remember?”  

Johnny pushes Simon off of him and closes the gap between the two of you, picking you up and crushing you against him, one hand going to the back of your head and holding you in place, your own arms wrapping tightly around his neck and legs going around his waist to help support yourself.  After a moment he tilts his head, kissing up and down the side of your head. “ Fuckin’ hell, I though’ we lef’ ye to the wolves.”

“Shhhh I know, I'm sorry.”  

Johnny finally sets you back onto your feet, looking you over carefully, as if you haven't been right in front of him the last few hours, then turns back towards Price and Simon while his arm snakes around you protectively.  “Ye couldn'a fuckin’ told me sooner?  Though’ I was havin’ episodes again.”

Again?  Episodes?

“Price got her geared up and on the plane.  I figured it was her the moment I saw her.  Couldn't say anything to you until I confirmed it with Price.”

You reach up and squeeze his arm, tilting your head back and looking up at him.  “I had no idea until I got to Price's office, I couldn't even try to give you a heads up even if I wanted.”

He looks down at you with a frown, and you reach up to touch his cheek.  “Wha abou’ Gaz?  How come he doesn’ know?”

“Training exercise.  See how long it takes for him to realize it's our birdie.  If he ever does.”  Simon chuckles.

Price chuckles.  “Outside of any room here, you must be dressed up as Runt.  Never open any door here without one of us in the room with you.”

“Fine by me.”  You slide on helmet, mask, sunglasses, and gloves again before giving a thumbs up.

“Best make a decoy bed on the floor in your room, Johnny.  If anyone asks, it's a safety issue.”

Good idea, actually.

You give another thumbs up, looking up at Johnny.  

“Be'ter get the la- Runt settled in, then.”

Price opens his door once more and Johnny leads you off to his room, ushering you in ahead of him.  As soon as he shuts and locks the door you start taking off all your gear again.  “Dunno how the hell you boys did this all the time.  But now I know I'm definitely not cut out to be a soldier.”

Johnny slips behind you, wrapping his arms around you tight.  “Won’ be here for long, hen.  Then we'll be back on home turf.”

I can only hope…

Notes:

I suck at nicknames... But here we are!

 

Private Runt of the 141

Chapter 46: Maybe

Maybe…

 

Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea in the world.

 

Maybe you should have stayed back at base, despite the shit Graves was pulling, and Shepherd was trying to pull.

 

Maybe you could have been taken to a safe house instead.

 

So many alternatives that maybe should have happened.

 

But here you are, presumably in another part of the world, watching as the 141 came back bloodied and bruised.  Time after time.  Every time they were out on missions.

 

When they shipped out while you were at home?  They left, were gone for an amount of time, and then came back.  It was slightly less nerve wracking.  Now, being front and center for every tiny mission and deployment, was about to give you a complex.  It was almost too much for you.

 

Definitely not cut out for the military.  I can't wait for them all to retire.  Get a huge plot of land out in the middle of nowhere.  A house or cabin or whatever for each of the boys.  And a main house for everyone to converge on whenever and wherever.  Comradery.  Family.  Peace.  Quiet.

 

The good news at least was The 141 has been able to get some of the information that they were after. Even took in a few prisoners.  You noped right the fuck out on anything to do with that, refusing to even be in the observation room.  No one tried to convince you otherwise.

 

Gaz has tried to approach you a few times now, still not knowing who you really were.  Being the sweetheart he always is and trying to make you comfortable, but also to try to figure out why exactly Laswell sent you along at all.

 

Your new ‘buddy’ Sanders has kept an eye on you when you have been left to your own devices.  When the boys are in meetings or out on missions, you were usually with the other Privates.  Keeping to the side and observing as much as possible.  Once in a while participating.  It was understood you weren't one of them.  They were still trying to show you the ropes.  

 

Simon and Johnny both decided you were not going to be introduced to the hosts of the base you were at.  You had asked why, but after Johnny explained, you understood.

 

---

 

“For ye're safety, hen.  Keepin’ people ye love a secret.”

 

“A safe secret?  Or you're afraid someone else is gonna try and swoop in and sweep me off my feet?”  You teased him while he laid on top of you and refused to let you get away from him.  It was after one of their missions that lasted a couple days before they got back.   Since your neck was healing, you wanted to keep it that way.  So he was busy making marks anywhere else he could.  A reminder of him, he told you.  “Not happening, Bubbles.”

 

“It really is abou’ ye'r safety.  Somethin’ my friend Al told me once.  Ye keep family a secret.  As much as ye can, anyway.  And you are a secret worth keepin’.”

 

---

 

At the moment you were in the infirmary with the boys. They just got back from yet another mission.  This time, they’d been gone five days before they finally came back to you.

 

Sanders took it upon themself to try to explain what happened.  Before you could walk away, you were told it had turned into an ambush and they had to fight like hell to get out of there alive.  He did apologize to you later, after you wrote a note explaining you weren't cleared to have any information about any missions.  Not far from the truth, really.

 

You started out being there in the infirmary just to support your boys, and ended up donning medical gloves to clean the more minor wounds.  Ghost was the most injured and you wanted the medics to tend to him.  You could handle the minor boo-boos.

 

Price had the least amount of injuries out of the four of them, mainly bruises and scratches.  He was currently with Ghost, keeping watch over him and the medics.  Johnny wasn't that bad either, though possibly a strained muscle in his arm.  Gaz was grazed by a few bullets, and his nose had to be set after being hit in the face by the butt of a rifle.  You were working on one of the bullet grazes on Gaz's thigh.  From the looks of it, he was damn lucky the bullet didn't hit anything.

 

“Very gentle work ye do there, Runt.”  Johnny was sitting on a stool close by, his arm in a sling, watching as you worked.  He was waiting for you to finish with Gaz before you did any work on him.  One of the other medics tried to and Johnny was a little combative.

 

“Our little miss back home is a thousand times better, Bruv.  Way more gentle like.”  Gaz pipes up.  You grin under your mask.  Kyle still had no clue who you were.  And for the record, you were trying to be gentle, but also trying to make sure the wounds were wrapped and treated properly.  “Poor girl must miss us somethin’ awful.”

 

“Hen'll be just fine where she is.  Plus, Runt's been very ‘gentle like’ with me.  Ye're just ornery tha’ they like me bet'er, Gaz.”

 

“Making them spend time with you doesn't mean they like you , Soap.”  Gaz wasn't exactly happy with Johnny from the sounds of it. 

 

“Sergeants, quit squawking and let the poor Private be.”  Price calls out from his post next to Ghost.

 

Simon had taken a bullet to his arm, and something was bleeding profusely under his mask, which he hasn't let anyone see yet.  How that man always got head wounds, you'll never understand.  Price was quietly trying to convince him to let the medic treat it.  Ghost was being very difficult about all of it.

 

You were almost finished with Gaz when Ghost starts shouting, most of it drowned out from a tray of instruments being upended, metal clanging on the floor as he stormed out of the infirmary.  Price tries to order him back, but Simon isn't having any of it.

 

“Go check on him, he-Runt.”  Johnny nudges you along when you don't move right away.

 

“Why?  You trying to get Runt killed?  Ghost will rip their head off if they try to get near him.”

 

You snap off your medical gloves, giving Kyle’s leg a gentle squeeze and Johnny’s shoulder a quick pat before navigating the infirmary to see what the hell happened.

 

The medic was standing there frozen, not sure what to do.  You move them and set them in a chair, trying to convey to them to just sit there.

 

“Medic tried to cut his mask off.”  Price tells you.  You nod and point at Price, then use your thumb to motion for him to go to the poor medic, which he does with a curt nod, grumbling to you about how a Private really shouldn't be bossing around a Captain.

 

You gather up a tray and load it with some supplies before you head off towards Ghost's room, knocking lightly on the door.

 

“ FUCK OFF!”

 

You knock again, harsher than before.  Mid knock the door flies open.  “Fuckin’ tol-... Oh.  Runt.”  

 

You tilt your head expectantly, even shoving your foot in the doorway to prevent him from shutting you out.  Sure, he could easily lift you and toss you down the hallway without breaking a sweat.  But you at least make him know you don’t intend on leaving him be.

 

Ghost mumbles a bunch of curses under his breath while walking away, letting you enter and lock it behind you.  You set down your supplies on his table, then remove your gear to address him properly as he sits on his cot, looking at anything but you.

 

“Don't want no lectures from you, Dove.”

 

“Wouldn't dream of it, Si.”

 

“M'fine.”

 

“Damn fine, indeed.”  You open the door that leads to the bathroom, flicking on the light.  You then grab the chair, dragging it and placing it in front of the sink.  It'll be a snug fit in there with the both of you, but you'll make it work.

 

“Johnny hears you talking to me like that, and we'll both be in trouble.”

 

You laugh a little as you take off your fatigues jacket, setting it next to Ghost on his cot.  “He'll get over it.”  You stand in front of him, making grabby hands at him, motioning for him to hang on to you.  “Come on, big guy.”

 

“Said m'fine.”

 

“I know.  But ya know Price, and how he is when his best lieutenant gets all dark and broody.  Not to mention injured.  So how about you let your favorite Runt take care of you.  Cause ya know when it starts to dry it's going to get stupidly itchy and annoying, and we both know we can't have something that annoys you more than me around here.

 

He flicks his eyes back up at you, with you repeating the grabby hands.  

 

“Gazatron thinks you'll kill me, so letting me patch you up will really fuck with him.”

 

That gets him moving at least.  He ignores your hands, standing under his own strength.  Though when he wobbles you quickly grab him around the waist.  Not that you could do much but be a cushion for his fall if he did topple over.

 

You keep your arm around him, waiting for him to make the first move toward the bathroom.  Which he does, muttering again.  Once he's sat down, you then shove the whole table of his closer to the bathroom so you don't have to keep trying to go around him for your supplies.  

 

First is the blue mask you hold up to him, wiggling it on your finger by the ear loop.  Standing in front of him, you turn to face away, keeping the mask dangling from a finger, swinging it around a little.  “Slide up your mask and put this on for me, please.”

 

He sighs heavily, but you hear him shifting around on the chair as it creaks from his weight, eventually feeling a light twang from the elastic as he takes the mask from your finger.

 

“Let's get this over with.”

 

You damn near vibrate with excitement, you are so proud of the grumpy Ghost for putting up with you.  You shimmy and shove your way into the bathroom, placing yourself behind him and next to the sink.  “Wish I had a flatter ass right about now.”

 

Ghost grunts, shaking his head.  “Johnny'd be devastated.”

 

With a light laugh you reach around him, grabbing some medical gloves and pulling them on.  “You ok if I start taking it off the rest of the way, big guy?”

 

He lets out another grunt.

 

“Sorry dearheart, no caveman grunting.  Need your words.”

 

“ Yes , ya cheeky minx.”

 

“That's my Ghosty.”  You pick up where he left off, only slightly adjusting the elastics of the blue mask around his ears before slowly moving his black mask up.  It was wet with sweat and blood.  You weren't sure which there was more of at this point.  His skin was covered with blood, darker in some spots, brighter in others.

 

Fully off, you tossed it into the sink, turning on the water so you can start to wash it out, letting the water soak in before you squeeze it as hard as you can, bright red pouring from the mask.  You keep the water flowing slowly as you rinse everything out, fully squeezing and twisting the mask until the water runs clear.  You wring it all out the best you can, then hang it up over the shower rod so it can start to drip dry.

 

Now you finally turn your attention to the task of assessment and cleanup.  As much as you wanted to take care of it before the mask, you knew he'd have a fit about it if the mask wasn't cleaned first.

 

You rinse out the sink, change gloves, and grab a clean cloth, getting it wet under warm water and slowly, carefully start making work on his head.  He has a good gash on top of his head.  Not nearly as bad as you thought, which is always a plus.  You carefully and slowly start cleaning up the blood, trying not to disturb anything that has started to coagulate and scab over.  You do have some butterfly stitches that you grabbed, so you use those to hold it in place.

 

“What are my chances of you letting me grab the medic and have them look at this to see if you need stitches?”

 

He scoots his chair over, making sure you are trapped in the bathroom with him.  You sigh.  “What if Johnny asked you to have it looked at?”

 

“Letting you look at it, ain't I?”

 

“I don't have a medical degree to determine a whole hell of a lot.”

 

Simon shrugs at you.  You give him an exasperated sigh, then go back to cleaning and butterflying the skin back together.  Mumbling loud enough for him to hear just how much of a pain in your ass he is.

 

“There.  It's not pretty, but it'll hold.  I think.  Gonna unhook the mask to clean up around your ear.  I'll let you wash your face later, just getting back here where you can't see.  You alright with that?”

 

“Don't need to ask, Dove.”

 

“You are a grown ass man who deserves to have all the bodily autonomy in the world.  Soooo… I'm asking.”

 

“Do what ya bloody need to do, ya pain in the arse.”

 

“Thank you.  Asshat.  Tell me to stop if you need a break.”  You slide off one ear hook to clean up around his ears, making sure you stand behind him just in case anything slips.  Once side one is done, you move to side two.

 

“If ya ask me again, dove…”  You had only taken in a breath to speak, and he answered you before you let out a word.  Instead, you let it out and laugh.  

 

“Forgive me, mister nasty pants, for treating you like a human.”  You keep working, cleaning as you go, rinsing and wringing out the washcloth here and there.  “Can I ask you something not related to you?”

 

“You can.  Don't mean you'll get an answer.”

 

“Not expecting one.  Just… Having one of those conversations about someone both of us care for.”

 

“He do somethin’?” Ghost turns his head slightly to look back at you. 

 

“No no, nothing like that.  Just… these episodes of his.  Apparently they've involved me?  And it wasn't the first time?” 

 

“Never told you about those?” Ghost growls out. 

 

“No.  I wasn't even sure if it was something to discuss with him directly, so… that's why I'm asking you about it first.”

 

“Hmph.”  Simon is deep in thought while you work on cleaning him up, gently having him bend his neck to lean over the sink more.  “Long time ago.  Bad mission.  Someone that was a dead ringer for you got in a bad situation.  Threw us all for a loop.  Johnny more than the rest of us.”

 

You rinse out your washcloth again, almost done cleaning up Ghost.  “Happened a few times now?”

 

“Something like that, dove.”

 

You don't press any further, leaving it be for now.  “So you can totally say no, b-”

 

“No.”

 

“You don't even know what I'm going to ask!”

 

“Yes I do.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“You wanna get me naked, Dove.”

 

That… is not how I would put it.

 

“Definitely not a want, Si.  You've been shot, you need to get out of your tac, you're gonna need to shower and clean up, and you can do it all in your boxers while I get you scrubbed down without disturbing your wounds, so you don't end up with an infection in some god awful place.  I'd leave you with Johnny, since you took care of him when he was hurt.  But he has a fucked up arm.  I could call in either Gaz or Price if you want?  I'm just… trying to help you out here, hon.  

 

Ghost shifts in the chair, sitting up fully to test out the arm in question.  Just lifting it makes him groan in pain.

 

“I'll manage.”

 

“What if I got Johnny in here and he could supervise?  Might make the situation more comfortable.”

 

“Don't need no supervision.”  

 

“But it'd make you feel better about me helping you, right?”

 

Ghost doesn't answer you.  

 

You snap off your gloves before making him scoot his chair so you can extract yourself from the bathroom, getting in front of him, crouching to get to his level.  Ghost averts his gaze like he did when you first came into his room.

 

“I'm honestly just trying to make you comfortable here, Si.  I know the situation isn't ideal, and you are a stubborn bastard through and through.  You'll do whatever it is you're gonna do, and I'm not about to stop you.  I just want you to know I offer to do things for you because I want to do things for you.  I want to help you in any way that I can.  Not because I feel like I have to.  Not because I feel obligated to do a damn thing for any one of you guys.  And I've never felt like any of you were taking advantage of myself, or my kindness.”

 

You pause for just a moment, waiting to see if he has anything to add.  When he doesn't, you continue.  “I hope you know me well enough by now to realize I'm being genuine with you.  You and I have a sense of honesty with each other that we don't necessarily have with the others.  I consider you one of my closest friends.  My chosen family.  If I didn't like you, I’d have no qualms about telling you to get fucked.  But unfortunately for you, I do kinda like your stubborn ass.  In a completely platonic sort of way.”

 

When he still doesn't say anything, you give him a nod.  Kneeling up and giving him a quick peck to his temple, then standing with a groan when your knees pop.  “Alright.  Mask is drying, I'll leave this stuff in here with you, and if you need something, please just let me know.  Otherwise, I'll just fuck off and leave you be.”

 

You put back on your helmet, mask, and sunglasses, heading towards the door so you can check on the others in the infirmary.

 

But before you can shut the door all the way, “Bring Johnny back this way when you're done with him, Runt.”

 

You look back over at him, giving a quick nod, and pulling the door tightly shut for him.

Notes:

Feel like we've bonded with Simon over loving and caring for Johnny in our own special ways. ❤️

Chapter 47: Exposed

Notes:

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

 

Double post this weekend! Ka-chow!

 

Hope you have/had a wonderful Sunday

“Come on, Runt, spar with me!”

 

You were all in the gym at the host base.  You were helping both Ghost and Johnny with some exercises for their arms, once they were given the all clear to do so.  Ghost was healing remarkably well.  Almost hard to tell he was shot in the arm a little over a week ago.  He was hesitant at letting you work with him at first, but the talk you had not so long ago helped with that.  At least, you hoped it did.  

 

Johnny was doing just fine by this point.  He liked having the excuse of having you help him for as long as possible.  Whining about his arm being stiff, and just needed some help getting all stretched out.

 

“ Please, Runt?  Just once?  And I'll  leave you alone and won't ask you again!”  Gaz was getting restless.  Somehow he still has energy to burn after going against a few soldiers from the host's base.

 

You'd been telling Gaz no, since he still hasn't figured out who you are.  If you went up against him, you figured he'd recognize your style of fighting right away.  Plus you really weren't interested in making a spectacle of yourself.  

 

“I'm holding you to it, Sergeant.  Runt?  Show him what you've got.”  Price chimes in, not looking up from his phone that kept going off every few minutes, you assume Laswell was the one blowing it up.

 

Gaz claps his hands once, rubbing his palms together excitedly.  “Up on your feet, Runt!”

 

You are much slower at getting up, stretching out a little before heading over towards the sparring mat after handing Johnny your sunglasses.  You made sure your mask was in place, pulled up over your nose to keep everything covered.  It was different from Ghost's.  This one was pulled down to expose your face, and while it was always snug and didn't easily slip down, you still checked from time to time.  

 

You left your tac on, hoping it would provide some extra padding.  And hide any of yours.

 

You stretch out a little more, Gaz hopping around as he waits for you on the mat.  Already, people are gathering to watch.  Sanders looks concerned as they approach.  “Sure you wanna go up against Sergeant Garrick?  No offense, but I've gone against him a few times now.  He's really hard to take down.”

 

You had watched the last fight.  Gaz threw Sanders around like a rag doll.  It was comical to watch.  And a little sad.

 

You'd sparred with Gaz more than a few times back home.  Sanders wasn't wrong, Kyle was a pain in the ass to take down.  It was fun trying, though.

 

You waved them off, rolling your eyes as you walked away and got onto the mat.  Johnny, Price, and Ghost all stood off to the side to watch, Simon giving you a nod when you looked over at them.

 

You turn your attention back to Gaz, who is still bouncing around like a kangaroo.  You get into position, standing still for now.

 

“Go!”  Price yells, and Gaz is moving towards you.  You stand still, keeping your stance while Kyle is grinning from ear to ear.

 

“This'll be fun, Runt!  Well, fun for me, cause I'm gon-NAAAH!”  Gaz had tried to move in and grab onto him, and you were low enough to sweep him over your shoulder, flipping him onto his back.  You didn't even bother trying to pin him.  Too early for that.

 

Kyle gets up quickly, brushing himself off.  “Alright, lucky shot.  Let's do this!”  

 

You circle around him, keeping low and holding your center of gravity.  Kyle puts up his fists, bouncing around again.  

 

For fucks sake man, gonna start calling you Tigger.

 

Gaz moves in again, this time successfully grabbing onto you and tries flipping you to the ground in the same way you did him.  You flop yourself, becoming dead weight and making yourself harder to flip.  It takes some effort, but he gets it, then tries to pin you right away.  You easily get yourself out of it, and still on your back you bring your legs up, locking them around his neck, giving a squeeze, cutting off some oxygen before you roll and get back to your feet.

 

“You been teachin’ Runt some moves, Soap?”  Kyle is on his feet again, though not nearly as bouncy as he was before.

 

“Aye, gave Runt some… private lessons.  Why?”  Johnny has a grin on his face as he says this.  Private lessons indeed.

 

“Got some moves like our little miss back home.  You're a tough nut, aren't ya, Runt?”

 

You obviously say nothing, keeping your eyes on him as he moves.  A well placed kick behind the knee takes him down, and you get your arms around his neck to squeeze.  He reaches up and tries to punch you, but you let him go and move away before he can connect.

 

“Oi!  Watch ye're- OW!”  Johnny was about to spill the beans until Ghost punched him in the arm.  Serves Johnny right.  It's a spar, punches are supposed to be thrown.  None of them ever went for your face back home because they didn't want to hurt you.

 

This will be more of a testament to your training.

 

He goes for another punch, and connects this time, a high pitched shriek escaping you as you let go.  That got Gaz's attention.  He looked at you, frowning, giving you a moment to recover before taking a stance towards you.

 

You stumbled around for a second, holding your face.

 

Nice hook, asshole… ow!

 

You stumbled right into Gaz, acting as if you were stunned and knocked him off balance, using it to your advantage and taking him to the ground.

 

It was a tangle of limbs, each of you trying to get a grip on the other, though it was easier for Gaz to get his huge arms around your smaller frame, and you did what you could just trying to deprive him of air.

 

Gaz eventually got behind you, and you tried to reach back with a punch, not connecting fully but getting in a hit.

 

“What'sa matter, Runt?  Arms not long enough?”

 

You try to pull him over across yourself, panting from the effort from the awkward positioning.  You plant your feet flatter onto the mat, twisting yourself a bit and pulling harder, groaning loudly while doing so.  

 

Eventually you get him on his back, crawling on top of him and sitting on his stomach while trying to lean forward on his throat, breathing heavily and staring down at him.  It took him less than a minute to get you off of him, pinning you down onto your back and glaring down at you, breathing hard in his own right.

 

His brow furrows when looking down at you now, trying to catch his breath at the same time.

 

“Hey… wait… do… do I… know you?”

 

You raise your brows, and he leans forward to try to get a better look at you.  “You... eyes… I know those eyes…”

 

You tried to use the distraction to get him off of you, but he doubled down and used all of his strength, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pinning them above you.  You hated how easy that was for him to do.  

 

He started to reach for your mask, and you started shaking your head quickly from side to side.  Trying to make him stop before he pulled the mask down.

 

“That's enough, Sergeant!”  Price calls out, but Gaz is suddenly pulled off of you.  Looking over, Johnny was your savior, and he was speaking harshly to Kyle in a lower tone, Kyle looking over at you.

 

“All of you, on me.  News from Laswell, let's go.”  Price led the way towards the door, but waited for all of you to join him.  Gaz stared daggers at you now, but walked ahead of you to get to Price.  Johnny stood next to you, Ghost behind you as you all walked off to a meeting room.  Once inside, Price locked the door.

 

“Fuck is goin’ on here, Captain?”  Gaz was staring at you again, getting a little heated.

 

“Calm down, Gaz.”  Price gruffed out, patting his pockets until he pulled out a cigar, lighting it and taking some puffs from it, the small room quickly filling with smoke.

 

“Calm down?  How the bloody hell can I when you've kept something from me this whole time?”

 

“My idea, Gaz.  Wanted to see if you noticed.  You failed, by the way.”  Ghost had taken a seat at the table, kicking his feet up onto it.

 

You stand there quietly next to Johnny, who has taken your hand into his, squeezing gently.

 

“So Runt is who I think it is?”  Gaz comes closer to you, getting a better look again.  You look over at Price, tilting your head silently.

 

“Yes, love.  Oyster.”

 

There it is.  You just wanted to make sure.  Now that the safe word is out, you let go of Johnny's hand, unhooking the helmet from under your chin, then pulling down the mask, taking the helmet off and setting it on the table.  It's only when you try to smile at Gaz that you realize your lip is swollen.  You reach up and lightly touch the area, then check your fingers.  No blood at least.  You still offer a smile to Gaz.  Who still looked very displeased.

 

“The whole time it was you, and you didn't tell me?”  He comes around the table to stand in front of you.

 

“I couldn't, Gaz.”

 

“But you told Soap and Ghost right away, didn't you?”

 

“No, Ghost knew who I was the minute I walked out onto the airfield with Price.  Johnny figured it out not long after.  I was ju-”

 

“But you couldn't just come and tell me?  You had to keep it all to yourself?”

 

“Yeah, I did , actually.  You saw Graves, if he knew, he'd be here right now.  I had to keep quiet on the plane, because I couldn't let anyone know who I was.  And once we got here, I was told to not tell you still, because Ghost was making it into a test.”

 

“Shit test that was!”

 

“Can't get mad at her, Gaz.  She was just doing as she was told.”  Ghost put his feet down off the table, turning the chair to look at Kyle.

 

Gaz opened his mouth to fire something back, but shut it for a moment, sighing heavily and deflating.  The anger starting to ebb.  “I… was a little more preoccupied.  Thinking that Soap was being a little too… close and personal with Runt.”

 

You move closer to him and pull him into a hug, patting his back a few times.  “And I appreciate that.  I really do.”

 

He slowly returns the hug.  “Sorry about the lip.  Didn't realize.”

 

“I know.  Not your fault.  Told you boys to be tough with me before and you always held back.  Guess I shoulda thanked my lucky stars you did.”  You pull away and smile up at Gaz.  He's frowning, looking at your fat lip.  “It'll heal, Garrick.  My own fault for not dodging.”

 

He nods before turning his attention to Soap.  “You're a right prick for fucking with me like that, too, ya know.”

 

Johnny chuckles.  “Was tryin’ to drop ye hints this whole time.  Bu’ now ye know who Runt is.  So ye can relax.”

 

You pull back from Gaz finally.  “Still Runt outside of this room.  Not risking it.  I'll be Runt until we get back home.  It'll be better for all of us.”

 

“Better how?”  Gaz looks down at you.

 

“The other soldiers.  Don't want us all to get home and have them go blabbing off about it.  If Graves doesn't know, I wanna keep it that way.  I sneak back to Price's office as Runt, come back as Mrs. MacTavish and have you all just…greet me like you haven't seen me.  If he does know then… fuck if I know we'll cross that bridge when we have to.  If we get me back there under his nose, maybe we can use the ruse again?”

 

“She's not wrong.  Consider this a test run.  If we make it past Graves, we got this.  Time will tell.”  Price finally takes a seat at the table himself, still sucking away on his cigar.  “I really do have some news from Laswell.  Would have waited, then you tried to unmask our poor girl here.”

 

“Yeah, kinda a dick move, Gazatron.  You wouldn't do that shit to Simon.”

 

“He'd rip my head off if I tried that.”

 

“Lucky I didn't rip your head off for trying that with Dove.”  Simon chuckles, raising his arms and placing his hands on top of his head.  Couple of days ago, that move would have taken a lot of effort.  You are happy to see how well he is doing.

 

Gaz sighs, conceding.  “Alright, dick move.  I'm sorry.”

 

“All good, Gazzy.”  You pat him on the head, take his hat off, smack him in the shoulder with it, then put it back on his head lopsided, before turning to Price.  “Anything I need to know, John?”

 

“We'll have to ship out in the next day or two.  You can wait in your room if you like.”  Price stubs out his cigar finally.

 

“Think I'll go back to the gym.  Come find me after, Gaz.  I owe you a spar.”

 

“Holding you to it, little miss.”  

 

Before you can even reach for it, Johnny has your helmet in his hands, helping you latch it underneath your chin as you lift your head up for him, with him carefully sneaking in a kiss to your swollen lips before he lifts your mask back up into place.  

 

“See ye soon, Runt. ”  Soap grins as he opens the door for you to let you out of the room, handing you back your sunglasses.  You put them on before walking out, hearing the door click shut as you make your way back to the gym.

Chapter 48: Bowling Ball

The boys shipped out that very next morning on another mission.  Everyone was healed enough, the intel was good, everything was fresh in their mind.  They were good to go.

 

Something about the intel had Johnny in a mood.  A good mood, but still not entirely like him.  He was way more clingy than his usual.  He had to be touching you, somehow, and didn't let up until he was loading up to leave.  As if letting you go would mean you would disappear in a puff of smoke.  To the point where he wouldn't even shower without you.  So you went in with him, having your back pressed up against the cold shower wall, in the tiny little shower that barely fit you let alone both of you, with Johnny's hands and lips all over you. 

 

---

 

“So does this mean when you get back I get to do what I want with you?”  You had your fingers lightly moving over his skin, massaging his arm that was previously injured.

 

Soap had his face buried against the crook of your neck at that moment, lips lightly kissing.  When he talked, the humming of his voice tickled you and caused your skin to goosebump.  “When I ge’ back, ye won’ be able to move for a few days, le’ alone keep me under ye.”  

 

Fuck me, this man is intoxicating.

 

You giggle at him, moving your hands so your fingertips lightly trace up and down his sides, almost tickling him, making him squirm slightly before he reaches down and grabs your wrists, bringing your arms up and placing your hands against the wall next to your head before he laces his fingers between yours, lifting his head up to look at you.  “Ye drive me fuckin’ crazy, ye know tha’?”

 

You grin and nod, raising your head and kissing him softly.  “If I’m what sends you to the nut hut, I can live with that.”

 

“I'll show ye ‘nut hut’, dollface.”  He tilted down to nip at the skin by your collarbone before moving back to where he was.

 

You giggle again.  “At this rate, it feels like I owe you at least a blow job.”

 

“Nah, ye already owe me one from before.”  He tilted down, kissing softly over your shoulder.

 

“Owe you one for what before?”

 

His lips stop moving, his body stiffening on you.  You frown, tilting your head and trying to get him to look at you.  “Johnny?”

 

Soap slowly lifts his head, a look of worry, maybe even… guilt? -written across his face.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“If I tell ye somethin’, can ye promise me ye won’ be mad?”

 

You nod after a moment, squeezing his hands as he keeps yours pinned, trying to reassure him.

 

“Ye remember how someone sent ye pictures of ye'r ex, and them bein’ all over someone else?”  

 

“Awkward time to be bringing that up, but… yeah?”

 

“It was me, hen.”

 

You frown, tilting your head.  “What was you?”

 

“I sent ‘em to ye.”

 

You frown even harder.  Confused by what he was admitting to.

 

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours.  “We went ou’ for drinks after we go’ back from our mission.  Saw he was there.  Was… well.  No’ gonna give ye all the details.  Took the pics, decided if I was the one sending them, ye migh’ no’ believe it.  So I… hid my number and sent them to ye.”

 

Your face softens as he explains everything to you, tilting and catching his lips with yours when he finishes.  “Not mad at you for that, babes.”

 

“Ye'r no’?”  He looks down at you a little incredulous as you shake your head.

 

“Course not.  However…”  You snake a hand out from under his, catching him by surprise and pinching him on the ass.

 

“Ow!  The hell was tha’ for?”

 

“You heard me make that comment about owing whoever sent me those pics oral, and it was you the whole time!  So that was for keeping it from me!”  

 

“Oi!  Jus for tha’?”  He leans in and bites your neck with a growl, making you gasp and grab onto his bicep while he pressed you tighter against the shower wall.  “I coulda admitted to it righ’ there and called ye on your bluff, princess !”

 

“Who the hell said I was bluffing?” 

 

“No way would ye have dropped to ye'r knees for me if I tol’ ye I had sent them.”

 

“Now we'll never know for sure, will we?” You give him a little smug look as he glowered down at you after lifting his head.

 

“Ye're lucky I love ye, ye know tha’?”

 

“Count my lucky stars every day for it, Johnny.”  You smile up at him, and his face softens, leaning in and kissing you for a moment.

 

“So how abou’ when I get back here from the mission, ye show me jus’ how much ye missed me?”  He flashes that fucking grin at you.  

 

Goddamn that grin .

 

“Sure.  But right now?  We need to get out of here before the hot water runs out.”

 

---

 

The next morning, when they got in a chopper to head out, there was something about all of them that made you uneasy.  It was more than just the anxiety of them heading out in missions.

 

This was different.  Something heavy that settled low in your stomach, almost like you swallowed a bowling ball.  You tried to ignore it, because the more you thought about it, the urge to empty the contents of your stomach grew.  You fought like hell to keep your composure in front of the boys.  You had to.  For them.  The feeling unfortunately didn't go away after they left.  If anything, it became worse.  Until you actually did start throwing up.

 

It's been almost a week since they left.  At the moment, you were watching a training session.  Off to the side, out of the way, but able to see everything.  It was between the soldiers that didn't go out on mission.  Ones from your home base, and some from the host base.  Your hosts’ soldiers were very impressive.  A lot of their moves were similar, but executed much more smoothly.  You watched closely, taking everything in, hoping if Johnny didn't get to see this training personally, you could show him and possibly start incorporating it with the recruits back home.

 

Home… seemed a million miles away.  It wasn't even really your home.  It was a military base.  Your home went up in flames, thanks to Makarov and his people torching the place.  

 

You dream of the 141 finally being able to retire.  Maybe after they catch Makarov they will be able to get out of the military early.  They could get a gigantic plot of land, a house or even a cabin for each of them.  Out in the middle of nowhere.  No one able to find them.

 

Peace.  Solace.  Tranquility.

 

You weren't quite sure where you fit into any of this.  It was your dream for them.  And as much as you wanted to include yourself in that dream?  You couldn't let yourself.  Even after everything.  Maybe one day you can get it through to yourself that they love you.  That they want to keep you around.  But today isn't that day.

 

You were about to head off to your room, getting uncomfortable under all your gear as the day progressed and the temperatures rose, until Sanders came over to you, looking heated, dehydrated, and a little in pain as he panted, holding onto their side.

 

“Guess I should be happy Sergeant MacTavish doesn't work us nearly this hard, eh?”

 

For now.  You shrug your shoulders, moving them up more than usual to make your body language more exaggerated and obvious.  You then give him a light pat on the shoulder and walk away, heading towards the barracks as you try not to laugh about the absolute absurdity of it all.

 

Except you don't make it all that far when you hear helicopters off in the distance.  You turn heel and make your way to the airfield to where the helipad is situated.  If these were your boys, you wanted to be there the second they touched down.  You didn't hurry, as you had plenty of time to get there.  

 

But as you got closer to the airfield, your heart sank as the bowling ball feeling in your stomach came back,  even heavier than before they left.  

 

There were always a couple of medics on standby when some aircraft came in for a landing.  You found this was standard protocol, and it made sense.  If there were known injuries on board, some back boards and more medics were at the ready to take them to the infirmary.

 

This… this was something you never saw before.

 

It looked as though every single medic on base was on the airfield.  Actual stretchers were being ran out into the sidelines of the helipad.  Four of them, to be exact.

 

You ran the rest of the way, only being stopped by Sanders before you could get too close.  You wondered how the hell he even got there so fast.  “Hold back for now, Runt  There's been some injuries and some casualties, but no one has been told who they are just yet.”

 

You went passed him, not giving a fuck at the moment, needing to know what happened and what conditions your boys were in.  

 

Sanders grabbed you by wrapping an arm around your stomach, stopping you from going any closer.  “Give them room.  There's some injuries that need to be worked on quickly.”

 

You fought to get the arm off of you, trying to get closer, but couldn't get out of his grasp.  Eventually you couldn't fight anymore, on the verge of breaking down entirely.  Every second that ticked by seemed like forever.

 

The first chopper lands and a team of medic converge, loading up one, then two soldiers onto the gurneys.  They looked like they went to hell and were trying to claw their way back out of it.  The first two gurneys were then rushed towards the infirmary, and the chopper rose from the ground.  

 

Once it was airborne, another chopper landed and took it's place.  

 

First off was Captain Price.  He helps load up the two injured from the chopper he was on, and as those gurneys are whisked off towards the infirmary as well, the chopper lifts off.  

 

No…

 

Oh no…

 

You get away from Sanders and run to Price, not stopping until you reach him.  He had his hands halfway in the air, as if he were surrendering to you.  “Easy there, Runt.”

 

You stop directly in front of him, glaring up at him from behind your disguise, fighting the urge to rip it off and scream at him.  His face is bloodied, swollen, and his chin has a bruise blooming.  Price grabs you on your bicep and starts leading you away from people, out of ear shot from being heard.

 

“There's not an easy way to say this, love.  Our boys got hurt.  Can't tell you about it just yet, but I promise I will.  What I will tell you is…  well… Gaz and Soap got the brunt of it.”  

 

Your legs start to feel like jello.  The imaginary bowling ball in your stomach just gained four-hundred pounds.  Before you could go down, Price was grabbing you more, keeping you upright, tilting his head down so his lips are by your ear.

 

“I know, I know love.  I'm sorry I'm the one tellin’ ya.  Listen.  Our boys, they are right where they need to be now, and the doctors are working on them.  Right now, need ya to come back with me to the barracks.  Help me pack everything up, we won't be coming back here.  You help me with this, then we can fuck off out of here, and I'll take you to them.”  Price still has his grip on you, still afraid you might topple over on him.

 

You nod quickly, turning towards the barracks and running as fast as your legs can take you, packing up everything of yours and Johnny's, opening drawers and looking under the bed, making sure nothing gets left behind.

 

Once all your things and Johnny's are shoved into the bags, you go check on Price.  He's in Ghost's quarters, packing his things.  He stops in the midst of everything, hands in the air slightly, turning and looking around.  There's a bookshelf on the wall by the bed.  Price pokes around a little and procures one of Ghost's knives.

 

Bet there's more than that hidden in there.

 

You head off into Gaz's room, shoving everything haphazardly into his duffel.  You don't know how he managed to fit so much stuff in there, and you had a hell of a time getting the bag closed.  You had to sit on it in order to get it to zip shut.  

 

You quickly grabbed his bag, struggling a little to get it out into the hallway because of it's weight, dropping it and doing one last sweep of both rooms to make sure nothing was forgotten.  

 

Price came out of Ghost's room carrying his bag.  You shove the strap of your bag over yourself, making sure it's secure in place before picking up Soap's, wrapping the strap around your arm as much as possible and lifting it.  You go to grab Gaz's bag, but Price beats you to it.

 

“The hell did Gaz pack in this bloody thing?”  Price asks no one, adjusting his grip before picking up Ghost's and his own bags.  You felt a little guilty only carrying the two bags to his three, though are a little grateful you didn't have to struggle getting Gaz's bag out of there.

 

John leads you back out to the airfield, loading you up into the helicopter and tossing all the bags inside, climbing in and adjusting them so they wouldn't fall out.  “You ever been in a chopper before, Love?”

 

You shake your head no, taking a seat and trying to figure out the fucking straps on the stupid motherfucking harness so you can buckle the fuck in and get the FUCK out of-

 

“Easy, Runt.  Easy.”  Price has his hands on yours now, waiting for you to still and finally look at him.  “We're going right to them.  Alright?  Swear on it.  When we get there, you change into your civies, and we find out how they're doing.”

 

You hesitate a moment before nodding your head.  As much as you complained to yourself about the mask, you were grateful for it now.  So it could hide the tears flowing down your cheeks in small rivers.  So you could close your eyes and mutter to yourself, praying to every deity you could think of for the boys to be ok.

 

Price buckled you in expertly, tugging the straps.  Once you were secure, he grabbed a headset and placed it on you, adjusting it over your ears and turning them on.  He then grabs one for himself and gets it turned on.

 

“ Right, comms broadcast to all occupants, but you still aren't to say anything Runt.  Just having you listen in.”

 

You nod and watch as Price takes the seat next to you, strapping himself in.  Sanders and two other soldiers you don't recognize hop in and sit on the opposite side of the helo, grabbing headsets for each of them and getting settled in.

 

“ Let's get this show on the road !”  You hear someone shout into the headset. Sounded like they had a heavy Russian accent.  

 

“Get us outta here, Nik.” Price calls out into his headset.

 

It wasn't long before you felt the helicopter rising off the ground, and you grabbed onto anything you could get your hands on.  You didn't like the feeling.  Price reached out and grabbed one of your hands, then the other, stacking your hands on top of each other and placing them onto his knee before putting his hand on top of yours, giving a gentle squeeze.

 

You looked up at Price who only nodded at you.  You nodded back at him, shifting one hand to grab on tightly to his, holding it the rest of the flight.  Looking across at Sanders, he gives you a look.  You lean your head back and close your eyes, not wanting to deal with his judgment right now.

 

You just need to get to your boys.  And not lose every last bit of your sanity in the process.

Chapter 49: Not Yet

You landed on the roof of whatever hospital you were taken to, Price helping unstrap you once the bird touched down. He then grabbed your duffel bag and helped you out of the helo, keeping your hand in his as you walked towards the elevator.

 

“You three, stay here on the roof. Patrol the area for now. Move!” Price calls out to Sanders and the other soldiers, who shout an affirmative as Price hits a button on the elevator.

 

You go down for some time before the elevator stops and the doors slide open. Your hand still in his, Price leads you down a few hallways before walking you into an empty patient room. Inside, he sets your bag down and lets go of you, shutting the door and locking it. As soon as the lock clicks, you tear off the glasses and the mask, throwing them aside.

 

Price stops you before you can even speak. “Before I tell you anything, I want you to clean up. Shower, change of clothes. I will explain things to you. I promised you, love.”

 

You huff out a breath, removing the helmet and throwing it into a corner. You grab your bag, swinging it and greasing it to let it fly into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.  

 

You aren't trying to take it out on Price. So you take it out on your own things.

 

Locking the door you turn on the water before you strip and pull your shower things from your bag, adjusting the temperature before you move under the stream. It's warmer than you usually like, but burning off a layer of skin is nothing compared to whatever hell your boys just went through.

 

You try to hurry with washing and doing a very limited version of your normal shower routine. You know Price wanted you to take the opportunity to calm down, but you can't.  

 

Not yet. 

 

Barely six minutes later and you emerge from the bathroom, hair still dripping wet, shirt wet from your hair, hop-hopping to get your leggings up high enough on your body so the waist sits where you like it.  

 

Price is sitting on the ledge next to the window, body twisted for him to look outside. Though as you opened the door he turned his head to look at you. His face was blank. At least, he tried to keep it that way. His eyes gave him away though.

 

You quickly wrap your hair in a towel before walking over and sitting on the opposite side of the ledge. You bring your feet up and place your knees up towards our chest. Wrapping your arms around them and making yourself small. Not saying anything to Price.  

 

Not yet.

 

Price sighs, patting around on his pockets and finding a cigar. He pulls out his lighter, then suddenly remembers that this is a hospital. With a sigh he stuffs the lighter back into his pocket, but keeps the cigar in his mouth.

 

You remain silent, having watched the little show he's put on for you. You're trembling now, your anxiety spiking to a level you've felt only once, maybe twice before.

 

You know Price is delaying the inevitable. You don't want to be the one to break the silence. You want to hear it from the Captain. Their superior. Their boss. Their friend.

 

Price's cell phone rings when he is about to speak. Mumbling frustrations from under his breath, he finds the pocket with the phone. “Price. Yes. She's here, Simon.” He tilts his head and looks at you, as if he has to confirm it to himself despite being the one that brought you here.

 

“Been working on it… We just go– fine, eleven minutes ago we arrived, Lieutenant.  Stay with them. I have soldiers on the roof patrolling, and when I am– Ghost, I said stay wi-.” He sighs and looks at his phone. Apparently Simon hung up on him.

 

“I'll reprimand his arse later.” He tries to smile at you, but it quickly fades. He shifts, closing the distance between the two of you. He takes his boonie hat from his head, setting it on the ledge next to him, and gives you his full attention. Placing a hand on your knee and squeezing.

 

Fuck, I'm gonna be sick.

 

“The first few days on mission went well. I know, no details. Just… they went well. That last day was what went to shit. Yesterday, technically speaking.”

 

Yesterday…

 

“Love, if I could've come for ya sooner I would have.”

 

You nod, closing your eyes and placing your head against your legs. Still listening, just not able to look at him. “You have a duty to take care of your men above all else, John. I know that. Probably better than anyone. If I found out you left them when they needed you most, I'd have kicked your ass myself.”

 

Price sighs again. “We were attacked by Makarov's men. Tunnels in a desert. They had gas in them. And there was… an explosion. Ghost and I, we were ahead of it. Gaz and Soap…”

 

You wrap your arms around your legs tighter, tears rolling down your cheeks. You tried not to picture what must have happened, but you can't stop your brain.  

 

“They're alive, love. Just… in pretty bad shape. They-”

 

There's pounding on the door. You barely even flinch, staying just like you are. Price sighs, releasing your knee, and you hear him making his way to the door and unlocking it.

 

“Simon, I told you to stay with them.”

 

Simon…

 

“Made a promise to Johnny, old man.”

 

Promise? What promise?

 

You hear boots shuffle, and a rush of footsteps towards you, a hand placed on your back. “Can you look at me, Dove?”

 

You hesitate a moment before lifting your head to look at him. Ghost's eyes are red and bloodshot, probably not too different from what yours look like at the moment. Though there is a noticeable wheeze as he breathes in and out. A slight whistle, even.

 

Slowly he places his gloved hand to your cheek, which you lean into and close your eyes for a minute, your own hand shaking as it moves towards his mask covered cheek.

 

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dove.”

 

You shake your head at him, letting go long enough to unfurl your legs and body slowly, carefully as you had grown stiff sitting in that position for some time. You dangle your legs off the ledge and pull Ghost into a hug, holding tightly onto him, gripping onto the back of his hoodie. “This isn't your fault.”

 

“Dove, I-”

 

“Don't. He's alive. They both are. You said you would bring them all home, and you did. Don't apologize for that.” You bury your face against his shoulder, but pull away quickly when he lets out a hiss. You look him over now, seeing his arm is tucked inside the hoodie he has on. You look up at him as you furrow your brow.

 

“Talk about it later.” He uses his good arm to pull you down from the window ledge, getting you steady on your feet before he starts leading you to the door. You whip off the towel from your hair, not caring that you'll look feral until you run a brush through your hair. John opens it for the both of you, then follows you both. Ghost has a slight limp as he walks, which he is trying so hard to ignore, but you make him slow down and lean against you as a shitty crutch.

 

At the elevator again, he pushes the call button and the doors open immediately. You help Ghost shuffle inside, holding the door for Price.

 

“Go with Ghost, love. Gonna head to the roof and talk to the men.”

 

You let go of Ghost, having him hold the door for you while you give John a quick hug, kissing him on the cheek before walking back inside the elevator and letting the doors close. Ghost slaps the number six on the panel, and the elevator moves.

 

A short ride later, the elevator stops and the doors roll open. You stuff yourself against Ghost's side and let him take the lead, going down some hallways and going through huge heavy doors that led you into the ICU.

 

First he took you in with Gaz. He was out cold, tubes going in and coming out all over. A nose cannula for oxygen. You have Simon sit down as you got closer to the hospital bed, looking Kyle over and taking note of everything. You lean over the bed and lightly run your fingers over his cheek.

 

“Hey, Kyle. Price came and got me, so you get to deal with my annoying self. I hope you know that you'll be sick of my voice by the time you do finally wake up.” You lean over and kiss his temple, adjusting the blanket on him. Watching him for a moment before you turn and walk over towards Simon. He nods and stands, taking your hand and leading you next door.

 

The curtain is shut in Johnny's room, so you try to hold the two of you back. Simon barrels ahead, sliding the door open and leading the way inside, holding the curtain open for you.

 

You stop just inside, gasping as your hands fly to your face, covering your nose and mouth, your face instantly wet with tears again. That bowling ball feeling sunk so low now, you rush into the bathroom attached to Johnny's room, emptying what little you had in your stomach into the toilet, trying to be quiet to not alert the nurse or Ghost to what you were doing.  

 

Shaking, you flush the toilet before turning on the faucet in the sink. You rinse out your mouth and wash your hands, using a paper towel from the dispenser to dry your face, closing your eyes and grasping onto the sides of the sink, almost feeling as if you'll throw up again.

 

Breathe in through the nose. Out through the mouth. You can do this. You gotta do this.

 

You'd seen the tubes and wires all over Johnny, much like with Kyle. Only so much more. So… so much more.

 

He had wires attached to his head, his chest, and down his legs. Tubes going into the back of his hand and arms, and tubes coming from out of his chest and his stomach. Gauze wrapped around his head, and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

 

He's breathing on his own… that's good.

 

Running your fingers through your hair in a half assed attempt to tame the mane, you make yourself emerge from the bathroom, watching the nurse move around Johnny, checking monitors and IV bags and inputting data on the nearby computer. Eventually she turns and acknowledges Ghost, but then sees you at the door.

 

“You must be Mrs. MacTavish? I'm your husband's nurse for the time being. It's ok, you can come closer. He is sedated quite heavily at the moment to make him comfortable. I will give you some time with him. Please let me know if you need anything.”

 

The nurse makes her exit, sliding the door shut behind her. You stay where you are, crossing your arms tight over your stomach and holding yourself. Standing there and looking at him, not wanting to get any closer to him.

 

Not yet…

 

Ghost makes his way back over towards you, looking very worried while wrapping his arm across your shoulders, slowly coaxing you closer to Johnny.  

 

In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

 

The two of you walk together to Johnny's bedside. There doesn't seem to be any bit of skin that isn't bruised, bloodied, tubed, or wired. You turn to Simon, pressing your face against his good arm for a moment, trying to calm down and at least slow the tears.

 

Strong. You have to be strong. For him. Come on. You can do this. For them.

 

Pulling away from Ghost, you grab the chair nearby and set it up for him and have him sit by the bed. You feel bad, making him stand for so long.

 

Eventually you move to Johnny, placing your face next to his, hand on top of his head, lightly running your fingers through his mohawk. Your voice breaking, but trying to regain composure.

 

“Hi, honey. It's me. Price brought me here... He told me what happened.” You shift closer to him, closing your eyes, whispering even quieter.

 

“Come back to me, babes. You've gotta fight like hell and come through this. You survived a bullet to that gigantic head of yours. You can survive this, baby. Cause I swear if you leave me alone with that big bastard, I'll never forgive you. I'll find a way to haunt your ass, even while I'm still alive.” You try to joke, but it falls completely flat. You stand on your tippy toes to reach far enough to kiss his forehead before resting your own to his.

 

It takes a while for you to finally move away, grabbing the other chair and setting it right next to Simon and sitting. He reaches over and grabs onto your hand, pulling it to his chest and holding it there.

 

“What'd you promise?” You ask while leaning your head against Ghost's good shoulder.

 

“Hm?”

 

“You told Price that you promised Johnny something.”

 

Simon lets out a sigh, tilting his head down to rest his on top of yours. “Promised him I'd look after you.”

 

You nod slightly, not trying to jostle him too much. “Well. You're pretty much stuck with my ass no matter what at this point, Si-bear.”

 

“Si-bear?”

 

“That bear you gave me is one of my most prized possessions, I'll have you know. I've cuddled that thing a few dozen times with you all out on missions. Packed it with me, even though I didn't know I was coming with you guys. Even though it makes Johnny slightly jealous.”

 

“That's why I gave it to you in the first place. Finally made his stubborn ass tell you how he really felt, didn't it?”

 

“Is that what it'll take for you to finally get off your ass and tell the nurse back home you have a thing for her? A Johnny-bear with a mohawk?” 

 

“Don't get any ideas, Dove.”

 

“Too late. The ideas are already brewing.” You sigh heavily, bringing a hand up and wiping the tears from your face, sniffling. “Anything I need the look at?”

 

Ghost sits there quietly, as if contemplating your words. “Should be fine.”

 

“So that's a yes.”

 

“Dove-”

 

“No, what you're not gonna do is argue with me, Simon Riley. Not gonna lose you to some fucking infection because you want to be a stubborn ass. I'll take you down if I have to, so help me...” You huff out.

 

After a moment you take in a breath and sit up straighter. “First off, I'll see about getting Gaz and Johnny in one room. That way we can all sit vigil with both of them at the same time and not have to bounce back from room to room.”

 

“They won't allow it, already told them it's what we wanted.”

 

“You can't just tell them what to do. There's a certain… je ne sais quoi to it.”

 

Simon grunts, not saying anything for a minute. “How'd you mean?”

 

“You don't tell them anything. You ask nicely. You thank them for everything that they do, and thank them again for taking care of loved ones. Add in copious amounts of caffeine and quick accessible snacks they can shove down their gob in between patients, and you may or may not get somewhere.  Either way, it's the least that can be done taking care of any member of the TASK Force.”

 

Simon shakes his head, and you lightly pat him on the knee. “You just sit back and be your broody self, I'll take care of things. And when I get back, I'm checking you over. Johnny'll supervise, he'll just be looking at the back of his eyelids.” You stand, releasing your hand from Simon's, and walk to the bed.  Lifting Johnny's hand ever so carefully and planting kisses on his fingers. “I'll be right back, sweetheart. Not going far.”  

 

You carefully extract yourself from the room, going about making a plan to kiss any and every ass in this unit to try to get the boys in the same room.

 

My poor boys…

 

 

 

 

Chapter 50: Sleeping Beauties

“ ...”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

Ugh… the fuck am I?

 

Why the fuck's it so dark?

 

Where…  Ghost?  Ghost, how copy?

 

Bravo Six?  Captain?

 

Gaz?!  Gaz, can ye hear me?!  Damnit Gaz, talk to me!

 

I'm in the fuckin’ blind here, can anyone fuckin’ hear me?

 

Christ, what the bloody fu-

 

Have we been captured?  Tha’ why it's so dark here?  Can’ see anythin’.

 

Ghost?!   Hells fuckin’ bells…

 

Where am I?

 

Where are we?

 

Where's…

 

 

---

It took a lot of conversation, a lot of ass kissing, and a few phone calls to Laswell.  But by the next morning they were wheeling Gaz into Johnny's room, maneuvering equipment and beds but making everyone and everything fit in one room.

 

More soldiers arrived at the hospital.  You'd asked Ghost and Price about it separately.  Both told you the same.  That with the attacks on the boys, it was best to be safe should anyone come looking to finish the job.

 

It makes sense.  But somehow it doesn't feel like the only reason.

 

You and Simon are yet again with the boys.  You'd climbed up onto Gaz's bed for the moment, taking a washcloth and cleaning his face.  Some official looking people had been in, taking swabs of the boys’ skin.  

 

To see if the explosive could be identified, you'd been told.

 

There was some blood here and there that you were able to wipe away.  The nurses would give a better bed bath later.  But you just wanted to keep busy as you talked to him.

 

“You just wait, Gazatron.  When you open those pretty brown eyes of yours, and you give the nurses one look?  You'll have them wrapped around your finger in no time.

 

That makes Simon chuckle.  He's in the chair next to Soap's bed, leg propped up at your insistence.  Luckily his wounds were mostly superficial.  Nothing fractured.  Scratches that you smothered with antibiotic ointments.  A cut here and there.  You coaxed him into an actual brace for his ankle to give it some stability.  He refused to wear a sling for his arm.

 

“Maybe it's ok that you aren't in here, Simon.  You'd just be scaring all the nurses away.”

 

“Would be for the best, Dove.  Maybe scare them into Gaz's arms.”

 

“Well in that case, w-”

 

“ Don't finish that sentence.”

 

You sigh, drying Kyle's face with another cloth and kissing his forehead before climbing down, turning away from Ghost to hide a yawn while pretending to busy yourself.

 

“You should go find something to eat and get some sleep, Dove.  I'll hold down the fort.”

 

“You first, Simon.”  You turn and look at him finally, hands on your hips and smirking at him.  You know just as well as anyone that'll never happen.

 

“You need it more.”

 

“Don't argue with me, mister.”  You raise a brow at him, almost daring him.

 

The door to the room opens, Price quietly making his way further in.  Heavy bags under his eyes to let you know he hasn't had much sleep.  The smell of him at least tells you he's had a chance to shower.  “Hello, Love.  Simon.’

 

“Captain.”  You and Simon chime out simultaneously.  

 

It makes Price pause, looking between the two of you before setting a coffee down on a table.  “Hmmph.  You two are dismissed.  I'm taking some time with our boys.  Something happens, I'll let you know.”

 

“Yeah… no.  I'm staying here, John.”

 

Price and Simon's eyes are on you, both wearing a matching scowl.  “Not a discussion, love.”

 

“Great.  Glad you see things my way.”  You shift and cross your arms over your chest.

 

“Dove.”  Simon removes his leg from its perch and shifts in his chair.

 

“I'm the most rested of the two of you, and besides I'm not finished cleaning them up yet.”

 

Simon goes to stand, trying to hide the wobble of his leg before going to his full height, mimicking you and crossing his arms over his chest.

 

You sigh, moving your hands to your hips again.  “There are soldiers posted at the door.  I have my phone.  I will call and text and spam your phones should there be any changes.  Go eat, go rest, go do what you need to do, but I am not leaving them yet.  When you boys have got your shit together, we'll talk then.”

 

Simon glances over at Price, who was already grumbling out curses under his breath as he picks up the coffee cup he had just set down and heads to the door.  “Move out.”  He gruffs out while passing by Simon and sliding open the door.  

 

Simon nods once as he keeps his eyes on you for a moment, slowly making his way to the door and following Price, sliding it shut behind him.

 

You breathe out quickly, not realizing you had held your breath.  You grab onto an IV pole, grounding yourself for a moment as that bowling ball feeling comes back.

 

“Sorry you had to hear that, boys.”

 

You grab the washcloths you were using on Gaz, rinsing and wringing them out and setting them aside in a pile you've decided is for dirty laundry.  Taking out two fresh clothes, you wet one of them and wring it out before going to Johnny.  

 

Carefully you climb up onto his bed, minding all the tubes and wires coming out of him.  Taking the wet cloth you carefully glide it over his face, collecting some dirt along with his sweat and blood.

 

“What am I gonna do with you?”  You ask, not expecting any answer.  Though a part of you wishes he'd pop those beautiful blue eyes open, look at you, and make some smart ass comment.

 

But he lays there, breathing steadily.  You carefully lift the mask just long enough to swipe over his nose and lips before placing it back as it was.

 

“Well.  What I want to do is get a new place out in the middle of nowhere.  With a nearby lake to finally take you fishing.  Cause I love you and everything, but just the thought of taking any one of you back to base is just…  heartbreaking.”

 

You kept glancing at his eyelids as you folded the cloth and cleaned more of his face, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying again.  You clear your throat before you talk again.  “At this point, the military can get fucked.  You've all more than earned an early retirement.  I voted.  That makes it completely legit.”

 

After watching Johnny for a minute, you carefully pull the oxygen mask down, sitting up on your knees and planting a soft kiss to his lips before putting the mask back where it belongs once again.

 

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty…

---

Where are we?

 

Can anyone hear me?!

 

Bravo team, can anyone read me?

 

FUCK!

 

Alrigh’.  Focus, Soap.  Focus.  

 

Ye're Sergeant John MacTavish and belong to Task Force 141.

 

There's five of ye.  MacTavish, Garrick, Riley, Price, and La-

 

No… no wait… four, there's four of us.

 

Why did I think there's five?

 

Me.

 

Price.

 

Gaz.

 

Ghost.

 

Four.  Four of us.

 

But… no… someone's missing…

 

My… wife?

 

No.  No’ married.  

 

Fuck.

---

In the bathroom while you were rinsing out the rags you used to clean off Johnny, you hear a groaning coming from behind you.  Quickly turning off the water, you step back into the room and wait for it to happen again. It takes a minute before Gaz starts making noise, monitors starting to beep.

 

You make your way to his bedside, talking quietly to him, remembering what it was like when you woke up in the hospital, also turning off the light next to his bed.  “Hey, I'm here, Gaz.  Can you open them eyes for me?”

 

The door to the room slides open, the curtain being pulled back to reveal two nurses coming into the room.  You carefully move out of the way for them as they start looking over the monitors and checking vitals, going to the other side of Johnny's bed and grabbing his hand carefully.

 

With your free hand you tug your phone out of your bra, not having missed the device as you had kept it hidden away in your bag since you had to hide our identity, and shoot off a text to Price and Ghost.

 

---

 

You:  Gaz is waking up.

 

Price:  We’ll head back, love.

 

Ghost:  Johnny?

 

You:  Not yet.

---

 

Gaz sighs heavily, a leg twitching as he moves his head a few times.  The nurses are talking amongst themselves for a moment before one of them turns to you.  “He may respond to you if you wanna try again?”

 

You nod, clearing your throat before you respond.  “Kyle, hon?  Can you hear me?”

 

“L…Li-”

 

“Easy.  Slow and easy for me, yeah?  Take your time.  I'm right here.”

 

“So are we, Sergeant.”  Price says from behind you.

 

You jump, having not heard Price enter the room.  He and Ghost are next to you now, Ghost setting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently.  You reach up and put your free hand on top of his, your other hand still holding Johnny's as you start to use your thumb to rub soft circles into it.  

 

“Miss…”

 

Price shifts and stands at the foot of Johnny's bed, stopping himself from getting in anyone's way but wanting to be closer to his friend.

 

“I'm here, Gazatron.  We're all here.”

 

Simon squeezes your shoulder more.  You shift your body, taking Ghost's hand from your shoulder and easing it down so he can take your place holding Soap's hand, extracting yourself and moving closer to Gaz.

 

One nurse waves you over, so you try to squeeze yourself in up closer to his face, lightly running the back of your fingers across his cheek.  “Hey, bud.  We got you.  You're alright.”

 

“Soap?”  Gaz coughs, his face scrunching from pain.

 

“He's here.  Right next to you.  See?”

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Kyle's eyes flutter a few times before they crack open the tiniest bit.  “Hey there, handsome.”

 

You carefully help him turn his head to peek over at Soap, with Ghost and Price there next to him.  You step back to give the nurses room again, his eyes opening a little more as time goes on, frowning while he tries to comprehend everything.

 

“We'll let the doctor know so he can come have a look at your… brother, right Mrs. MacTavish?”  One of the nurses looks over towards you, then back at Gaz, and you smile.

 

“Yup, brother.  One of us is adopted.  Don't tell him that, though.”

 

“Mum never… told you?”  Gaz has the tiniest smirk on his face as his eyes close. 

 

“She just didn't want you to feel like the bla-... feeling any different about anything.”  You wipe some tears as you smile, only moving back to him as the nurses left the room.

 

Gaz's eyes peek open again, tilting to look over at Johnny, the smirk replaced with a look more serious.

 

“Bad?”

 

You press your lips together, unsure of how to answer right away.  “We don't know just yet, bud.  He's still trying to catch up on beauty sleep.”  You give Gaz's wrist a squeeze.

 

“Covered me… before…”  Gaz closes his eyes and turns his head away.  You slide your fingers between his. 

 

“I'm sorry, sweetie  Want me to fuck off and leave you alone for a bit?”

 

Gaz doesn't say anything, but you still lean over and kiss him on the cheek before letting him go and taking a few steps back, turning to face Johnny and the boys and give Gaz a moment.

 

Simon and Price are looking at you, their eyes reflecting some of your own sadness as you all realize what Gaz was trying to say.

 

Johnny used himself as Gaz's meat shield.

 

Johnny saved Gaz.

 

Because of course he would sacrifice himself in order to save someone else.  How many times has he done that before?

 

You looked down at Johnny's bruised face, your heart breaking apart even more.  Your fingers go to his hair again, lightly running your fingers through the mohawk while ever so gently scratching his scalp.

 

If you weren't sure of just how much you loved Johnny right before this moment, you are definitely sure of it now.

 

 

---

 

 

Four.

 

Four…

 

Five…

 

Five?

 

Me.  Ghost.  Gaz.  Cap.  

 

“...’m sor-...fuc-...-r a bit?”

 

Ahhhh…  why does tha’ hurt?

 

And who is tha’?

 

They sound…  nice…

 

Ok, whoever is doin’ tha’ to my head… don’ stop.  

 

It's funny, cause Hen would do that to me all… the… time…

 

Hen…

 

Hen?

---

 

 

“Right.  You and Simon go.  Get some rest.  Not gonna argue with you, love.  Just go and let me talk to my Sergeant.”

 

You glare at Price for a minute, before your face softens and you let out a quick heavy sigh.  “You aren't supposed to use my own words against me, John.”

 

Price gives you a cheeky little smile, and you roll your eyes at him before leaning over to kiss Johnny's temple, removing your hand and fixing his hair before you walk around the bed, holding your arm out to Ghost.  

 

Ignoring your arm, Ghost exits the room as quickly as he can, with you not far behind.  Once you both leave the ICU wing, Simon stops and lets you catch up, also letting you grab his arm and support on the side with the bad ankle.

 

“Supposed to be looking after you, Dove.”

 

“Stop getting hurt and you might actually be able to do that, ya goober.”

 

Simon laughs.  “Fat chance of that happening anytime soon.”

 

You hum in agreement, leading him off towards the hospital cafeteria.  

Chapter 51: Moment

Hen…

 

Hen..?

 

She's… she's no’…

 

…is she?

 

My friend.  My best friend.  

 

My…

 

Mine ..?

 

No.  No’ mine.

 

Fuck.  Get it together Soap.

 

Where the hell are ye, Ghost?

 

Need ye're help abou’ now!

---

“Got any fives?”

 

“...”

 

“Si?”

 

“...”

 

“Siiiiiimoooon?”  You call his name in a sing-song voice to get his attention.

 

“This is fuckin’ stupid, Dove.”  Ghost slaps his cards face down on the table and crosses his arms over his chest.

 

You roll your eyes hard at him.  “You only say that because you keep losing.  And since Gaz has neither the brain power nor the proper amount of clothes on to play strip poker, this is one of the few things we can do.”

 

A chuckle from Gaz, who quickly clears his throat, as if he didn't find any part of that funny.  “He has a point, miss lit– little miss.”  

 

You look at Gaz over the top of your cards, pursing your lips together behind them.  Since waking up two days ago, he has jumbled some words around here and there.  Not surprising considering all he has been through.  Still worrisome to you, though you are ever so thankful he is up and awake, sitting in a comfy patient chair with his legs propped up.

 

“Think we could play something a little more up to our speed than ‘go fish’, Love.”  Price's cheek rises with a smirk as he shuffles around the cards he is holding, glancing up at you.

 

You sigh, setting your cards face down onto Gaz's tray table and lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest while bringing a hand up, rubbing hard at your eyes until you start seeing a kaleidoscope of colors, which you then drop your hand and let your eyes adjust.  “I'm trying to break up some of the monotony around here, boys.”

 

“You have been.  This is just a game's… child's game.”  Gaz is trying to be helpful.  You know that.

 

You let out a quiet giggle.  “Even more fitting then, as often as the four of you act like children.”

 

Price's phone starts going off, which he scowls at after he fishes it from his pocket.  He taps away on it for a moment before laying it face down on the table.  “Perhaps we could play something else, hmm?”

 

Simon's phone now dings, which he pulls out and frowns at.  You don't miss the look he gives the captain before fiddling with his own phone, then copies the captain by laying it face down on the table.

 

“Fine.  You boys can entertain yourselves.”  You push your chair out, stretching out your hands above your head, groaning and leaning back as far as you can in the chair and letting your back crack, letting out a sigh of relief as your arms drop back down towards the floor.  Still laying backwards and almost upside down you look over at Johnny, his eyes still closed, having not opened them in what seems like forever.

 

You sit up straight in your chair, cracking your neck from side to side before you stand and kick your chair a little so it's out of your way.

 

“Where you goin, dove?”  Simon looks concerned as he watches you.

 

“I have to pee.  I'm a big girl now, so you don't have to hold my hand or anything!”  You grin at Simon, who just rolls his eyes at you.

 

Once you get into the bathroom and lock the door, you head right to the sink.  You take a paper towel, splashing it under cold water and patting your face with it.  

 

The weight of everything was trying to come crashing down on you.  You had tried to keep your emotions and your feelings tucked down and kept under wraps this whole time, but your resolve was starting to wane.

 

You do your business and wash your hands, finally looking at yourself in the mirror.  The dark circles and eyebags may just be a permanent look for you.  Your eyes were as red as ever, the lack of sleep taking its toll.

 

You emerge from the bathroom and look over at the guys slowly talking among themselves.  From the look on Gaz's face, it's a very serious conversation.

 

Price is the first one to notice you, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his chair.  “Shall we find a new game?”

 

“You go ahead.”  You walk over to Johnny's bed, placing the back of your hand on his forehead after noticing he was sweating.  You go back to the bathroom and come back to him with a damp washcloth, lightly patting it across his forehead.  Gently you place the back of your hand against his skin, surprised at how cool his skin felt.  You fold the cloth into a small strip and lay it across Johnny's forehead before leaning over and lightly kissing him on the cheek while running your fingers through his mohawk.

 

“Missing out on all the fun here, Bubbles.  Gaz is awake.  You should be, too.”  You close your eyes, gently resting your cheek against his head with a sigh.

 

---

 

“...fun here, Bubbles…  is awake.  You should…”

 

Oi lass, only one person can get away with callin’ me tha’, and tha's my Hen.

 

M…my… my hen…

 

Are you …

 

Everythin's confusing. .

 

There was a… flash.  A loud sound.

 

I'd only realized wha’ was happenin’ jus’ before it went off.

 

Got Gaz ou’ the way and covered jus’ in time.

 

Right before…

 

I… I think Ghost pulled me ou’ the rubble.  Me and Gaz.

 

After tha’, I dunno.

 

Dunno wha’ happened.

 

Dunno where I am.

 

Where we are.

 

Where Makarov is.

 

Makarov…

 

---

 

You check Johnny over once more, removing the cloth from his head and setting it aside.  You watch him a while, fighting yourself.  You want to just crawl into bed with him and lay there until he finally wakes up.  But you also need to get out of this room.  Find a place to clear your head before you end up having a meltdown.

 

You lean in close to him, whispering so only he can hear you.  “I'll be back, Bubbles.  I love you.”  You kiss his temple, then his cheek, adjusting the tubes back to where they belonged before you stepped away and headed to the door.

 

“You leaving me here with them?”  Gaz calls after you.  He sounded almost worried.

 

You turned and faced them, taking a few steps backward as you smiled.  “I think you'll do better with the two of them over little old me, Gazatron.”

 

“Wait for me, Dove.”  Simon pushes his chair away from the table.

 

“Stay here and let me know if Johnny wakes up.”  You turn and slide the door open, slipping through a tiny opening before shoving it closed and walking towards the exit and pushing open the doors.  Simon calls after you just as they shut, with you making your way to the elevator and pressing the call button.

 

On second thought, you keep moving past the elevator to the stairs.

 

You crash the door open and start heading up.  You don't know where you are going just yet.  Or care for that matter.  

 

You get to the next floor, going up halfway and sitting down on the steps, tears streaming down your face.  You use your shirt to try to wipe them away, only to have more take their place.  You sigh, placing your legs up on the step below, crossing your arms over your knees before resting your forehead against them.

 

“ Dove? ”

 

You lift your head at Simon's voice, but only just.  You control your breathing, trying your best to blend in the natural hum of the stairwell.

 

You hear the door close, and breathe out a sigh of relief.  You barely touch your forehead back against your arms before your phone starts going off.

 

Goddamnit…

 

“Dove?”  Simon calls again, much more gently than before.

 

“Go back to Kyle and Johnny.”

 

His heavy boots echo as he slowly makes the ascent towards you.  “Price is still with them.”

 

Rolling your eyes, you stand, going down the steps and stopping when you see Ghost.  “You need to be resting that ankle, not worrying about me.”

 

He climbs another step, his eyes still on you.  “Told Johnny I'd take care of ya.”

 

You place your hands over your face, rubbing hard, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets a little.  “I need a minute to myself before I blow a fucking gasket.  You of all people should understand that.”  You finally let your hands drop heavily to your sides, your vision blackened but slowly starts to come back to normal.

 

Ghost looks you over for a moment before holding his gloved hand out towards you.  You raise your brow at him, hesitating a little before your resolve eventually breaks.  Going down the stairs to meet him, you grab onto his outstretched hand.

 

Leading the way, he opens the stairwell door and holds it open for you.  You go through and try to take your hand back, but Ghost only tightens his grip.  He navigates the way back to the elevator and slaps the up button.  The doors open immediately, and he pulls you inside while pressing a button on the panel.

 

“Where we going?”

 

“When's the last time you ate something?”

 

“Ummm…”

 

“Mhm.  And you ride my arse when I don't take care of myself.”

 

“Because taking care of someone else is easy.  Second nature.  Trying to take care of myself is… an effort.”

 

Ghost grunts, giving your hand a squeeze.  “Pretty sure this is why Johnny made me promise to take care of you.”

 

“And devoid a promise?”

 

Ghost stays silent as you reach the hospital cafeteria.  He grabs a tray, with you following his lead.  He loads his up with food, as you grab a couple of items.  You were hungry, but knew you wouldn't eat much.

 

You grab Simon's wallet from his back pocket and pay, setting the wallet on his tray and finding a quiet corner to sit with him.  Not your first time doing this with him the last few days.  Surely wouldn't be the last.

 

You take the paper off the muffin you grabbed before you start picking away at it, every now and then shoving a tiny piece into your mouth.  It almost feels wrong, eating while Johnny is still out cold.  

 

“Still would.”

 

You lift your eyes to look at Simon, but look back down quickly.  He has his mask pushed up to eat, and as always you try to respect him by not ogling.  “‘Still would’ what?”

 

“Take care of you.  Promise or not.”

 

You shake your head slightly, nibbling away at another part of your muffin.  

 

If that were true, why would Johnny make you promise him?

 

“He didn't.  I made the promise without him asking.”

 

You glance up at him, frowning.  “Quit that.”

 

“Quit what?”  He looks at you, bringing a mug up to his face, yet you can still see the slight smirk on his face.

 

You look back down and abandon the muffin, going for the yogurt you had grabbed and stirring at it with your spoon.  “Your jedi mind trick.”

 

“No tricks here, Dove.”

 

You sigh, scratching at your jaw.  “Whatever it is… stay out of my head.  It's a scary place.”

 

“Not much scarier than mine.”

 

“You at least have a reason for it.”

 

“Your reasons are just as important.”

 

You stop playing with the yogurt, glancing up at him again.  “Thanks… for… looking after my ass.”

 

“Someone has to once in a while.”

 

Before you can answer, your phone starts going off.  You grab it out of your bra and look at it before answering.  “Hey John.”

 

“ Hey, love.  Could you make your way back to the room?  Doctor is here and needs you to sign off on a few things.  Bring Simon with you.”

 

“Yeah, sure.  See you soon.”  You end the call and eat a single spoonful of yogurt.  “Doctor needs me back in the room.  Price said to bring you with.”

 

Simon nods, pulling his mask back down over his face.  Taking your tray before you have a chance to, he brings them towards the garbage and clears them off.  You meet him at the door, and he grabs your hand again before leading the way to the elevator.

 

Inside, Ghost presses a button and you start heading up.  It isn't until the doors open that you realize you were at the roof access.  You frown up at him, but he silently leads you outside.

 

Releasing your hand, he walks off to address one of the soldiers on patrol, then makes his way back to you.  Lightly taking you by the bicep, he leads you away from the helicopter pad, and towards a quiet part of the roof.  Your eyes haven't left him since you got to the roof.

 

“Ghost?”

 

“Said you needed a moment to yourself.”

 

“But… Price… the doctor?”

 

“They can wait.”  He walks away from you, heading back to the roof access.  

 

You turn and look across the rooftops of all the nearby buildings, off towards the skyline, crossing your arms over yourself.  Silently thanking Simon for giving this to you.

Chapter 52: Tests

Notes:

It's been a while since I checked in with you guys.

How ya doooooin'?

Writing these last few chapters have been cathartic. Especially after having family in the hospital and sitting at their bedside for days. (THEY'RE FINE! JUST MAKING THAT CLEAR!)

 

Spoilers!

 

Seriously, spoilers.

 

Minor ones. But still.

 

Look away if you don't wanna know.

 

Also, don't read comments on the last chapter.

 

Alright, I warned you.

 

Johnny is waking up. Soon. I just haven't worked out how soon. But we ARE NOT losing our sweet boy. I didn't bring him back just to do him dirty. Promise!

 

“You sure you tied it tight enough?”

 

“If I didn't, then the nurses and half the ICU will get a great view of your cute hiney.”

 

“That's not funny, little miss… smart arse.”

 

Gaz was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, you sitting behind him and tieing the hospital gown so it stayed together, chuckling as you do.  Kyle was evaluated by doctors and a physical therapist, and he's been able to get up and walk around the last couple of days.  You have taken over getting him up and moving ever since, making yourself useful and taking the load off of the already busy nurses.

 

“Do I at least get some knickers?”

 

“Yes, I grabbed a pair of undies from your bag.”  You kneel down on the floor in front of him and help him slide his feet into each of the leg holes and shimmying them up as high as you can with him sitting.

 

“You don't have to do this, ya know.”  He watches as you help dress him, almost having a look of embarrassment on his face.

 

“Now what kind of sister would I be if I didn't help?”  You smile and give him a nudge.  “Besides, if we were back home, I'd be doing the exact same thing.”    You grab the walker left in the room by physical therapy and set it in front of Gaz, then buckle on a gait belt around him.

 

“Do I really need these things?  I'm not some bloody geezer like Price.”

 

“Better safe than sorry, Gazatron. Alright, grab onto the walker.  Aaaand up ya go!”

 

Despite him having stood up by himself a few times, you still keep hold of the gait belt in case he needed assistance.  You let go of him long enough to hoist his underwear up and over his hips, adjusting the gown once they are in place.  “There. Ass covered.  Time for a walkabout.”

 

You grab onto the gait belt again, just keeping it in hand and in place as Gaz starts to make his way to the door, going slow for now.  You look over at Johnny as you walk past his bed.  “You're missing out, Bubbles.  You could be strutting around here bare assed and giving the nurses a show.”

 

Gaz looks over at Soap, looking guilty now.  “Been almost a week now, bruv.”

 

You get Gaz to the door and slide it open, guiding him through and calling back to Johnny.  “We'll be back shortly, babes.  Don't you go anywhere without me.”

---

“...could be walking around here bare assed and giving the nurses a show.”

 

Bare wha’?

 

Nurses?  What nurses?

 

Ye’re no makin’ much sense.

 

Hen was my nurse.  Shared bed with me.  At the house.  Before…

 

Before… before wha’?

 

Somethin’ happened…  the house…

 

“Been almost a week now, bruv.”

 

A week?

 

A week for what?

 

Hen and the house…

 

“We'll be back shortly, babes.  Don't go anywhere without me.”

 

Oh steaming bloody Jesus.

 

How are ye here with me?

 

Ye were… supposed to stay at…

 

Oh m'girl…

---

 

“How much longer, d'ya think?”  Gaz asks when you step into the hallway.

 

“With what?”

 

“Until Soap wakes up.”

 

You bite your lip, shrugging your shoulders.  “Hard to say, bud.”

 

“Wish he'd never…”

 

“Can't think like that, Gaz.”

 

“But… but if he just…”

 

“Then neither of you would be here right now, bud.”

 

Gaz goes quiet, shuffling his feet and pushing the walker forward.

 

You direct him down a quiet hallway, finding an empty room and guiding him inside.

 

“Why are we in here, miss?”

 

You shut the door, helping him sit down in a chair that's been left in the room before you kneel down in front of him and smile.  “I'm giving you a moment.

 

Gaz frowns at you, slightly shaking his head.  “I… don't understand.”

 

You keep smiling, grabbing both of his hands into yours, bringing his knuckles up and lightly kissing the backs of his hands.  “You have been through so fucking much.  And you have been taking this like a trooper.  But you also haven't had a minute to yourself.  Truly by yourself.  To think.  To feel.  To do whatever it is you need to do.  So.  I am giving you that minute.”

 

His face softens when he realizes what you are saying.  He nods slowly, giving your hands a squeeze.

 

“I'll be right outside the door, and on the other side of the hall.  So I won't hear you unless you yell for me.  But, when you’re ready for me, let me know.”

 

Gaz nods at you again.  You stand, placing your hand on the back of his head and kissing him on the forehead.  You step out of the room, doing exactly as you said you would, taking your phone out to browse a little while you wait.

---

How?  How is she here in this god forsaken place?

 

Who brough’ her here?

 

Where ye taking her?

 

I swear if ye lay a finger on that pre'ty head of hers, I'll rip ye limb from fucking limb!

 

Wha’ happened at the house?

 

Why can’ I remember?

 

Hen… house… heh, hen house.

 

No.  Focus, Soap.

 

I… woke up.  From bein’ shot.

 

Shot.  In the head.  By Makarov.

 

And hen was…  she was… home.

 

But somethin’...

 

She was…

 

…Hen was… SHOT?!

 

Fuck, get me ou’ of here!

 

GET ME THE FUCK OU’ OF HERE!

 

WHERE IS SHE?

 

WHERE!

 

IS!

 

MY!

 

WIFE!

---

Gaz calls for you, so you go in the room to get him standing, making the trek back to the ICU.  As you get closer there's a lot of chatter and nurses rushing around.  You slow the pace with Gaz, thinking you can give everyone some time to do their job without either of you getting in the way.

 

It takes a minute for you to realize the room they are going in and out of is Gaz and Johnny's.

 

“No…”

 

You feel like you could drop to the floor any minute.

 

Suddenly, Ghost and Price are in front of you, Price grabbing a chair and helping Gaz sit down.  Ghost stands next to you, all of you watching everything unfold.

 

“What happened?”  You ask no one in particular.

 

“We dunno yet, Love.  We got here just before you did.”  Price stands with one arm resting across his chest, the other bent up with a finger resting under his chin, rubbing his beard like a worry stone.

 

You hesitate, but then find your opening between the nurses and run forward, trying not to bump into any of them or the doctor doing their job and get inside the room.

 

Alarms are going off, chattering amongst the nursing staff as they work on Johnny, taking vitals, taking blood samples, and doing everything they can to figure out what happened. Monitors show a fast pulse and blood pressure through the roof, his chest heaving as he breathes rapidly.

 

A nurse glances over at you.  “Mrs MacTavish, we're going to need you to step outside.”

 

“Fuck that, I'm not leaving him!”  Your voice cracks as a rush of emotions barreling through you.

 

“Johnny?”  Simon calls, coming up directly behind you now.  Looking back at him, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

 

Soap's pulse starts coming down within moments, still breathing heavy but not nearly as bad as a minute ago.  You and Ghost exchange a look before turning your attentions back to Johnny.

 

“We're alright, babes.  We're all ok, I promise.”  You try to sound reassuring, despite the quivering of your voice.  Simon's hands rest on your shoulders, squeezing them lightly.

 

A groan leaves Johnny's chest, head turning towards you and Ghost at a snail's pace, but his eyes remain closed.  Blood pressure has come down significantly.  

 

The doctor in the room comes towards you and Ghost, letting out a sigh before he speaks.  “Mrs MacTavish, I've ordered some imaging to be done on your husband.  It will help us determine if this was possibly a stroke, or seizure perhaps.”

 

You shake your head, your eyes having not left Johnny.  “No, I don't think it was either.”

 

The doctor tries to take a softer tone with you.  “Mrs MacTavish-”

 

“This isn't me just being in denial, doc!  As soon as we started talking, he started to calm down.  I don't think that is a coincidence!  Look, just do whatever tests you need to do with him, I'll sign off on it.  I'm just telling you what I saw here.”

 

The doctor nods and leaves the room, the nurses clearing out after a few minutes as well.  As soon as they're gone you rush over to Johnny, lightly running your hand over his mohawk with one hand and grabbing his hand with the other.

 

“I'm ok, hon.  We’re right here.  Simon, Kyle, John, everyone is ok.”  You look back at Simon, who is still standing where you left him.  You reach out your hand towards him, beckoning him to you.

 

Ghost eventually moves and walks up beside you.  You let go of Soap's hand, replacing it with Ghost's instead, but you placing yours on top of the hand pyramid.  You stand on your tippy toes, lightly kissing Johnny on the temple.

---

 

I swear with every fiber of my bein’, if ye touch a single hair on her head, I will tear you apart, LIMB BY FUCKIN’ LIMB!

 

YE HEAR ME?!

 

“Fuck that, I'm not leaving him!”

 

Hen?

 

“Johnny?”

 

Ghost!

 

Bleedin’ Jesus, where the fuck are we?

 

Why can’ I see ye?

 

“...We're all ok, I promise.”

 

Oh thank fuck.  Hells fuckin’ bells, lass.  Though’ I lost ye.  Shit.

 

Ye're ok?  Ye're really ok?

 

“...Look, just do whatever tests you need to do with him, I'll sign off on it...”

 

Tests?

 

Wha’ tests?

 

Why would ye have to sign off on…

 

Wha’...

 

…an explosion.

 

Gaz and me, we were…

 

Gaz.

 

“I'm ok, hon.  We’re right here.  Simon, Kyle, John, everyone is ok.”

 

Is he?  Is he really ok?

 

Don’ lie to me, m'girl.

 

No… ye wouldn' lie to me…

 

Gaz is ok.

 

I’m…  I'm not.  Somethin's wrong with me.

 

How bad is it?

 

How bad am I?

 

Fuck…

 

---

Many images of Johnny's head, and many vials of blood later, everything came back inconclusive.  You knew in your gut they would.  But the rest you didn't get the memo right away.  That fucking bowling ball feeling came back with a vengeance.  You disappeared into the bathroom a few times, hoping to stop the feeling.  You only succeeded in throwing up.

 

When you finally make your way out of the bathroom, hopefully for the last time in a while, Simon is standing next to the door.  Head down, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall.  You glance up at him, patting his arm as you walk by.  He grabs onto your wrist, tugging you towards the door and sliding it open, guiding you out of the room ahead of him.

 

“You ill?”  Simon gruffs out at you after sliding the door shut.

 

You look back up at him again and shake your head.  “No, I feel fine.”

 

“Dove.”

 

You frown.  “Nerves, stress, anxiety?  Take your pick, Simon.”

 

“Seems to be more to it than that.”

 

“You've just never seen how any of those things manifest with me, that's all.  I'm totally fine.”  

 

He tilts his head up and looks around before pulling you to a quieter section of the ward, making sure the two of you are still alone before speaking.  “Are you sure that's it?”

 

“Yes, I'm sure.  What's got into you?”

 

“There's nothing else you need to tell me?”

 

“You tell me, cause it sounds like you know something I don't, and you’re starting to freak me out a little.”

 

“I need to know so I can make a plan to keep the two of you safe.”

 

You let out a sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead in that ever so familiar spot where your headaches like to form.  “Keep us safe from what?  What's coming after me and Johnny?  Or do I ask who is coming after us , because why do you need to to keep us safe?”

 

“Not Johnny.  You two.”

 

You yell whisper at him now.  “Just fucking spit it out already, Ghost!”

 

Simon yell whispers back.

 

It takes a few seconds for your brain to try to process what the hell he just said.

 

And your brain fails you.  “...am I what ?”

 

“ Are.  You.  With.  Child?”

Notes:

Welp.

I honestly don't know where the last part came from. Brain decided we were going off the rails a little.

Sooo why not leave it as a little cliffhanger.

Cause, ya know, I tooootally know which way this is gonna go.

Yup.

Definitely.

...ok so I don't, SUE ME!

Chapter 53: Scans

“Are.  You.  With.  Child?”

 

“Are.  You.  Fucking.  Crazy?”

 

His eyes narrow as he stares down at you.  Ghost then glances up and looks around, straightening his posture.  You turn and look, finding a nurse standing a little too close for comfort.

 

Ghost grabs you by the hand and pulls you along with him, heading out of the ICU ward and to the elevator.  He smacks the up button, and once the elevator arrives he has you go in ahead of him, pressing the button to take you up towards the roof access.

 

After getting to the top, Ghost walks you out of the elevator.  Opening the roof access door he calls out to the soldiers that were patrolling.  “ALL of you, fuck off downstairs!  And stay there until you hear different from me.”

 

You avoid eye contact with the soldiers as they file past you and Ghost, not sure if you want to see if what they were possibly thinking was written all over their faces.  You assume there have been rumors swirling around about you and Ghost, and you weren’t about to face any of them at the moment.

 

Ghost lets go of your hand long enough to check the roof, making sure there weren’t any stragglers before he finally makes his way back to you.   “I need to know.  I'm asking because I'm trying to keep you safe here, Dove.”

 

You nod, crossing your arms over yourself while you look up at him.  “I know that, and I already told you what was wrong, Ghost.  Maybe there’s something wrong with you though.  I think we should definitely head downstairs and have your head looked at.”

 

Ghost lets out a sigh of frustration, moving closer to you.  “I'm being serious.”

 

“So am I, Ghost.  Concussions are very serious.”  You can’t stop the slight smile that forms on your face.

 

Jesus, how long ago did I have this conversation with Johnny?  When he asked me to move into his house…

 

“I’m not fucking conc-...”  He sighs, closing his eyes for a second and composing himself.  You almost wanna commend him for it.  “Thinking you might be.  That's a valid concern here, yeah?”

 

“ No , because again , I already told you what’s wrong with me.  Anxiety and stress, both have fucked with not just my head, but the entirety of my body.  It's a visceral reaction, and I can't control it.”

 

Ghost moves his hands up, placing them onto your shoulders and looking into your eyes.  “Johnny already told me.”

 

You tilt your head at him and frown.  “Told you what?”

 

“About… after you socked Graves.  You and him…”

 

Of course Johnny would tell Ghost.  Damnit…

 

You roll your eyes at him.  “So?  That doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“Dove, I’m ju-”

 

“Yeah, I know, and if I was , I'd be the first one to know about it.”

 

“Unless you didn’t know.”

 

“Pretty sure that’s one thing I’d definitely know before anyone.  Especially you, Batman.”

 

Ghost looks more frustrated now, and you can see him trying to control himself and push back any anger, and squeezing you a little more than he intended to.  “Sometimes you don’t know yourself, Dovey.”

 

“You do realize that you are the only one I could even tell right now, right?  If I was , I can't exactly go running to Johnny and tell him, cause he's still conked out and in a coma!”

 

That softens Ghost more than you expected.  He still won’t say anything to you, though.  Not just yet.  You step back for just a second, making his hands fall from your shoulders so you can grab them in each of your own and squeeze them gently.  When you speak you lower your voice.

 

“ If … and this a huge fucking if here, Ghost.  If I even had a thought I might be, I wouldn’t be able to get checked out at any clinic, or even go to medical if we were on base.  To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I could even tell Johnny unless I was a hundred percent sure about it.  You are the only person on the planet I could trust with that information.  Which, quite honestly, really sucks for you.”

 

Ghost tilts his head, trying to keep his voice low as well.  Not doing nearly as well, since his voice is deep to begin with.  “Why would that suck for me?”

 

“Well.  For starters.  You’d have to figure out how to get me a pregnancy test without alerting anyone.  I don't see you going to any pharmacy around here and picking any up.”

 

“Why couldn't you get it done here?  Find out right away, get all the tests?”

 

“Apparently you’ve forgotten I have a target on me.  Makarov, Graves, the fucking General, and who the fuck knows who else?  How much bigger would that get if anyone so much as thought I was or even might be?”

 

Ghost shifts his weight, contemplating everything you just told him.  “Why would you tell me before Johnny?”

 

“So when I did tell him, you can hold him down before he starts running around, screaming at the top of his lungs that he’s gonna be a ‘da’.”

 

That gets a laugh out of Ghost.  “He would do that, wouldn’t he?”

 

You sigh, reaching up and rubbing at your face.  “There's also this thought swirling in my head.  Another reason I wouldn't want it to be charted somewhere.  I dunno where we are, or if we're in Makarov's territory or not.  No, don’t tell me.  But If we are, and the wrong person finds out?  I'd definitely be fucked.”

 

He gives you a solemn nod.  “Aye.  That you would be.”

 

You can't help but smile up at him after giving you an ‘aye’.

 

“Don't.  Don't go there, Dovey.  I actually like you a little bit.  Don't push it.”

 

You raise your hands in a surrendering pose, taking a step back from him.  You sigh, the smile slowly fading from your face as you walk up to the railing surrounding the edge of the roof and lean against it.   

 

Ghost comes up beside you to lean with you, and you look down at your left hand, looking at the ring on your finger.  You play with it a little, sliding it over your fingers.  It's still in very good condition, despite it being made from silicone.  “I just… I really fucking miss him, Simon.  He’s right here.  But… he’s not here .  I just want to hear his voice, and his laugh, and his stupid little jokes that make you roll your eyes so hard that you can see the back of your skull.

 

Simon reaches up, placing a hand on your back.  “He’ll be back annoying the fuck out of us soon enough.”

 

You nod, still playing with your fingers and your ring.  “It's a good thing that I'm not...  For the best, actually.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Sure as shit wouldn't want to have a baby on base.”

 

“Might not be so bad.  Bunch of aunties and uncles to dote on the bugger.  I'll have that kid trained to shoot a gun by the time it's two.”

 

You turn your head and look over at Ghost.  “Yeah, definitely a reason not to have a baby on base.”

 

“Doesn't have to be on base to get ‘em trained.  Name another reason, then.”

 

“Well.  Already gave you the Makarov reasoning.  Pretty huge reason right there.  Ah fuck, I don't even wanna think about the bullshit that Graves would pull.  Him and the goddamn General.  Besides, where would we put it?  Johnny's room on base isn't what you'd call ‘spacious’.”

 

“Knock down the wall between your room and his.  Build a nursery right there.”

 

You scoff, shaking your head and turning your gaze elsewhere.  “Not having a baby while I'm still on base, Simon.  That’s just… asking for trouble or something.”

 

“Do you want them?”

 

“Jesus, really playing twenty thousand questions with me today, aren’t you Si?”

 

Ghost shrugs.  “Thought it was a good one to ask.”

 

“Nope, terrible question.  You definitely failed that one.”

 

Ghost nudges against you, making you look back up at him.  “Do you?”

 

You sigh, looking out over the rooftops.  “Someday?  Under the right conditions?  Like not having the fucking leader of a terrorist entity coming after me?  Or maybe not being on a military base?  Maybe after we get moved into a house again, out in the middle of nowhere, only accessible by boat?  And after all of you have finally retired from running all over the planet, dodging bullets and bombs and bullshit?  But, ya know, since someone is still catching up on their beauty sleep, none of this matters anyway!”  You let out an exasperated breath, dropping your head and closing your eyes.

 

You feel Ghost's hand on your shoulder, giving a slight squeeze.  “He's gonna wake up, Dove.”

 

You nod, taking in a slow breath, then letting it out slowly before lifting your head.  “I know.  He seems to be trying, so…”

 

The roof access door swings open, making both of you turn and look to see Price coming through.  He stops when he sees you two, nodding before shutting the door.  “Wondered where you lot went to.”

 

You turn and press your back against the railing, crossing your arms over yourself.  “Just talking.  Everything ok downstairs?”

 

Price nods, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.  “Gaz is fine.  Soap's still stable.”

 

You let out a hmm while nodding your head, turning back around and resting your arms on the railing.  Price comes up to your free side, leaning onto the railing with you.  He tries not to blow smoke into your face, but the wind isn't helping all that much.  You tilt and look up at Simon, who looks most displeased. 

 

“What are you two birds squawking about up here?”  Price asks, looking out over the rooftops as well.

 

“Ghost needs his head examined.”  You pipe up, putting on a smile as Ghost glares at you now.

 

“And why does my Lieutenant need that?”  Price asks, smoking away at his cigar.

 

“She thinks I got a head injury.”

 

“Holding my hand?  Giving me a hug ?  That's not like you, bub.”

 

Price blows out a plume of smoke as he laughs, then almost immediately starts to cough.  You pat Price on the back a few times.  “Stay with us, old man.  Have enough in the hospital as it is, let's not find a reason for you to be in as a patient.”

 

Ghost takes the remainder of the cigar and tosses it over the railing and off the roof of the hospital.

 

“Uhhh…  not sure that was the right call there, Batman.”

 

“Fuck it.  If it lands on someone, they shouldn't have been standing there in the first place.”

 

“That was one of my best cigars, Simon.  I expect some replacements.  Been losing too many of the bloody things as of late.”

 

You shake your head, slugging Ghost in the shoulder.  “Maybe you have a tumor festering away in there.  Think that'd warrant early retirement?”

 

That brings a scoff out of Price.  “You kidding?  He’d be back out there as soon as he woke up from the anesthetic.”

 

You roll your eyes.  “Wouldn’t kill any of you boys to retire, ya know.  In fact, it would drastically extend your lifespan.”

 

“Retirement doesn’t make everything go away, Love.  They call on us because we are good at what we do.”  Price looks over at you, trying to smile at you behind his mustache.  Only the expression doesn’t even get close to his eyes.

 

“Military needs to get their shit together and start calling on someone else.  Graves wants to prove he’s such a fucking hotshot, send his ass out there then.  Let someone shoot at him for a change.”

 

A grunt from both Simon and Price.  The three of you stay quiet for some time, just staring out over the rooftops and off towards the horizon.  At this point you don’t really know what day it is.  You can barely remember how long you have all been here.  Part of you can’t wait to get back home.  To base.  With Johnny.

 

After all of you have stood there for some time, you let out a sigh.  Pushing yourself away from the railing and standing up straight, stretching out your back before shoving your hands into the pocket if your hoodie.  “Suppose we should go check on Gaz?”

 

“Maybe next time we can bring him up here with us.  Would do that boy some good to get some fresh air.”  Price stands up himself, coming to you and offering you his arm.  You take it, walking in step with him and going towards the roof access and into the elevator, Simon not too far behind.

 

When the elevator doors open, you step out with Price, who hands you off to Simon with a pat to the top of your head.  “I’ll go tell them to get back to their post.  You go ahead.”  Price turns and walks away, with Ghost taking the lead and walking you off towards Gaz and Soap’s room.

 

Ghost slides the door open, letting you go inside first.  Your eyes immediately fall to Johnny first, who hasn’t moved at all since you last saw him.  Shifting to Gaz, he seems to be taking a nap for the time being.  You try to keep as quiet as you can.

 

You walk over to Soap slowly, carefully taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, standing on your tippy toes to plant a kiss onto Johnny’s temple before resting your head next to his, closing your eyes and whispering, “Hey, Sweetheart.”

---

 “Hey, Sweetheart.”

 

Mmmph…

 

Where…

 

What happened…?

 

Heard ye're sweet voice.

 

My girl.

 

My sweet darlin’ girl.

 

Wha’s wrong with me?

 

Need to get back to ye.

 

Need to…

 

Take care of ye.

 

Keep ye safe.

 

Fuckin’ hell.

 

I can do this.

 

I can fuckin’ do this.

 

Wake up, Soap.

 

Come on.

 

Wake the fuck up !

 

---

 

A groan from Johnny makes you open your eyes and lift your head to look at him, shushing him quietly as your hand moves to his mohawk, your fingers running through it.  “It's ok.  Everything is ok, honey.  I promise.”  

 

You tilt onto your toes again and kiss at his cheek, closing your eyes and resting your head against Johnny's.  Squeezing and running your thumb over his hand as you still hold it.  The events from earlier running through your head, not wanting to have another episode of whatever it was.

 

A twitch of the hand you are holding makes you open your eyes, looking down at it before lifting your head to look at him, gasping when you see his face.

 

He's looking at you.

 

Johnny.

 

Is LOOKING at you!

 

“Simon!”

 

Johnny's free hand starts making it's slow ascent towards his face, which you quickly recognize what is happening.  You let go of him to carefully take off the oxygen mask, Simon standing at the other side of Johnny's bed now.

 

“The fuck you yellin’ at Simon for?”  A groggy Gaz calls out from his bed, carefully pushing himself up into a sitting position.

 

Johnny closes his eyes, concentrating on his breathing.  You press the mask to his face, holding it in place instead of fully putting it back on.

 

When he opens his eyes again, you try to smile down at him as your eyes quickly fill with tears.  You pull the mask away when he starts making a noise, trying to speak.  When he does it's low and gravelly, but by the Gods is it the most beautiful thing you've heard in a long time.

“Hi, Princess.”

Notes:

No little MacTavish babies running for the time being.

But it's ok because AHHHHHH OUR BOY IS AWAKE!

Chapter 54: Awake

“Hey, Princess.”

 

Both you and Simon are too stunned to speak at first, staring at Johnny, trying to figure out if this is real.  Slowly, Johnny brings the hand that you are still holding up to his face, lightly planting a kiss over your knuckles before moving it to rest against his cheek.  “Fuckin’ hell, ye're a sight.”

 

“So are you, Bubbles.”  You don't even try to stop the tears rolling down your face.  

 

Johnny closes his eyes, a little smiling forming at the corner of his mouth.  “Never though’ I'd miss bein’ called tha’.”

 

You look over at Ghost, who nods at you and goes to the door, calling for a nurse.  You bring Johnny's hand up and kiss the back of it, only letting go when the nurse comes in.  You move away from Johnny's side, standing at the foot of his bed for now. 

 

You notice Gaz trying to sit up more, so you quickly move to help him shift the bed into a sitting position.  “He's ok, bud.  He's alright, see?”

 

Gaz nods, all eyes on Johnny now.  Price even pushes his way into the room, followed by the doctor.  “I'm gonna need the room cleared so I can have a look at my patient.”

 

“We won't be going anywhere.”  Ghost growls at the doctor.

 

“It's ok, Si.  They need space to check Johnny over.  Let's step outside and give them what they need, yeah?”  You try to reason.

 

Ghost clenches his fists tight, glaring at you before stalking out of the room, almost ripping the door off the tracks as he made his way into the hallway.

 

“Take me with you.”  Gaz grabs your arm to get your attention.  You break down the side railing on his bed, grabbing the wheelchair and positioning it to move Gaz into.  “Quick in and out this way, bud.”

 

Gaz nods and lets you help him into it, letting him get settled before you start wheeling him out.  You stop at the end of Johnny's bed, and see that his eyes are on you.  You half wonder if they've been on you the whole time.  “Johnny baby, I'll be right outside the room with the boys, ok?”

 

“You can stay in, Miss.”  The doctor says as he's going over some charts.

 

“And I just said that I'll be outside and waiting with the rest of our family.”  You look at Johnny once more, blowing him a tiny kiss before wheeling Gaz out to look for the others.

 

---

You, Ghost, Price, and Gaz have been waiting for quite some time outside of the ICU doors, not wanting to be in the way but also not wanting to get too far away.

 

“Shoulda stayed in there, Dove.  Could be sending up updates on what they have to say about him.”  Ghost grunts out.  Still pissed off about being kicked out, of course.

 

“I'd argue that Gaz should still be in there.  Ya know, on account of being a patient and an occupant of the room?”  You were standing next to Ghost, with Gaz in the wheelchair on the other side of you.

 

“You're the wife, Miss.”  Gaz smiles up at you and winks.

 

“You do have more of a claim on Soap than we do, Love.”  Price crosses his ankles over one another, trying to find a more comfortable position as he leans against the wall.

 

You let out a ‘pfft’ with a shake your head.  “Barely.  You boys have known him longer.  Bled together, dodged bullets together, been shot together, and just in general babe gone through hell and back together.  Brothers in arms, brothers in combat, brothers in… whatever you wanna call it.  I'm just the cheerleader on the sidelines for all of you.”

 

“Lest you forget Dovey, you’ve gone through all of that and then some ‘cause of us, and a few other things with Johnny.  Makes you our sister in that respect.”  Ghost nudges you as he tries to convince you.

 

“A sister to us regardless, Love.  Always took damn good care of us, even before the...  Well.  You've taken good care of us.”  Price  looks over at you.  

 

“I wish I was taking care of you boys.  I can't wait to get off base again.  It's been so damn long since I've done anything useful.  I wonder if my cooking skills have fallen off by now.”

 

“Man, I fuckin’ miss your cooking.  Been way too long since I've stuffed myself so full I can hardly fit in my trousers after.”  Gaz leans back in the wheelchair, putting a hand on his stomach like he was trying to remember that feeling.

 

“Someday, Kyle.  Someday.”  You pat Gaz on the shoulder and give it a squeeze.

 

You almost jump from the sound of Ghost's phone ringing.  Mostly because you weren't expecting it.  But also because that thing almost never rings anyway.  Simon looks almost as confused as you do.  He walks away from the group while pulling out his phone, grumbling into it when he answers.  

 

You turn your head and look questioningly at Price, who can only respond with a shrug.  

 

The door to the ICU opens, all of you turning your heads at the noise.  Price pushes himself away from the wall to stand more at attention.

 

The doctor glances around quickly, almost visibly relaxing when he realizes Ghost isn't around.  He clears his throat before addressing you.  “Mrs MacTavish, the initial prognosis so far looks promising.  There doesn't seem to be any lingering side effects, but keep in mind it's still quite early.  I'll be having some tests run over the next few days, but for now he's awake and alert.”

 

You nod, taking it all in for a moment before quietly thanking them.  Ghost makes his way towards you, so the doctor retreats hastily.  “Captain, we're needed on the roof.  Urgently.”

 

Price furrows his brow as he looks at Ghost, but nods and pats you on the shoulder before following Ghost to the elevators.

 

“That doesn't sound good.”  Gaz turns in his chair and looks up at you, as your brow furrows in worry.

 

“Guess we'll have to find out about it later.”  You get behind Gaz and wheel him back through the still opened door, and off to his room.  Sliding the door open, you push Gaz through and shut it behind you.  The curtain is pulled shut around Johnny's bed.

 

“Tha’ you , hen?”  Johnny is much easier to understand, obviously not wearing the oxygen mask now.  Voice still sounds scratchy and gravelly.

 

Gaz waves you off and presses a finger to his lips to keep you quiet.  He wheels himself forward and opens the curtain a little to look in on Soap.  “No, it's Father Christmas.”

 

Soap tries to laugh, but he starts coughing a few chuckles in.  Gaz wheels himself forward through the curtain.  “All that beauty sleep and you still look like shit.”

 

“Bile yer heid, Garrick.”  Soap gives a small chuckle this time.  “Where's everyone?  They abandon us cripples?”

 

“Ghost and the Captain had something to tend to on the roof.”

 

“Where's m’girl?”

 

You move forward and pull the curtain open more, revealing yourself to Johnny.  “Right here, handsome.”

 

Johnny's eyes find you instantly, his quickening heartbeat showing on the monitors.  Someone switched out the oxygen mask for a nose cannula.  You smile at him, walking towards the end of the bed and grasping onto the railing.  “How do ya feel?”

 

“Like a tunnel collapsed on me.”  Johnny winces as tries to sit up further in bed.  You move to his side, pressing the button to make the head of the bed rise.  His head drops back and he lets out a sigh, feeling better already.  You fluff some of Johnny's pillows, taking note that some tubes have now been removed with his awakening.

 

Johnny places a hand on yours, so you tilt your head and look at his face.  He looks exhausted as it is, but he still, somehow, manages to flash you that fucking grin .  You almost burst into tears at the sight of it.  “Fuckin’ hell, ye're a sight.”

 

“Repeatin’ yourself there, bruv.”  Gaz looks a little worried, you nodding at him to acknowledge his feelings.  You give Johnny a good look over now that he's awake.  You weren't expecting anything to really change, but you can't help yourself.  You've been in a caregiver mindset from the second Gaz woke up.  It's only going to become a bigger role with Soap awake now.

 

You reach up and tuck the cannula behind ear, with Johnny tilting his face just enough to rest against your hand, closing his eyes.  “Bears repeatin’.  Wouldn' wan’ m'girl to forget it.”  

 

He tilts to kiss your wrist before resting his head against your hand again and sighing.  “Didn’ think I'd get to do this again.”

 

“They had you drugged pretty good for a while there, Bubbles.  They weren't sure how much damage had been done.”  You lightly caress Johnny's cheek as he keeps leaning into it.

 

“Tried to tell them you were damaged before the blast, and that big head of yours has kept you alive this long.”  Gaz smirks.

 

Johnny opens his eyes to look at Gaz.  “I'll remember tha’ the next time ye need me to save ye're ass, Garrick.”

 

Next time… just woke up and already thinking about ‘next time’...  

 

You close your eyes, biting on your lower lip and trying not to say anything.  Your stomach is already doing somersaults at the thought of it.  When you finally open your eyes, Johnny is frowning at you.  “Ye alrigh’?”

 

You nod quickly.  “Should be me asking you that question, Bubbles.  Not the other way around.”  You try to smile at him.

 

“Wha's wrong, swee'girl?”  Johnny looks more concerned, so you force a laugh and plaster a smile onto your face.  “Nothing, couldn't be better, babes.  I'm just… I can't believe you're awake right now, it's like a dream.”

 

“Fel’ like I was dreamin’.  I couldn' see anythin’.  But I kept on hearin’ ye.  S'wha’ woke me up.”  Johnny's face relaxes, his head relaxing into his pillow more as his eyes close.  “‘Cept righ’ now, I'm plum knackered.”

 

“Of course you are, brain is still trying to keep up.”  You shift Johnny's pillows for him, getting him settled in and lightly kissing his forehead.

 

“He's been tryin’ to keep up for years now, and he still lags behind.  It's why we weren't anywhere near Price and Ghost when the thing went off.”  Gaz wheels himself away from the bed to give you room to move around to his side to adjust Johnny.

 

“Gonna get ou’ of this bed jus’ to kick ye in the head, Gaz.”

 

“Have to catch me first, slowpoke.”

 

You roll your eyes at both of them.  “Am I gonna have to separate the two of you?”

 

“Ye should send Gaz away, hen.  Then we'd have the room to ourselves.”  Johnny slits his eyes open to look at you, grinning again.

 

“I can’t send Gaz anywhere, this is his room too.”  You smile and push the curtains around his bed all the way open before you go behind Gaz and help him over to his bed.

 

“Tha’ can change, hen.”  Johnny’s voice gets a little quieter as you get Gaz back into his bed for the time being.  

 

“Uh huh, sounds like its nap time for the both of you.”  You get Gaz settled, fluffing his pillows for him and making sure he is comfortable.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”  Gaz bites back a laugh.

 

“That’s it.  Spar rematch the minute you are well enough for it.”  You bap Gaz with one of his pillows and giggle.  

 

You move back over to Johnny giving him another once over before kissing his cheek.  Before you can pull away he grabs your hand, slowly opening his eyes and struggling to keep them open as he looks over at you.

 

“Stay?”

 

The way he asks almost bring you into a sobbing mess of tears.  Assessing every wire and tube still attached, you decide that you can pull him off to one side of the bed, going around to the other and putting down the railing.  Kicking off your shoes, you climb up into the hospital bed with him.

 

Johnny's eyes widen a little more as you climb up, getting yourself set up beside him.  Johnny moves as much as he can so his head can comfortably lay on your chest  wrapping both arms around you as much as he possibly can to keep you help close to him.  You lightly comb through his mohawk using your fingers, listening to his breathing and watching his monitors.  Slowly, Johnny falls asleep against you.

 

You look over at Gaz, who you assume has been watching you the whole time.  You offer him a smile.  “Want me to call one of the nurses in here and see if they'll give you a snuggle?”

 

That gets a chuckle out of Gaz, who only shakes his head.

 

“Suit yourself, but if Ghost comes back and gets jealous, he might be the one crawling into your bed.”

 

“He'd kick you out of Soap's bed before he thought about coming over here.”

 

That gets both of you to laugh out.  Somehow, Johnny stays asleep against you the whole time.

Chapter 55: New Friends

Notes:

Published:2023-10-08

Somehow, I've almost been doing this for a year.

Didn't think too much of it when I started, but man has it been awesome.

At some point, it will come to an end.

But that point isn't anytime soon!

Anyways, enjoy.

 

 

 

 

The door to the room sliding open startles you awake, with you quickly turning to look over your shoulder just in time to see Simon standing in the doorway.  You let out a breath with a groan, rubbing at your eyes and face.  Johnny’s arms tighten around you as he starts to wake up himself.  You don't remember passing out at all, and wonder how long you were asleep.

 

Simon sidles up to the end of the bed, gripping onto the railing tightly and watching the pair of you.  You sit up and adjust yourself to get in a better position, trying not to jostle Soap too much.  “Just woke up and already needing a nap there, Johnny?”

 

Johnny chuckles as you climb out of bed and help him get adjusted.  “Hard work to crawl out from a coma.”

 

Ghost grunts and nods.  “How d’ya feel?”

 

“Like I got blasted to hell and back.”

 

“Not too far off there.  Got lucky.  You and Gaz both.”  Ghost grips onto the end of the bed tighter.  You half think about telling him to let go before he rips the railing clean off.

 

“Wha’ the hell happened ou’ there, L.T.?”  Soap asks, worry evident in his voice as he speaks.

 

“Wouldn't mind the finer details myself.”  Gaz calls out from his bed.  You lean around Johnny to get a better look at him, not having realized that he was awake as well.

 

You sit up more and position yourself to slip out of bed.  “Hang on, let me fuck off out of here first before you get into any of it.”

 

Soap wraps his arm around your stomach and pulls you back against him.  Despite being out for as long as he was, he doesn't seem to have lost much strength.

 

You tilt your head to look back at him.  “Kinda hard to leave when you have your arm around me, Bubbles.”

 

Johnny sighs, pulling you even closer and kissing your cheek.  “Don’ wan’ ye to go nowhere.  I need my emotional suppor’ hen for this.”

 

Oh honey…

 

“As much as I'd rather not leave you, I can't know what Ghost is about to tell you… not even if I wanted to.”

 

“Afraid she's right, Johnny.  Confidentiality and such.”  Ghost's eyes flick to you, then back to Soap.  

 

You move a hand up and scratch at his slightly overgrown facial hair.  You had been shaving him, but it's been a day or two since the last time you took the electric razor to his face.  “I'll be back soon.”

 

Johnny pulls you towards himself again, resting his head to yours for a moment.  “Hold ye to tha’, lass.”

 

You smile at Johnny, sliding out of bed and putting your shoes back on.  As you slip the second one on, the door slides open and Price enters the room, hands full with coffee cups.  You quickly grab two off of him and set them on the side table, with him setting the rest next to it.

 

“Thanks, Love.”

 

“You could’ve called, I would've helped you, ya know.”

 

“You were having some time with Soap.  Wasn't gonna spoil that.”

 

“You didn't spoil anything.  Simon, though…”  You look over at Ghost and grin.

 

“You best watch yourself, Dove.”

 

“Watching myself, commencing.  You boys don't have too much fun without me.”  You give them a smart ass salute before heading to the door.

 

“Take Sanders with you, Love!”  Price shouts at you as you open the door.  You look back and sigh.  You'd argue, but you know there isn't any point to it.

 

Stepping out of the room and shutting the door, you look up at the Private guarding the door.  “Sounds like you're with me, Private.”

 

“Yes, ma'am, good to see you again.”  Sanders nods at you.  You half wonder if he's figured out the Runt ruse.  By the way he looks at you and is acting, you don't think he has.

 

“Likewise.  Didn't even know they'd had you sent here.”  You head to the elevator and push the button.

 

“I was shipped out with the 141.  Sent here after your husband was injured.  Did uh… did you ever hear of anyone called Runt?”

 

The elevator dings and you step inside with Sanders, pressing another button and letting the doors shut.  “I haven't.  Maybe you should fill me in.”

---

First order of business was a shower.  You took longer than your usual, water almost too hot for you to handle and aimed at your lower back to calm the aching muscles.

 

When you finally get out, you do a half-assed after shower routine, toss on some clothes and wrap your hair in a towel before sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, closing your eyes and taking some grounding breaths.

 

For most of the time since you have been here, you haven't had much time to yourself.  Ghost or Price were usually with you, or someone was standing outside Soap and Gaz's room guarding all of you.  Simon usually sat in this room while you showered.  Keeping his promise, he told you.

 

But now, you are left alone.  Just you and your thoughts.

 

Johnny was alive.

 

Johnny was awake.

 

Johnny was… 

 

You lean forward, placing your elbows on your thighs, your hands against your face, holding yourself like this for a while.

 

How the fuck did I get to this point?

 

Never should have…  Well.  Way too late to have regrets about much of anything anymore.

 

I just wanna go home…  No, I want a home to go back to.  I need a home.  

 

I can't fucking live on base for the rest of my life.  The boys think I should, apparently.  Can't fucking do it.

 

I need a real bed.  A real room.  A real shower.  Maybe a critter or six.  I need to go back to how life was before all of this happened.

 

Fuck, my emotions are all over the place right now.  I could cry.  I could scream.  I could also jump for joy and laugh.  Maybe I could get Simon to take me to the roof so I can scream my lungs out…

 

Johnny's awake.  He's going to be ok.

 

But what if… “NO.”

 

No.  We are not going to walk that dark road of ‘what if’.  Johnny is good, Gaz is good, both our buys are doing great.  Gaz could be discharged in a week tops.  Johnny…

 

You groan and lay back on the bed, legs hanging off while staring up at the ceiling.   

 

Next time.  He actually fucking said ‘next time’ !  How?  How could he just…?  No.  No, there can't be a fucking ‘next time’!

 

They all need to retire.  While they still have enough time left to fucking enjoy retirement.  Cause if they go out there again, I may lose them forever.  Seriously, send Graves after Makarov.  Let him have his moment in the spotlight.  Let him get shot at or fucking bombed out.  Cocksucker would love every goddamn minute of it.

 

Selfish.  I'm being very fucking selfish.  I only care about me losing them, and not the world losing out on them.  I can't fucking lose them.  Not after all we've been through.

 

Simon…  what in the hell was he thinking?

 

Me.  Pregnant?  Jesus.

 

I'd know if I was.  I'd have plenty of signs.  The sickness, that's all just my body not handling the massive fucking amount of stress and anxiety.  Not sleeping much hasn't done me any good.  I haven't exactly gained weight at all, either.  Though me not eating much may have something to do with that.  Not exactly going to starve to death.

 

Be just our fucking luck though, wouldn't it… First time we… and I end up…

 

Ghost was pretty fucking quick finding the bright side of it though, wasnt he.  Tearing down walls and everything.

 

Lucky for all of us, that won't be happening.

 

Wonder what the ‘urgent’ thing was on the roof.  Not that it matters, really.  Another thing on the ever growing list of ‘shit that I don't wanna know’ I guess.  

 

‘Emotional support hen’.  Really know how to tug on my heartstrings.

 

Eventually you make yourself sit up, tugging the towel off your head and draping it over the bed railing.  Dragging your bag over towards the bed, you find what you need to fix your hair.  You are about to start when there's a knock on the door.

 

With a sigh you slip off the bed, making your way to the door.  “Yeah?”

 

“ I have orders from Lieutenant Riley to get you something to eat .”

 

Course you do…

 

“Thank you, but I'm not hungry.”

 

“ It… didn't sound like you had a choice, ma'am .”

 

Course it didn't…

 

“Fine.  Five minutes.”

 

---

 

You didn't want to.

 

The mere thought of food was enough to make your stomach flip.

 

The smell of it only made matters worse.  You almost had to run to the bathroom the minute the doors opened on the floor with the cafeteria.

 

You managed to force down something that halfway sounded good.  But only just.  You shoved whatever you had left on your tray to Sanders and told him to tuck in.  Orders were to get you ‘something’.  And you did what you could.

 

Eventually you had to get out of there and head back to the ICU.  Despite the 141 debriefing amongst themselves, you wanted to get back to Johnny.  You needed to.  You hated being apart from him.

 

You get back to the ICU, stopping yourself from opening the door.  Pulling out your phone, you text Ghost.

 

---

 

You:  Are you done talking about me so I can come in?

 

👻:  Who said we were talking about you?

 

You:  I figure.

 

👻:  Not talking about you.  Go find something more than a muffin.

 

You:  Found plenty, didn't want any of it.

 

---

 

The main door to the ICU opens, Ghost looking down at you at first, then up to Private Sanders.  “Move out, back in rotation.”

 

Sanders barks an affirmative and walks off out of the ward.  Simon looks down at you again.  “Wasn't quite ready for you.  Some friends stopped by.”

 

“I suppose with him awake, there will be lots of those coming and going.”

 

“Might.  These ones were picking up our slack, since half of us are out of commission.”

 

You nod a little, leaning against the wall.  “They aren't like… ‘friends’ like Graves was supposed to be, are they?”

 

Ghost chuckles.  “Graves is their enemy as well.”

 

“ I like them already.”

 

“They'd like to meet ya.”

 

“Why the hell would they wanna do that?”

 

“So they can see the one that tamed Johnny.”

 

You dramatically roll your eyes at Ghost.  “Altered state of mind on account of a bullet taken to the skull.  I didn't have any part in that.”

 

“Happened way before then, Dove.”

 

“True.  He's taken blows to the head before, probably has had a concussion or six before the bullet.”

 

Ghost sighs at you.  “Take the credit.  You've done a lot of good for our boy.”

 

You stay quiet for now.  Ghost takes you by the hand, bringing you through the ICU doors and to the boys’ room, opening the door and leading the way inside.  Everyone is now looking over towards you and Ghost, who gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.  You squeeze his back.

 

Johnny's face brightens as he grins ear to ear at the sight of you.  “Told ye she was a beaut.”

 

“I see someone is still delirious from all the head trauma.”  You half smile as you let go of Ghost and head to Johnny's bedside.  

 

“Also told ye she was modest.”  Johnny laughs and grabs your hand, pulling you in closer towards him.  “Al.  Rudy.  I’d like ye to meet my wife.”

Chapter 56: Overstayed

Summary:

Today is the official ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of this fic.

This last year has been bonkers. Crazy fucking hard. My main source of peace has been writing this story. Without it, I dunno where I'd be. And I don't care to know.

Thanks for sticking around and putting up with me for this long. Wouldn't have done it without you!

Seriously, your love for this band of misfits is so heartwarming. I'm usually kicking my legs, screaming, crying, shaking right along with you guys. Going back and reading what they've gone through numerous times because SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED GAAAAAAAH!

I don't know where we're headed or how we'll get there, since I'm making it all up as we go. But I plan on keeping it going at least a while longer.

Again, from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!

Al and Rudy were alright so far. Not that you've been around them much since the introduction. From conversation, you gathered they were special forces. You learned Al was Alejandro, and was the leader. Rudy , or Rodolfo, was second in command.  

 

“Was surprised when Soap told us he was married. I like to keep family separate from all the chaos.” Alejandro smiles at you, arms crossed over his chest. Not in an intimidating way, but a normal stance.

 

You shrug a little. “I was separate for a long time. Up until I… wasn't…”

 

“Apologies, hermana. It was not meant to upset you.” Alejandro does look a bit saddened now.

 

So you slap on your best smile and laugh. “Not upset at all. Just a part of being involved with the Task Force. Despite all that, wouldn't trade it for anything at this point.”

 

“Surely you miss civilian life, no?” Rodolfo asks, having been mostly quiet during the conversation.

 

“I do. Terribly. But, until Makarov is taken care of, things will be as they are. Which really sucks, but oh well. And I don't wanna go back to it without these guys, so I bide my time.” You look amongst Task Force 141 who are scattered throughout the room.

 

“Wouldn’ le’ ye even if ye wanted, lass. Ye're basically stuck with me now.” Johnny leans over and kisses you on the forehead, making a genuine smile creep across your face as you close your eyes once his lips touch your skin, then open them to see those lovely blue eyes damn near sparkle when he smiles.

 

“Luckily for you, Johnny.”

 

“Thought only Ghost could call you ‘Johnny’.” Alejandro smirks while looking at Soap.

 

“Ghost use to be the only one. Then she came along, and now only these two can pull it off.”

 

“Highest of honors right there, hermana!” Alejandro laughs and the rest of you join in.

 

“Nah hermano, highest honor is me gettin’ to call’ her my wife.” Johnny moves his hand down your side before hooking it around and resting it on your stomach. You place your hand on top of his, lacing your fingers in between his and sliding them both to your thigh.

 

Alejandro nods while tilting his head, silently agreeing with Soap. “So! How long til you can get out of here and join us back in the field? Could really use the 141 at our side.

 

“Not soon enough, Al. Would love to be ou’ there figh'in’ along side you and Rudy again.”

 

Please don't throw up, please don't throw up, for the love of anything, don't you dare betray me you stupid stomach!

 

You carefully push Soap’s arm off of you and slide down off the bed, picking up your shoes and walking towards the door. “Hen?”

 

“I'll be right back, boys” You don't even look back as you open and shut the door behind you, walking quickly away from the room, only stopping outside the ICU doors to put your shoes back on before walking again.  

 

Can't fucking believe him! Go back… Go back?! How? How the fuck do you run back into that? I don't get it. I don't want to get it. Guess that's the difference between us. He'll get hurt, brush himself off, and run right back into it. And I'm a fucking coward.  

 

You wandered aimlessly for a while, and by the time you returned, Alejandro and Rodolfo were gone. Price asked that next time you take someone with you. Ghost had his eyes on you almost the rest of the night. He didn't say anything. Just kept watch.

 

 

---

 

 

It’s barely been three days since Johnny woke up. Minor setbacks here and there. Headaches that seemingly come out of nowhere. More or less aftershocks from the explosion, they think. Tremors in one hand, most likely from being crushed under rubble in the tunnel. Nothing all too serious. Part of you thinks that set him back more emotionally than it did physically. A reminder to him that Makarov was still out there somewhere, because if he wasn't, no one would have had to have been hurt to begin with.

 

The boys had been moved out of the ICU the day after Soap’s awakening. They were deemed healthy enough to not need it, but were kept on the same floor just in case. Soap will start working with physical therapy. Then occupational therapy to work on fine motor skills and address the intermittent tremor.

 

You stayed by his side the entire time, of course. The plan was for them to evaluate, assign therapy, check progress, but leave you to work with Johnny and Gaz for both of their recoveries. Gaz being weeks ahead, he would mostly work alone.

 

You were trying to get Johnny loaded into a wheelchair to take him to physical therapy, but you weren't having much luck. Gaz had gone ahead and went to PT without you.

 

“Come on, babes. Up.”

 

“Don’ have to rush anywhere all that soon, do we? Why not jus’ enjoy some time alone together?”

 

He was moving slower than molasses while you helped swing his legs off the side of the bed and sit up. Granted, you can't move much faster anyway with your own problems. But you weren't about to complain about any of it. And he did just wake up from a coma. But because he didn't want to go, he made sure to drag it out even further.

 

His arms hooking around your waist to hold you in place and keeping you from moving him further.  

 

“Just yesterday you were saying that you wanted to be up and moving as soon as possible, and you got the doctor to give their blessing. I'm being nice and trying to help you do that, Johnny.” You try to move his arms, but he just tightens them around you.

 

Not that I want you to have any quick recovery. Not this time. If it keeps you from being hurt. I'll be a selfish asshole any day, if it means keeping him safe.

 

“Aye, bu’ then Gaz fucked off ou’ of here, the Captain isn’ here, and the big brooding bastard is off with Al and Rudy, and who knows how long tha'll last.” Without a warning, he lays back, pulling you on top of him as he does and making you squeal and trying to catch yourself and not land on him with your full weight.

 

“Johnny!”

 

“Ye're no’ gonna hurt me, hen.”

 

“I will if you pull another stunt like that!” You push yourself up and start climbing off, but his hands are on your hips and pulling you up so you were nose to nose with him.

 

“As you always say to me, ‘m no’ a delicate flower, m'girl.”

 

“Nooooo no, not at all, you are the picture of perfect health! What with the explosion, the tunnel collapse, needing major surgery. Lucky that giant head protected you! Wait… all those would tell me that you are a delicate flower right now.”

 

“Fine. Then treat me like one. Go easy on me if ye wan’, but I need ye right now.” He reaches up to cup your face with his hand.

 

You groan and place your forehead to his. “Sweetheart, you aren't making this any easier on me, because you know I have to be the voice of reason.”

 

“Tell tha’ voice to fuck off.” He tilts and kisses you softly, with you trying harder to get him to let you go as you kiss him back.

 

The door slides open, and Johnny breaks the kiss, with you tilting your head up as Johnny tilts his as far back as he can to see who it is.

 

Ghost, the infamous cock blocker.

 

“Simon, will you kindly tell your Sergeant to let me go, and any funny business will screw with his recovery?”

 

“Why no’ go for a really long walk, L.T.? Leave me and the missus alone for a good thirty minutes.”  

 

“Let her up, Johnny. We need to talk.”

 

Johnny actually releases you, letting you climb off and holding his hands out, with you grabbing and pulling him to sit up. “Wha's wrong, L.T.?”

 

Ghost moves further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dove, I need you to go get all of your stuff ready, Gaz is waiting for you outside the door.”

 

Fuck. Ghost mode.

 

“L.T.?” Johnny turns as much as he can to face Ghost. Before you can get too far away, Soap's gripping your wrist and keeping you close.

 

You look him over, trying to figure out where his head is at. “It's ok, you two talk and I'll see you soon. Right, Ghost?”

 

You turn your gaze to Simon, but he only gives you a hard glare. “Ghost?”

 

“Clock is ticking here, Dove.”

 

With a sigh, Johnny turns back to you, pulling you in for a kiss before he finally releases you.

 

You hurry out of the door, almost bumping into Gaz. “Whoa, don't knock me over now!”

 

“Shit, sorry bub. Gotta get to the elevator to get our things.” You sidestep him and jog to the elevator, slapping the call button a few times as if that will make it come any faster.

 

You finally get to your floor and jog to the room, gathering things and shoving them into your duffel bag. You flit around the room quickly, then off into the bathroom to grab the rest of your things, dumping them in the bag.

 

“Yours and Johnny's bags are still basically packed, minus the few items you've had on recently now that you've been able to move around more.” You tell Gaz, who is by his own bag that was stored in this room along with Johnny's as well.

 

“Good. Did Ghost tell you anything? Bit in the dark here myself in this one.” Gaz is looking over his things.

 

“Nope, just told to pack. You know I hate the details, Garrick.” You finally zip your bag up along with Johnny's, putting yours on first as it somehow was the lightest of them all. You then swing Johnny's bag up and over your shoulder, having to catch yourself from going ass over teakettle by doing so.  

 

Gaz is struggling to pick up his bag. You just now remember how heavy the thing was, so you go over to him and drop the bags you had on, hand Gaz your bag, put Johnny's back on, then start to half carry, half drag Gaz's bag back to the elevator.

 

Gaz looks awful guilty as you manhandle the two heaviest of bags, but you manage to get them there. Inside the elevator, Gaz presses the button to access the roof. “What about Ghost and Johnny?”

 

“Dropping these on the roof, then going back for them.” Gaz watches as the floor number ticks up on the panel.

 

You sigh, rolling your neck to try to crack it, then your shoulders to try to crack them.  

 

Relieve the tension. Breathe in slow through the nose. Breathe out slow from the mouth. Panic subside. All is just fine.

 

The doors ding open on the roof, bringing you back to reality. You follow Gaz out, who delicately sets your bag down close to the chopper parked on the roof. You not nearly as gracefully klunk down Gaz's bag, wincing when something metal and heavy shifts.

 

You then toss Soap's bag next to your own, bending down and rechecking zippers on yours to make sure you have it everything.  

 

“Love.” You hear from behind you. Looking over your shoulder is Price, smoking one of his cigars.

 

“Captain.” You stand and straighten yourself, stretching out your back.

 

“Got your stuff, then?” Price looks over towards your bag.

 

“Yeah, Soap's too.”

 

Price grumbles, pacing slightly while he continues to smoke.

 

“Let's get the boys and ship outta here, Gazatron.” You wave him over, heading to the roof access door.

 

“No need, love. Already called them. Trying to get Soap up and moving.”

 

“Oh, then I'll go help Simon.” You call over your shoulder.

 

“Ghost's got him, Love. Everything is under control and they will be here shortly. Let's get you strapped in, eh?” Price tosses the stub of his cigar down and uses his boot to put it out.

 

“Oh. Well. I'm fine waiting for the others.” You start walking back towards him. He looks at you, face stoned. Expressionless.

 

Fuck… Price check.

 

“John?”

 

“Come on, love. In ya get.” Price grabs your bag, tossing it into the helicopter and getting it positioned before he holds out his hand to you.

 

Cautiously you take it, trying to read his face and coming up with nothing. Once you climbed in, he directed you to sit in the middle jump seat. You took it, and watched as the Captain buckled you in.

 

“I know you know I hate details, but this is going to require at least a vague explanation.”

 

Price nods, still focusing on the straps. It's not until he has the last strap tightened that he looks up at you. There's something you can't quite read from his face.

 

“John?”

 

“Afraid we've out stayed out welcome here, Love. Being in one place for too long, was bound to happen. Our presence here couldn't go unnoticed forever. We've been compromised. Faster we move out, the better.”

 

“So we go to another hospital?”

 

Price shakes his head. “Too dangerous. Best bet is a safe house. Alejandro and Rodolfo have one secured for us. We'll go from there.”

 

Gaz climbs into the chopper, taking an empty seat next to you, patting your thigh. “No worries, you'll be safe with us.”

 

You nod up at him. “Whats taking Ghost and Johnny so long?”

 

“They're coming. They'll be on the next chopper out.”

 

“Next chopper?”

 

Price taps your knee, and you direct your attention to him. “Soap needs medical transport. This bird isn't equipped for that. You go with Gaz, Sanders, Alejandro, Rodolfo, and myself. Next bird will be the rest of them.” He raises his hand when you try to protest. “It’s for precautions, Love, otherwise you know I would have sent you with Ghost and Soap.”

 

Precautions… 

 

You can’t hide the disappointment on your face. You want to be with Johnny and Simon. You’d rather be there in case Johnny needed help, despite Simon being more than capable. You nodded slowly, conceding. Price pats your leg, grabbing headsets for you and Gaz before getting one for himself and sitting next to you. Once the headsets are in place, both of them start strapping in, the helicopter blades coming to life and starting to spin.

 

Sanders, Alejando, and Rodolfo climb in, taking the seats across from you and strapping in. Looking around, you notice none of them are as buckled up as much as you are. In fact, you think Price used some of his and Gaz’s straps to secure you in tighter. Overkill, you think.  

 

“Nikoli, ready for exfil!” Price says over comms.

 

“Rog! Do not worry, Soap's wife! You're in good hands! And Gaz? Stay inside the helicopter this time, eh?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Change of scenery, anyone?

Chapter 57: Safe Place

After a flight that seemed far too long, you finally landed at a military base. You were offloaded, then ask Private Sanders to take Gaz's bag for him. Gaz was less than pleased.

 

“I'm not an invalid, you know!”

 

“You're still healing, ya goob. Your bag weighs almost as much as a baby cow. Don't need to go carrying around anything you don't have to.” You tell him.

 

“I'm healing well enough. Doesn't hurt to get some strength up. I'm a bloody Sergeant, showing weakness is unbecoming of a leader.” Gaz tries to take your bag from you, but you bap his hands away.

 

“No it isn't, ya big baby. Besides, I bet Price would agree with me, Gazatron.” 

 

Alejandro laughs. “You're full of names for people, aren't you hermana?”

 

You look at him and smile. “What, you don't like my names for them?”

 

“Surprised they put up with them.”  

 

You shrug. “As much as they've put up with my ass, I've put up with theirs when we were all living together.”

 

“You lived with all of them? Ghost, too?” Rodolfo chimed in.  

 

“Yup. It isn't as hard as it sounds. Boundaries are always respected. I’m their live-in nurse, their housekeeper, their personal cook, all the things they need me to be. And in return, I get a pretty badass family. The dynamic sounds weird, but it works.”

 

You're led to a convoy of SUVs, being directed to one of them and tossing your bag in the back.

 

“Soap mentioned that you were face to face with Makarov?” Alejandro starts to shove his things into the SUV.

 

You give him a nod. “Put a gun to my head. Tried to take me as a hostage. And when that backfired… he shot me. And set the house on fire.”

 

“Failed his objective. Soap and you both survived.” Price comes over after loading his things into another SUV, patting you on the shoulder.

 

“Tried to take out Soap, tried to take out our little miss, and luckily failed on every attempt.” Gaz says as he puts his elbow on your other shoulder and leans on you.

 

You look up at him. “Lucky for all of us, Gaz. He's tried to get you, Ghost, and Price too.”

 

You turn towards the sound of an incoming chopper. “About bloody time. Thought they got lost.” Price waves you to him, and walks with you back towards the helipad. Alejandro ends up at your free side. Gaz, Rodolfo, and Sanders fall behind.

 

You all wait a safe distance as the bird touches down, Ghost being the first to exit. Another follows Ghost, and the two of them slowly, carefully bring Johnny down and set him on his feet. A slight wobble and Ghost grabs him tightly, preventing him from falling.

 

Your feet are moving before you even realize it. Shouts coming from behind you. Running. Ducking down when you get close enough to the helicopter and placing yourself under Soap's free arm.

 

“You're ok, we got you.” He turns his head at your voice, face brightening, eyes sparkling, grabbing your head and pulling it closer, just placing his face into your hair. Breathing you in.  

 

With Ghost taking the brunt of Soap's weight, you help move him back towards the group. Rudy opens the back door on a vehicle, you climbing in first to pull Soap in while Ghost pushes. Once he's seated, Johnny's arms are around you, face pressed against your neck. Ghost climbs in after, pulling the door shut.

 

“Told you we were heading right for her, Johnny.” Ghost leans forward to look at you.

 

“What happened? Bad flight?” You ask Simon, your fingers lightly moving through Johnny's mohawk to try to soothe him.

 

Ghost shakes his head. “Thought we were leaving you behind. Took him ages to get it through that thick skull of his that you'd already gone.”

 

You wait for Johnny to admonish Simon. But it doesn't happen. Your brow furrows with worry as you look to Ghost, wanting to ask him something. But he very slightly shakes his head to stop you.  

 

You sigh, patting Johnny on the back. “Can we get you buckled in? Hmm? Me and Ghost have been upside down in one of these things, and it's not pleasant.”

 

Soap lets go, leaning back and letting you pull the belt over him. “Don’ like ye sittin’ by the window.”

 

“You're a wee bit fragile right now, hon. You need the middle spot. It'll be ok.”

 

“Should switch with me, hen.”

 

“Johnny, sweetie, darling, I know you want to keep me safe. But right now, I'm keeping you safe. We get to trade spots for a minute. Except you have a far better aim, and are excellent blowing shit up”

 

He keeps quiet, contemplating before nodding. Both front doors open, Alejandro jumping in the passenger seat, turning in his seat to look back at the three of you. “Good to see you again, hermanos.” He smiles.

 

Johnny reaches out, Al grabbing his hand and squeezing it in greeting. “Glad to see you too, brother.”

 

Rudolfo gets into the driver's seat, buckling in. “Everybody ready? Safehouse isn't too far. Different than the last one.”

 

“Le's get this over with.” Johnny leans his head against you, so you wrap your arm around him. You peek over at Ghost, who has his eyes on Johnny, but looks up at you. You mouth out a ‘thank you’ to him. For helping with Soap. For getting Johnny on the helicopter. For so many things gone unsaid as of late.

 

Ghost nods, then turns his attention to the window on his side, keeping an eye out.

 

---

 

Though’ Ghost was lyin’ to me.

 

Though’ we were leavin’ ye behind.

 

Los’ my god damn mind.

 

After Simon jus’...

 

No. I wouldn’ allow anyone to keep ye from me.

 

Especially no’ now.

 

Can’ have ye ou’ of my sight.

 

---

 

“Johnny?”

 

“...”

 

“Jooooohnnnnnyyyyy…”

 

“...”

 

“We're here, sweetheart.”

 

Johnny moves his head as it rests on your shoulder. He'd fallen asleep at some point. You just kept your arm around him and let him rest, listening into the others talk here and there.

 

“Johnny honey, if you don't wake up, Simon is gonna start snogging on ya.”

 

“Don't tell him that, now he'll be expecting it.” Simon teases.  

 

You start to snort giggle. “Come on, babes. Wake wakey.” You jostle his shoulder a few times.

 

Soap finally takes in a deep breath through his nose, lifting his head and looking around, stretching a little. “We stopped?”

 

“We're at the safehouse, Soap.” Alejandro has turned in his seat to look back at the three of you.

 

“Is it nigh’ time?” He rubs his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was fairly dark right now in the SUV.

 

“Parked up. Garage is underground, but we can get into the safehouse from here.” Rudy says from the driver seat. Doors start opening on the other vehicles, Al and Rudy doing the same. You unbuckle yourself and Johnny before you turn to open your door.

 

Johnny grabs your shoulder, giving it a squeeze to get your attention. He looks exhausted. “Ghost, I need to talk to hen. Alone.”

 

“Save it for once we get inside, Johnny.” Ghost opens his door and climbs out, waiting for the two of you to exit.

 

“I wasn' askin’ permission.” Johnny grips onto you tighter, keeping you from going anywhere.  

 

“It's ok, Simon. Just give us a bit.” You carefully take Johnny's hands into yours, trying to calm him.

 

“Five minutes, Johnny.” Ghost says with a grunt before slamming the door shut.

 

Before you can ask him anything, Johnny grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss, his lips crashing over yours, making it almost impossible to keep up with the intensity behind it.

 

When he finally lets the both of you come up for air, he presses his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath. “Ghost told me you weren' coming with, and I though’ he meant ye were bein’ lef’ behind, bu’ then ye were righ’ there, and I…”

 

“Shhhh shh shh, everything's ok babes. I'm not going anywhere. Promise.”

 

Johnny pulls you in for a hug this time, arms engulfing you. He's lost a little muscle mass, but it definitely hasn't slowed him down much.

 

You slip your arms carefully around him, rubbing his neck. You wondered what brought this on. Trauma from the blast, being still very fresh out of the coma? Or a culmination of everything hitting him at once?

 

When he moves away, he holds your face in his hands, staring intently into your eyes. “Be hones’ with me. Would ye really tell Ghost before ye'd ever tell me?”

 

It takes you a bit before you finally realize what he's talking about. How you told Ghost he'd be the first to know if you ever did get pregnant.

 

You laugh quietly, leaning in and resting your forehead against his for a moment. “Doesn't sound like I'd have to, if you're going to tell him everything we do anyway.”

 

He looks away guiltily, closing his eyes, pushing you away and letting you go. “I didn’ mean to. Honest, m'girl.”

 

“I know. I mean, you weren't exactly quiet about stuff like that before you and I got together.”

 

“Shouldn'a talked about it then.”

 

“I'm not shaming you for it, Bubbles. I just ask that stuff between us stays between us. Ghost is way too fucking involved in our shit as it is, it's not any of his business.”

 

“Didn’ answer my question, though.”

 

You grab his chin lightly, turning his head to make him look at you. “If I thought I had to keep you from screaming to everyone you knocked me up, I might have to tell him first.”

 

That gets a laugh out of him. “Can ye blame me? My hen, carryin’ my bairn? Course I'm gonna go yellin’ about it. Be a li'l weird, beings we've only been together the one time. And ye said ye had birth control.”

 

“I do have it!”

 

“Jus’ teasing ye, m'girl.” He leans in, kissing you gently.

 

Your lips barely touch for two seconds before Ghost is opening the door. “Time's up.”

 

Johnny growls and pulls away. “Lockin’ ye ou’ next time, L.T.”

 

“You do that.” Ghost chuckles, holding a hand out to help Johnny get out of the SUV. Reluctantly, Soap grabs on and moves towards the door, with you helping as much as possible to get him out safely. Rudy comes over with a wheelchair, which Ghost sets Johnny into carefully.

 

You take over pushing Soap, following the group as they lead the way to the safehouse.  

 

“Ye should be sittin’ on my lap, lass.”

 

“Hard to push you from your lap, darlin’.”

 

“Ghost pushes both of us. Hop on.”

 

You laugh, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. “Hopping on is what made Simon freak out on me in the first place, so I really don't think that's a great idea.”

 

Johnny throws his head back and laughs, looking up at you. “He gave ye a hard time?”

 

“Hospital most likely caught it on video. I almost wrung his neck for it. Would be almost as satisfying as me punching Graves again.”

 

“Whoa whoa, slow down. You punched Graves?” Al stops walking to turn back to the two of you.

 

“Oh it was a beaut, Al. Clocked him a good one. Bet I watched tha’ video a few dozen times by now. Where's my phone, I'll show ye!”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 58: Therapy

“Please, hen?”

 

“No.”

 

“Jus’ a lil’ peek?”

 

“Still no, my love.”

 

“Ye’re killin’ me here, doll face.”

 

“You'll survive, babes.

 

“Wha’ if ye showed me one?”

 

“Johnathan MacTavish, I am not flashing you in the middle of your physical therapy, in front of everyone!”

 

Johnny groans as he falls onto his back to lay flat on the ground, flinging his arms up above his head like a toddler not getting their way.

 

After two weeks inside the safehouse making Johnny rest, he was getting stir crazy. So you decided to bring him outside whenever the weather was decent. A perfect opportunity to work on building his strength up. At first, Johnny needed help getting in and out of the house after the second week here at the safehouse, he's been moving a lot easier.

 

Captain Price, Ghost, Gaz, Al, and Rudy were all off on a mission, working on getting some intel. More soldiers had been brought in, making sure there was enough of them to keep an eye out and stay on patrol. Private Sanders was close by, keeping watch over you and Soap after you asked him to.  Mostly to have help with Johnny if you needed it.

 

You lean over Johnny and grab his hands when he reaches towards you, helping him sit back up. “No one needs to see any part of me naked, babes.”

 

“I do. Don’ think Ghost would mind much either, he could use a nice pair to look at.”

 

“I mind!” You let go of his hands and let him flop back again, this time he laughs as he falls. “Ghost has seen enough of me as it is, the poor bastard would be traumatized. Also, we should probably get your head examined, if you think in any way I'm going to flash Simon. No, scratch that, the fact that you think I should flash him is even more worrisome.”

 

Johnny lifts his head long enough to look at you and speak, then lays it back on the grass. “Ye're really killin’ my fun over here, m'girl.”

 

“Aww, poor widdle Bubbles can't get into his wifey's pants. How devastating.”

 

Johnny reaches out for you again, and you lean over him, grabbing his hands and pulling him into a sitting position again. "I was happy to jus' get into ye're shirt, but since you brought it up..."

 

“Ya know, you're supposed to be doing the sitting up part, not relying on me to pull your ass up, right?”

 

“Where's the fun in tha’?”

 

“You are a pain in my ass, you know that?” You grin at him.

 

“The biggest.” Johnny grabs your hands and lays back in the grass, pulling you with and making you land on top of him.  

 

You squeal out in surprise when he grabs onto you, and let out an ‘oof’ landing on him, quickly trying to get off of him. “Johnny! You're going to hurt yourself!”

 

He grabs under your armpits, pulling you up higher until he can kiss your lips. Instead you make sure he can't reach by pulling away. “You don't deserve to be kissed for pulling that stunt.”

 

“Take me back inside, I'll show ye what I deserve.” He grins that fucking grin, winking at you.

 

You can't help but laugh. “Oh, sure. You bitched about needing to be outside, and now you want to go back in?”

 

“Seein’ ye ou’ here? Sun shinin’, makin’ ye're skin and hair glow beau'ifully? I'm absolu'ly fine with goin’ back in ye.” He wraps his arms around you to keep you in place.

 

“...Really, Bubbles?”

 

“I mean’ back in with ye! Inside the house with ye! Though, tha’ par’ of me still works jus’ fine, if ye want.” He grins more, wiggling his eyebrows up and down at you.

 

You roll your eyes and try to take his arms off of you, which only makes him barrel roll over until he's laying on top of you, pinning you underneath him, making you laugh more. “Where d'ye think ye're goin’? Hmm?”

 

“I was going to go start dinner, silly boy.” You try to push him off. Johnny grabs your hands, pinning them above your head.  

 

“Don’ wanna be lef’ here withou’ ye, princess. Don’ wanna be by myself.” He leans down, putting his forehead to yours.

 

“Sanders will stay out here with you, babes.”

 

“He's no’ nearly as fun. Ye know ye can’ keep me away forever. Ye share a bed with me, darlin'.” He climbs off of you and gets to his feet, holding a hand out towards you.  

 

You ignore it, hoisting yourself up to stand and brush dirt and grass off of yourself. “Seriously though, sit outside a while. Soak up some of that much needed vitamin D.”

 

“Give ye some D la'er.” He laughs when you swat him on the arm. “I'm jus’ teasin’ ye, beau'ful girl!”

 

“You're gonna get us in trouble, especially after the fit Simon had about me being ‘pregnant’.” After letting Johnny kiss you once more, you head inside to start dinner.

 

---

 

You're still chopping everything to go into the massive pot of stew you are making for dinner when you hear Johnny yelling orders by the back door. You keep your focus on the task at hand so you don't add a finger to the pot.

 

Cooking had started off with most of the guys taking turns, not wanting to burden you with the task. They wanted you to focus more on taking care of Soap and Gaz when he needed it. Then one night you pushed Ghost out of the kitchen because you couldn't take whatever he was trying to pass off as ‘food’, cooking up a storm from whatever you could find in the house. After that, you were asked to pitch in a little more. And you did, much to the delight of everyone.

 

As you keep adding to the pot, you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, a familiar scruff of a beard nuzzling against your neck as Johnny laid his mohawked head against you, with him letting out a content little sigh.

 

“Someone seems to be feeling a lot better today.”

 

“Mmm. Fresh air been doin’ me some good, hen. Lit'le more of tha’, and I'll be back in the field in no time.”

 

You can't help the feeling of your stomach dropping, but you try not to react in any other way, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“After you get your hands on Makarov... What happens then?”

 

“Party of the century, hen. Celebrate the fuck ou’ of it. Drink until we can’ see straigh’. Ge’ married. Drink until we can’ walk straigh’. A month for our honeymoon. See abou’ star'in’ our own wee lit'le task force. Then we're all back in the grind.”

 

You nod slowly. “You ever thought about… retirement?”

 

Johnny lifts his head off of you, kissing your cheek. “Tha's years away from now, lass. Can’ retire and let Captain, L.T., and Gaz down, yeah?”

 

“What if Cap and Simon retire soon?”

 

“Gaz and I will look for another task force.”

 

“How about… still being a part of the 141, but in a lower capacity? Training recruits, teaching them to blow some shit up, that sorta thing?”

 

“And le’ the others have all the fun in the field? No way, hen.”

 

You nod again, putting down your knife and grabbing a few handfuls of what you've cut up and toss it into the gigantic stew pot. You feel Johnny move his head, placing his lips against your neck as he speaks now, the vibration almost tickling. “Why're ye askin’ me all this, lass?”

 

You give a slight shrug so you don't jostle him too much. “Just… curious.”

 

“Hen.”

 

Picking up the knife again, you go back to chopping, shaking your head. “I was just wondering what the plan was after Makarov takes a permanent dirt nap. Or gets thrown in a pit and never sees the light of day.”

 

“Wha’ would you rather happen?”

 

You set down the knife again, tossing the rest into the stew pot, adding seasonings to it. Johnny grabs the pot before you can, with you giving him an unimpressed look while he carries it to the stove. You wash your hands before turning on the stove to let it start to cook, setting the lid on top.  "It's whatever you want, Johnny."

 

“Wha’ I want is to know what you wan’ to see happen, m'girl.”

 

You go and wash the knife and cutting board, drying them on a nearby hand towel. When you turn, Johnny is standing right in front of you, making you bump into him.  Johnny then picks you up, setting you on the countertop, standing between your legs and placing one hand on either side of you.

 

“Could you maybe just not lift my big ass for a while, you might pull something and undo all your progress.”

 

“I've answered all your questions, ye have to answer mine now. What do you wan’ to happen?”

 

You let out a sigh, dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, picking at your skin a little. “I want all of you to retire. Or… take on lesser roles that keep you close to home. Not running all over the planet getting shot at.”

 

A finger on the underside of your chin, and some pressure to coax your face up, eyes looking into his now. “Ye know we can’ do tha’, darlin’. “

 

You nod, letting your gaze fall again. Giving a slight shrug of your shoulders. “Can't blame a girl for asking.”

 

Johnny runs a thumb over your cheek, getting you to look at him again. “Especially no’ you, m'girl. Ye've been through it with us. Ye've seen a more than any of us ever intended.”

 

“Yeah. And all of you’ve worked your asses off to be where you are now, and have given your blood, sweat, and tears to fight for everything you believe in. I'm just… selfish.”

 

Johnny shakes his head at you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you tight into his chest. “No, m'girl. It's no’ selfish tha’ ye care abou’ us so much.”

 

You rest your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his neck, mindful of not hurting him.  Next thing you know, Johnny grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, grabbing under your thighs and lifting you off the counter. “Johnny!”

 

“Wha’?”

 

“Put me down before you hurt yourself!”

 

“You're helpin’ me gain my strength, dollface. Besides, there was talk earlier about getting a big dose of vitamin d, and ye're about to get it.”  

 

“I have the stove on, ya goober, I can't just leave it completely unattended.”

 

Soap stops in his tracks. Thinking for half a second, he walks back to the door and opens it. “Sanders! Ge’ in here and man the fuckin' kitchen!”

 

Slamming the door shut, he smiles, carrying you back to your room. “Problem solved. Time to ge’ ye ou’ of tha’ pret'y lit'le head of ye'res, and concentrate on me.”

 

“So do exactly what I've been doing all this time we've been here?  Fine. But only cuddles and kisses, mister. You need to heal.”

 

“I can work with tha’.”

 

 

Chapter 59: Fresh Air

You wished you had a place like this.

 

Out in the middle of nowhere.

 

No one knowing where you were.

 

Hell, you didn't even know where you were!

 

Surrounded by trees, to not be easily detected from above.

 

Sweet isolation.

 

You were sitting on the porch swing in front of the safehouse. The sun hasn't risen yet, and a little fog has settled close to the grass. You hear the birds starting to wake up and yips from unknown creatures off in the far distance. Foxes maybe. Coyotes perhaps?

 

You haven't slept all that great since the conversation with Johnny. You fall asleep just fine, Johnny wrapped around you. But by 0300 hours you are up and wide awake. The first night you stayed in bed, hoping to pass back out. That definitely didn't happen. So the next night when you woke up at three again, you climbed out of bed, stuffing pillows into Johnny's arms to placate him while you tried to occupy yourself.

 

Even though the conversation played out just as you thought it would, there was a tiny speck of hope that he'd say he'd retire, or that he'd step down. You still hold onto the dream of all of them just saying ‘fuck it’ and stepping away from the military.

 

You know it's only a dream. Career military people don't just give up because a loved one asked. How many others have asked for the same throughout history?

 

You pull your legs onto the swing, bringing your knees up towards your chest and pulling the bottom of your hoodie over top of them to warm up. It's colder now than it has been the last few days. You'll have to remind yourself to bring a blanket next time. Or put on a few more layers of clothes.

 

There were a few soldiers out here on patrol. The first night you about gave them a coronary when you stepped outside. You had to console them and promise things were fine, that you just needed some fresh air.  After the initial nigjt, you brought them each coffee as a consolation, and every time after.  You didn't need any of them hovering over you, you had a ‘husband’ and a Ghost that did that plenty enough as it was. You told them that you would stay on the porch, on the swing, and they could continue patrol as per their usual. So far, they've kept to your wishes.

 

You close your eyes and let out a sigh, resting your head to your knees. You knew you'd have to crawl back into bed soon. You'd rather be there when Johnny wakes up so as not to throw him into a panic. But right now you just want to savor the moment.

 

You must have drifted off because you are startled awake at the sound of the front door creaking open, the sound of heavy boots on the wooden porch. Standing in front of you is Price, somehow having not taken notice of you yet. He lights his cigar, puffing away for a moment before bending backwards to get in a good stretch.  

 

They all had returned late in the day, so you did what you do best: put them into food comas, and sent them off to bed. Al and Rudy looked like they'd been banged up pretty good. Gaz, Ghost, and Price both didn't have a scratch on them.  

 

Surprisingly.

 

You stay still and keep quiet, waiting to see if he-

 

“Hello, Love.”

 

Guess he noticed.

 

“Hi, John.”

 

He turns toward you finally, coming over and sitting on the swing next to you. “What're you doin awake this early?”

 

You slightly shrug your shoulders. “Woke up to get something to drink. Couldn't fall back to sleep.”

 

“Mmm. How long?”

 

“Came out here a couple hours ago.”

 

“Meant how long has the no sleep thing been happening?”

 

“Oh, uh… not long?"

 

“Love.”

 

You give Price some massive side eye. “Four? Five days, maybe?”

 

“Everything ok between you and my Sergeant?”

 

“Yeah?  Fine. Great, even.”

 

“But?” Price shifts a bit, still enjoying his cigar.

 

“No ‘buts’. Just… great.”

 

“Then what's got you all buggered?”

 

You let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes for a second before opening them again. “Some things that I have to wrap my head around and come to terms with.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“I don't want to dump my problems onto you, John.  Feels like I do that a lot to all of you."

 

“Not dumping anything. I'm asking you to tell me.”

 

“But I know you already have a lot on your plate, I don't wanna add to that more than I already have at this point.”

 

“Can't keep runnin’ circles with me, Love.”

 

You close your eyes, rolling your head back and forth and side to side, cracking your neck. After you settle, you keep your eyes closed. “I… don't wanna say. As soon as I spill my guts, you'll go back and tell Johnny and Simon.”

 

“Do you want me to?” 

 

You snort, opening your eyes finally. “Fuck no. I already have the two of them constantly lording over me.” 

 

“Then give me some credit, love.” He blows out a cloud of smoke before leaning towards you, saying quietly. “I'll never tell.”

 

You turn your head and look at him, eyeing him suspiciously. Though thinking on it, he is very loyal to those he trusts. And he definitely trusts you. Which brings you some peace. But the thought of any of this getting back to Johnny or Simon makes you very uneasy. It's not something you want either of them to know about.  

 

Price drops the remains of his cigar on the ground, stamping it out with his foot before he turns to you fully. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he gives it a squeeze. “I'm not going to say a word to those men.”

 

You unfurl your legs, letting them down slowly and stretching them out a bit before turning in the swing to face him, scrutinizing his face. Your resolve starts to fizzle, closing your eyes and dropping your head. Taking in a deep breath, letting it out, you raise your head and open your eyes, looking at him for a moment before slowly bringing your hand up, fist closed, except for your pinky finger sticking out.

 

The look he gives you is priceless. But he does seal the deal with his own pinky hooked around yours, with a slight handshake.  

 

You nod, taking in another breath and letting it out. “Thank you.”

 

Price grunts, hunting for another cigar and lighting it.

 

You shift on the swing, bringing your legs up and stuffing them under your hoodie again.

 

“Heard Ghost and Soap bickering here and there. Wouldn't quite tell me what they were on about.” Price leaned back in the swing, moving the whole thing slowly by rocking his foot as he mouthed another cigar.

 

“When was this?”

 

“Few days before we left here. You have any idea what they were on about?”

 

Uhhhhhh….

 

“Not... really?  I had asked Johnny what he thought about retirement, but that was after you boys were gone.   Since you, me, and Simon talked about it on the roof the day he woke up.”

 

“And?”

 

“Definitely no plan on that happening anytime soon. If the 141 disbands, he'll find another task force. Anything to keep him in the field.  His words, basically.”

 

“Why were you asking for retiring this time?”

 

You look down at your hands, picking at the skin around your fingers. “I asked what the plan was after Makarov was done with. He mentioned celebrating. Making things more official between the two of us. Kids...”

 

“Ah.”

 

“You think I'm stupid for even asking, I know. Maybe I am?. Definitely feels like it.”

 

“Never said that. Of course you'd want that to happen if he's talking little buggers runnin around.”

 

“Mhm. Then I asked him if he wouldn't retire, would he at least look into taking a lesser role.”

 

“How'd that turn out?”

 

“Exactly how you think it did.”

 

“What other roles were you thinkin’?”

 

“Fuck, I dunno. Johnny could stick around base, keep his focus on recruits. Or you all put your efforts into molding a new task force. They wouldn't be the best of the best, but second best wouldn't be too bad. Anything to keep you all out of harm's way, ya know? We almost lost Gaz and Johnny this time. Patched them all up, got their strength back, and for what? To send them off again and hope they don't get killed?  I'm tired of it, Price. So fucking tired.” You bring your hands up, cradling your face in them, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. You didn't want to fall apart. Not now.

 

Price scoots a little closer to you, tossing his cigar before putting his arm across your shoulders, coaxing you to lean against him. You do move a little, your head laying on his arm. “You really do love us, eh Lovey?”

 

You let out a sniffle, nodding and rubbing your nose with the arm of your hoodie “Set myself up for heartache there, didn't I?. Wouldn't change it if I could though.”

 

“Neither would we. You want me to have a talk with Soap?”

 

You shake your head.  "I want all of you to just retire. Live life. Do things you enjoy without the worry of being sent to bumfuck Egypt. Have a huge plot of land in the middle of nowhere.”

 

“You've put some thought into this, eh?”

 

“I've had a lot of time to be in my head as of late.”

 

“Not always a good thing.”

 

“I know.  It's what I'm worst at. But I have to be in there. Try to change my mindset. Come to terms that you'll all be fighting until the day you can't. You can never take the military out of a person, even if the person is taken out of the army.”

 

“That's for bloody certain.” He tenses up a little, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “Sorry. Didn't mean it to come out that way.

 

You shrug. “I'm trying to deal with it, John. I know I've been a fucking buzz kill lately.”

 

“No. You've been pushed past your limits. You've put up with a hell of a lot from us. And it's only fair for you to want these things. Getting them, however…”

 

“Not a snowball's chance in hell. No matter if I broke everyone's legs. No matter if I lobotomise every single one of you. I know all of this. Just… part of me wishes it could be different is all.”

 

Price pays you on the shoulder, letting out a sigh. “Some day, lovey. You'll get that wish.”

 

You nod, leaning away from him now. The sun is well over the horizon by now. “I should probably-”

 

Before you can finish your sentence, the front door swings open harshly, Soap looking one way, then the other, spotting you on the swing next to Price. He breathes heavy, wiping some sweat from his face.

 

Ah beans…

 

Walking toward you, crouching down in front of you and placing his hand on your cheek, Johnny looks you over. “Righ’ abou’ gave me a fuckin’ hear’ attack, m'girl.”

 

“I kept her company a little longer than I intended. Sorry, son.”  

 

“Meant to get back to ya before you woke up. Sorry, sweetie.”

 

Johnny looks up at you a little longer before standing and holding his hands out to you. You unfurl yourself, taking his hands and standing, looking back at Price and smiling. “See ya later, John.”

 

“Take care, love.” He waves you off and Johnny is already pulling you towards the door, opening it and guiding you inside.

 

“Did ye shove ye'r pillow into my arms?” He walked with you back towards the bedroom, talking quietly to not wake anyone.

 

You waited until you were in the bedroom and the door was shut. “Figured it was a good placeholder until I got back.”

 

Johnny is by you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your forehead, running a hand over your back. “Nothin’ can replace ye, swee'hear’. Why were ye awake, anyway?”

 

“Couldn't fall back to sleep. Thought the fresh air would help.”

 

He pulls away, cradling your face in his hands. “If somethin’ was botherin’ ye, ye'd tell me, aye?”

 

You give him a nod, placing a hand on top of his. “I would. But for the moment, I should maybe try to get some more sleep.”

 

Johnny is faster than you for getting the bed situated again, pulling back the covers for you to crawl under. You look at him with a raised brow. “I'm supposed to be taking care of you Bubbles.”

 

“And righ’ now, I'm takin’ care of ye. Get in, princess.”

 

You can't help but smile a little, crawling back under the covers and situating your pillow. Johnny crawls in next to you, which has you frowning. “Not staying awake?”

 

“Seems like my hen needs her ‘emotional suppor’ Soap’ righ’ now. They don’ need me for anything.” He scoots closer, scooping you up into those massive arms of his and comforting you.

 

You decide you'll have a talk with him again. Soon. Just maybe… not right now.

 

Notes:

Hehe hehe... 'Price'less

Chapter 60: Retirement

Notes:

HELLO MY LOVELY HUMANS!

I didn't forget about you. Not even a little, honest!!

A busy time of yes for all of us lately and I wasn't any exception.

Crossing my fingers that things finally settle down soon. Which probably won't be until after the new year, but eh. What can I do.

This kinda went sideways a little and didn't intend for it to go like this, soooo...

NSFW

Maybe don't read this in public.

Off to try to write the next chapter okthnxluvubaiiii

 

 

I don’ think I can even explain it to ye proper.

The way my stomach dropped at firs’.

Wakin’ up, ye not there in my arms? Though’ ye in the bathroom. Had to’ve been.

No’ there? Odd. So odd. Had a look through the house.

Nowhere inside? I though’… Somethin’ bad happened to ye.

Silly, I know. Ye’re the safest Ye’ve ever been. So many eyes on ye.

Panicked a bit. No’ gonna lie there. Didn’ have to, Price and ye saw it all over me.

I dunno wha’ ye were talkin’ abou’. Maybe I shouldn’ wan’ to know.

Bu’ I do.

I wan’ ye to be able to come to me and tell me anythin’. Everythin’.

Ye must have been bone tired, ye’re sleepin’ so peaceful. Don’ have the hear’ to wake ye, even though I just wanna put my lips all over ye.

So peaceful. So fuckin’ beau’iful.

Can help it. The way I feel abou’ ye.

I wan’… No. Not wan’. I fuckin’ need to make ye mine. Buy ye a proper ring. Show everyone I’ve been fuckin’ serious about marriyin’ ye.

Then we can st-

 

---

 

You woke up with a quiet gasp, eyes flying open and heart pounding in your chest. It takes a moment before you realize where you are. Sitting up slowly, you press the heels of your hands against your eye sockets.

A hand Is on your cheek makes you jump slightly and take your hands away from your face. “Hey hey, shhhhh shh shh, ye’re alrigh’ bon. Jus’ me here. Nothin’ and no one can get to ye.”

Johnny slides himself closer to you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close. You let out a heavy breath, burying your face into his neck. He’s taken a shower recently, so he smells absolutely amazing. Johnny lightly strokes your hair. “Wha’ happened, m’girl?”

“I… I don’t even know.”

Johnny leans you away, staring at you hard with a frown on his face. “Ye know ye can tell me, my swee’ girl. Ye’re safe with me.”

You look at him and nod, trying to smile even though you are still very worked up. “Wait, what time is it?”

Johnny checks his watch. “Jus’ after 11:00.”

“Ah shit… I didn’t mean to sleep all that long.”

“‘s alrigh’, hen. Ye needed the rest, aye?”

You nod in agreement. “What’s everyone up to?”

“Cap, L.T., Gaz, and some of our men went with Al and Rudy. The rest are outside on patrol.

You run your hands over your face as you nod, letting out a sigh. “Weren’t you supposed to be with the boys today?”

“Aye. Captain gave me new orders.”

You open your fingers as you keep them on your face, peeking at him through the gaps and raising an eyebrow. “What ‘new orders’?”

“Price told me I had to take care of ye the whole res’ of the day.”

You drop your hands and look at him. “Why does everyone have it backwards? Supposed to be me taking care of you.”

Johnny chuckles and pulls you onto his lap, having you straddle his negs as he nuzzles against you. “Jus’ le’ me take care of ye, m’girl.”

You put your arms around his neck carefully, crossing them at the wrist and hanging on to him with an almost exasperated sigh. “You and I have very different definitions when it comes to caregiving, dearest.”

Flashing you that grin, he leans forward and rests his forehead to yours. “Can’ quite blame me for tha’, can ye hen?”

You stare into his eyes, a smile creeping onto your face despite you fighting it. “No, I suppose not.”

He nods triumphantly, tilting and kissing your lips, then over your jaw, whispering into your skin. “Then le’ me take care of my wife.”

If he wasn’t distracting you as well as he was, you would be protesting a whole lot more at the moment. Instead your eyes close some as you whisper back. “If you insist…”

Voice of reasoning be damned.

Johnny hums, wrapping his arms around you tighter, kissing over any part of exposed skin he can reach. “Think ye’re shirt is in the way of my takin’ care of ye, dollface.”

You lean back a little and open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head with a grin. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Indulge my one lit’le request.” That definitely wasn’t a question.

“Uh huh, nothing about you is ‘little’. If I give you my shirt, then what?”

“With an ego boost like tha’, let’s skip to the end where I have ye naked.” He’s already pulling your shirt up and over your head as you shriek and laugh, him tossing it out of reach before taking his own shirt off.

You stop him before he can take anything else off of you. “Nuh uh, the last time you got me naked, you went blabbing about it to Simon, and I ended up interrogated while you were having an extended nap.”

“Jus’ another thing added to the list of things I’ll be beggin’ ye for forgiveness til the end times, swee’hear’.”

“Getting’ to be a long list there, Bubbles.”

“You’ll have me at ye’re mercy forever, then. Best ge’ married to make it official.”

You can’t help the laugh you let out, wrapping your arms around his neck again. “Guess we better plan a trip to Vegas with the boys?”

“Uh uh, I wanna be able to show off my stunnin’ bride to everyone we know.”

“I don’t know that many people, Johnny.”

“Wha’ about ye’re family?”

“You’re my family.”

“No’ us, I mean’-”

You stutter and put a finger on his lips to make him stop talking. “I know what you meant. And I’m telling you, that you, Simon, Kyle, and John are the only family I have. The only family that will ever be invited to any huge milestone in my life.”

“Wha’ abou’ Al and Rudy?”

You shrug. “You boys know them better than me, and I trust your judgment on that front. So… Al, Rudy, and the 141.”

Johnny concedes with a slight nod. “Ok. We’re ye’re family.” He tilts in and kisses you softly on the lips.

You kiss back just as soft. “Only family I need.”

He hums in agreement, kissing down to your neck once again, hands splayed over your back and pulling you closer to him before shifting his arms and his weight, flipping you onto your back and him crawling over you to keep you from moving. It’s only when he’s on you that you notice his hands were busy and he’d popped open the back of your bra “We’ll jus’ have to expand on our lit’le family by ourselves.”

You giggle and say it before your brain has a chance to stop you. “You’d better retire real soon then.”

Johnny gives your neck a nibble before leaning back to look down at you. “We talked abou’ tha’, m’girl.”

Fuck… Whyyyy did you say that?!

“I know. I… dunno why I even said that.” You let out a little laugh, trying to cover yourself for saying that out loud.

“Take it ye didn’ like my answers. Wha’re ye thinkin’, then? Hmm?”

“Nothing, I’m being silly is all.”

“Hen…”

Your smile drops some, looking him over as you speak next. “Just…like I’d mentioned. Retirement. Or you stepping away from deployment duties… wishful thinking, ya know?”

“I can’ let my team down, lass.”

You nod slowly, letting out a heavy sigh. “I know. Not asking you to let them down. I mean, preferably I’d rather all of you retired. At the same time. No one leaves anyone in the lurch.”

“Ye’d need to do a lot of convincin’. Specially with Simon.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” You lean forward, resting your forehead to his, his hands moving to your sides and squeezing gently. “Would have to sedate him and put him in a kennel.”

Soap chuckles with a slight nod. “Anythin’ else I can do to ease ye’re mind?” Johnny asks quietly.

You shrug. “Everything you don’t want to do is what I do want.”

“Mm. Can I ask why?”

You lay back, staring into his eyes and moving your hands up, fingers cupping his face and rubbing your thumbs over his chin, especially over one of the many scars he has there. “Almost losing you. Again. The first time, I thought I had. After…” You look away for a second, eyes to the scar on his head, left behind by the bullet he took to the skull. You look back into his eyes before continuing. “…After what Makarov had said. And this second time, I was so fucking scared. And talking about getting married, and having kids? I… I just…”

“Ye wha’?”

You close your eyes, still holding his face, letting out a shaky breath, almost whispering. “I don’t ever want to have to tell our kids we’ve lost you. I don’t wa-… I don’t want to have to… to raise our kids without you.”

Soap stays silent for some time. You slowly open your eyes, seeing the pained look on his face. He wraps his arms around you, holding tightly while burying his face into your neck while you hug him. “No’ gonna happen, swee’hear’.”

You take in a slow breath, letting it out just as slow, whispering to Johnny. “I shouldn’t’ve said anything…”

He leans away to look at you, shaking his head. “No. Don’ do tha’. Don’ matter what it is, I always wanna know wha’ goes on in tha’ pret’y lit’le head of ye’res. I love ye, my swee’ girl. You matter to me. Ye’re feelin’s matter to me.”

“I… guess I still see everything as the outsider looking in on you. For all of you. I have a lot of time to be in this head, and I need to be better about keeping my thoughts to myself. Like I used to.”

“Hen.”

“No, I mean it, Johnny. How many times have I told you something that you don’t need to be thinking about, especially out in the field. Especially with this. I used to be better about not bringing this stuff up, and I jus-”

Soap leans down and kisses you hard, like he was trying to merge himself deep within your skin as you have already done with him. Not leaving your lips until you are good and breathless, turning and biting down on your neck, making you gasp. When he finally pulls away, he has an arm on either side of you, his beautiful baby ocean blue eyes looking at you intently. “Ye’re thinkin’ too much righ’ now, m’girl. Focus on me.”

Before you can respond he’s kissing you again, pressing himself against you while leaning on one arm, the other pulling your bra off, tossing it somewhere before he lays over you again, his lips moving down your cheek, over your jaw, down your neck, over your chest, and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. Coaxing a few more gasps and whimpers from you, trying to keep as quiet as you can. Johnny gives you a moan in return. “Fuckin’ hell been forever since ye made sounds like tha’ for me.”

He's kissing, and sucking his way up to your collarbone, going further until you are kissing his lips desperately, pressing yourself up into him now, even grinding your hips into his and getting another moan out of him, his breath becoming shaky as you kiss and bite down on his neck now. “Tha’s it, m’girl. Fuck, tha’s it.”

“Johnny…” You slip your hands down in between the two of you, blindly fumbling with his belt to get it unbuckled, loosening it enough so when you get them unbuttoned and unzipped you can easily slide them down off of his hips, a long played out groan escaping him. He sits up impatiently, tearing his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, throwing them aside and crawling back over you.

He starts kissing you again, swiping his tongue over your lips until you open them with a sigh, while he’s pulling your arms up around his neck and humming happily when you wrap them around him, pulling back to look at you.” “How’d ye get to be so fuckin’ beau’iful?”

“I’m not, you just have a very biased opini-OW!” You can’t help the squeal as his hand came down and cracked you on the ass, with you smacking him on the arm. “Johnny!”

“Oi! Ye can’ handle a complimen’ from me, ye get a smart bot’om’.”

“I don’t need it to be any smarter than it already is!”

That gets a laugh out of him, shaking his head. Johnny goes back to kissing you, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist while scooping his hands under you and pulling you with as he sits up, with you shifting until you are sitting up on your knees over him as he settles against the headboard with looking down at him.

“Another argument for you to retire? You’d be home and could have me like this just about every day.”

“Oi, tha’s no’ a fair argument, princess…”

“All is fair in love and war, sweetheart.” You grin and lean in, biting his neck and giggling when he pushes you away.

“I tha’ case…” Johnny pushes you over and lays you over his lap, spanking you as you squeal.

“Johnny! Gonna kick your ass the first chance I get!”

“Ye can surely try, m'girl.” He spanks you again before having you sit up on him.

“It’s almost unsettling with how easy you can toss me around like a rag doll.”

“Maybe. But you like it.” He hooks an arm around you, flipping you into your back and crowding himself on you with that grin.

“Trying to give me whiplash, Mister MacTavish?”

“No’ in the slightest, Missus MacTavish. Jus’ makin’ sure ye know who’s boss.”

“That’d be me.”

“Mm… ye got me.” He kisses you again before sitting up in his knees, placing a finger to his chin and tapping it a couple times. “Somethin’s no’ righ’ here.”

You frown, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and looking him over and biting your lip. “I know, I put on a few pounds since I took over cooking.” You grab a part of your stomach and jiggle it.

He bats your hands away and pushes you onto your back again, shaking his head. “Ye could gain fifty kilos and I’d still look at ye the same way, gorgeous. I was referrin’ to ye having on way too many clothes still.” He grabs at your waist, hooking his hands underneath the band of both leggings and underwear, starting to pull them down.

You can’t help but blush as your stomach suddenly feels like there’s a few hundred butterflies inside it, your heart swelling inside your chest. Johnny pulls them off of your ankles, tossing everything aside and letting out a groan when he gets the full sight of you naked under him.

He lifts one of your legs, kissing at the ankle but slowly making his way up your body, biting your skin here and there which makes you hiss a little in surprise.

Carefully he helps you sit up before he moves so his back is against the headboard again, his breath quickening the longer he stares at you.

You very carefully move around on his legs, straddling them and keeping yourself hovered over him for now. Wrapping one arm around his neck you kiss his lips, running your fingers through his mohawk as he lets out a moan.

Your other hand carefully moves in between the two of you, lightly brushing your fingertips over his dick, a surprised gasp escaping his lips before your hand fully wraps around him, slowly, almost painfully so, stroking him.

“Fuuuck, princess… no’ quite wha’ I mean’ abou’ feelin’ ye…”

You slide down and kiss over his shoulder, letting go of him long enough to swipe your fingers between your legs and coating them with your own slick, so much of it stretching between your fingers like spiderwebs as you place your hand back around his cock, using yourself to coat him, stroking him much more easily, Johnny panting as his eyes closed and he leaned his face against your shoulder. “No’ gonna last long like this, princess.”

He leans back and opens his eyes before his lips crash against yours, kissing you as if it were more important than oxygen while taking your hand off of him, throwing both your arms around his shoulders while he’s gripping onto your hips, lifting you just enough to pull you forward, cock twitching against you while you carefully shift your hips so you can oh so slowly sink down onto him, burying your face into his neck and wrapping your arms around him even tighter, trying not to make too much noise when he bottoms out inside you.

“Hoooooly fuck, Johnny… Don’t remember you feeling so fucking huge, oh my god!” You pant out, whisper yelling at him while too afraid to move just yet. Even if the house was empty, you didn’t exactly want to let anyone outside hear anything.

Carefully you shift to get into a better position, making Johnny lean his head back and let out a prolonged groan, a shudder to his voice just from the little bit of movement.

You do try to put your hand on his mouth to keep him quiet, but it doesn’t entirely block out the majority of the sound he makes. When he starts breathing heavily you take your hand away, wrapping your arms around his neck again. “Really don’t need someone rushing in here, babes…”

“No’ tryin’ to. Feel so fuckin’ amazing, I almos' bust. Don’ move yet. No’ yet, swee’hear’. Please,”

“Not going anywhere, Bubbles.”

Johnny nods, taking a few minutes before he tries a roll his hips, sucking air through his teeth. “Fuuuckin’ hell…”

You again shift to balance yourself on your knees more, taking one arm away and holding onto the headboard behind him, getting a little leverage to move him out and back in. Johnny’s lips are on yours in an instant when you try a second time, grabbing your hips and helping you move on him. You take your other arm off him to have both hands holding onto the headboard, trying to at least keep it from bouncing off the wall.

“Fuck, I’m already so close.” You whisper into Johnny’s ear before pressing your lips against his shoulder, letting out muffled moans before panting.

“Give it to me, baby doll. Cum for me cum all on me. Need to feel ye. Come on, swee’hear’.”

A couple more thrusts from him quickly sends you over the edge, hand going to his shoulder and digging your nails into his skin while your whole body tenses, holding your breath so you make the least amount of noise. Johnny’s kissing you deeply while making almost no effort to keep himself quiet. The both of you breathing heavily while coming down from your ecstasy, rocking on Johnny until he grabs you in a bruising hold and puts his forehead against yours, laughing a little between breaths. “Have I told ye lately how much I love ye?”

You giggle. “It’s been twenty minutes since the last time you said it.”

“Well in tha’ case, I am despera’ly in love with ye.”

“Good…” You lean back a little while looking down between the two of you, then look up at him again. “Uhm… can I get a warning next time?”

You’d almost swear he was blushing right now. “Didn’ even ge’ a warnin’ myself. Sorry, m’girl.”

You shake your head and kiss him. “Alls forgiven if you carry me to the bathroom and help clean me up?”

He laughs, moving the both of you to the edge of the bed and pulling your legs around his waist, holding you while standing. “If tha’s all it takes for me to me forgiven, then gladly.”

Your arms are around his neck, teasingly nibbling at his skin and giggling. “Might take a little more than that sometimes, babe.”

“Keep doin’ tha’, and ye’ll have a hard time getting’ me off ye.”

“Hmm… challenge accepted.”

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Why is it that when I copy and paste from another doc that it loses all my editing? Even when I copy/paste to rich text?

 

Whyyyyyyy?!

Chapter 61: Voice of Reason

Notes:

Good morning!

Had enough of a break to button this one and start on the next.

Enjoy!

 

 

True to his word, Johnny was all over and in you the next week. He barely left you alone, and if he did he was right next to you the minute he got back. You kind of think he's more obsessed with you now than he has been before.  Possessive, definitely.

 

You had to give him a stern talking to and remind him a few times when he wanted to protest about going off with the others, not wanting to leave. You made up for it when he got back at least.

 

One morning, you got up extra early to make breakfast. Price, Alejandro, and Rudy sitting at around a table and looking at maps and papers. A few of the other soldiers were standing and listening in, all speaking in hushed tones. When you entered the room, they all went silent and looked at you. You instantly felt uncomfortable.

 

“Am I interrupting anything?”

 

Price stands and walks toward you with a half smile. “No, not at all love. Just going over some new intel before the others wake up.” Price stands in front of you, and you get the feeling he's purposely blocking your view.

 

You raise an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “I was going to make breakfast, but if you need me to fuck off I can c-”

 

“Don't mind us, hermana. Wouldn't want to miss out on some decent food around here.” Alejandro has his hands behind his back as he steps next to Price, grinning politely.

 

You can't help but laugh. “I can always teach your men a thing or two. Some of you show some promise. Others… well, shove it down your gullet like a bird and hope you don't actually taste anything?”

 

“We'll stick to letting you take care of us for as long as we have you.” Rudy calls out, assumingly still looking at whatever they were going over before you walked into the room.

 

“Good call, Rudester!” You snicker hearing him question the nickname, and bite back a laugh when Price says to just accept it. You start going through the kitchen, going through cupboards and deciding what you should make for them. Something with a lot of protein. You also start some coffee and tea for good measure, since more will be waking up soon.

 

At some point others start filing in. Simon is the first, stopping in the kitchen doorway to look in on you. “Didn't expect you to be up already, Dove.”

 

You shrug while getting a tea ready for him. “Felt like it was gonna be a busy day, figured the least I can do is feed the lot of you.”

 

“Hmm. Can't say no to being spoilt.” Simon adjusts his mask some, staying close by until his tea is finished and you hand it off to him.

 

“Hard not to spoil you boys while I can.” You smile at him before going back to cooking.

 

Kyle is next to show up, looking dead tired still as he tries to hide a yawn. “How's our little miss today?”

 

“So far so good.” You hand Gaz a coffee, which he graciously takes.

 

“I knew you loved me the most.” He takes a few gulps, and you top him off when he's done.

 

“Ehhh, tolerate you more than most?” You grin as he shakes his head, playfully hitting you in the arm.

 

“I'll take it. Where's Soap at? Slacking off like always?”

 

“Watch yerself, Gaz. Kick ye in the arse for poppin’ off to ye're sergeant.” Johnny is the last straggler into the kitchen, patting Kyle on the back.

 

“I'm your sergeant too, ya numpty.” Gaz retorts.

 

“Your leiutenant says to sod off, the both of you.” Simon chimes in, leaning against the counter as he drinks his tea so he can keep his mask flipped up.

 

“Yes, L.T.” Johnny comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while laying his head on your shoulder tiredly. “Go’ ou’ of bed before I could give ye a proper ‘good mornin’’, hen.”

 

You chuckle. “Sorry doll face, had to if you boys were gonna have a chance to eat this morning.”

 

“‘Doll face’? Ye're the doll face 'round here, ye filthy minx.” Soap tilts and nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

 

“Let the woman cook, Soap.” Price tries to reprimand Johnny, who only snuggles closer against you.

 

“Bet'er be nice to my wife, old man.”

 

“Be nice to your captain, Johnathan.”

 

You hear chuckles from the others, smiling to yourself while Johnny whispers to you. “Ye'll pay for tha’ one la'er, lass.”

 

“Counting on it.” You whisper back, bouncing your hip off of him and returning to a normal voice. “I'll be done here soon, get some caffeine in you.”

 

Johnny kisses your cheek before finally releasing you, heading out of the kitchen and towards the others. You get another tea ready for Simon, taking his mug and replacing it with a new one just when he finishes his last sip. “Something to drink with breakfast.”

 

“Too good to me, Dovey.”

 

“Someone has to be.” You smile at him before returning to finishing up everything.

 

Ghost pulls his mask down, kissing the side of your head before joining the others. Not long after you are piling things onto plates and setting them on the table for everyone, letting them take care of the rest. Heading back into the kitchen, you fill up a few mugs with what's left of the coffee and start another pot, and have a different version of breakfast that can be eaten on the go that you pile onto a different plate before taking it outside.

 

As you are opening the door you almost run right into Private Sanders.

 

“Oh, sorry Mrs MacTavish. Let me help you with that, you really shouldn't be doing so much.” He takes the mugs from you at least and holds the door with his foot to let you step outside.

 

“Oh please, it's the least I can do, Private. One of those mugs is yours, but could you please set the rest on the steps for me? One of these is for you, too.”

 

He does just as you ask, and you hand him his own breakfast before grabbing another and a mug, heading off to one of the patrols and handing their breakfast off to them, repeating until everything is gone.

 

You head back inside, finally eating something yourself before cleaning up the mess you made. Laswell's voice fills the other room at one point, sounding her usual serious self. You don't pay attention to anything she says though.

 

You aren't quite done when you hear Johnny's footsteps coming into the kitchen. “Leave tha’, need ye to pack ye're things.”

 

Uh oh. Soap mode.

 

“Everything ok?” You abandon the dishes and dry your hands, following him into your shared room. Not that you have to pack away much of anything, you know to keep as much as possible in your bag.

 

“Headin’ ou’. Takin’ ye back to base, then we're on the move.”

 

“Rog.” You grab what you need to from the bathroom and shove it into your duffle bag, stopping a moment to watch Johnny. It's obvious he's pissed. So much so he won't even glance at you.

 

“Johnny?”

 

“Wha?”

 

Whoa.

 

“Nuh uh, hey. Look at me.” You go to his side, grabbing his arm and squeezing gently. “Cool your tits and talk to me.”

 

“Ye hear’ wha’ I said, hen. Taking ye to base. Movin’ ou’.”

 

Ah. I see.

 

You squeeze his arm harder and grab his face, making him turn his head and look at you. “Hey. We were here because you needed to heal. You've done that. Now you gotta go after the bad guys again. You have to stay calm, and you have to stay focused. Safest place for me is at base. Right?”

 

Johnny softens a bit, deflating even as he stares into your eyes, giving you a very slight nod.

 

“Ok. Then that's where I'll be until you get back to me.” You lightly stroke his cheek, and he closes his eyes while leaning into it, letting out a sigh.

 

“Voice of reason. As always, m'girl.”

 

“Careful, I'll make it another argument towards your retirement. Then the only time you have to worry about leaving me is going to the grocery store.”

 

He half smiles before opening his eyes to look at you. “Fuck tha’, I'll jus’ take ye with me.”

 

“Just furthering my argument, Bubbles.” You move your hand to the collar of his tac vest, pulling him down and kissing him softly.

 

“Thank ye.” He kisses you this time, standing and cracking his neck from side to side. “Alrigh’. Pack and let's get ye moved out, aye?”

 

“Aye.”

 

---

 

 

The next couple hours become a blur.

 

After everyone is packed up, you're whisked off to the underground garage and put into a vehicle. Johnny has you sitting in the middle this time, of course. Ghost is on the opposite side of you. Rudy drives, Al is the passenger princess. Which you don't dare say out loud, no matter how much it pains you.

 

Johnny mostly keeps his attention outside of the vehicle. You figure it's to make up for last time when he was in the middle instead of you. His hand is wrapped around yours and being held to his chest. You lightly caress the back of his hand with your thumb. Letting him know you are right there.

 

Ghost is keeping his attention the same, though being more comfortable with everything, he looks down at you now and then. Around the fourth time you notice him looking at you, you look back at him. The two of you stare quietly. Saying nothing at all, but somehow saying everything. You hold your free hand out to him, wiggling your fingers. Simon gives you an eye roll and looks back out his window. But after a brief moment he takes your hand into his. Offering a reassuring squeeze every now and then. And you offer one back.

 

After you reach the base, Johnny quickly exits and helps you out of the vehicle, grabbing your hand and holding on tightly. “Al said he'd set you up in private quarters while I'm away. Gives ye a locked door so ye have privacy.”

 

You nod, following him around the back to grab your bag, but Johnny beats you to it, taking his own with it. “I'm not an invalid, dearest.”

 

“No ye're no’, bu’ ye're my wife, so I do all the heavy lifting for ye, and ye just smile and le’ me.”

 

“Wanna carry me while you're at it? Give me the full princess treatment?”

 

Johnny looks down at you and grins, giving you a wink. “Don’ tempt me, hen.”

 

You grin back, leaning up onto your tippy toes and kissing him just as a distraction to pull your bag off his arm, quickly tossing it over yourself to keep him from taking it back instantly.

 

“Oh no, looks like I have to carry my own bag now!” You keep out of Johnny's reach when he tries to get it back from you.

 

You try to evade Johnny once more, but he grabs the strap of your bag and pulls you to him, grinning ear to ear as you laugh and try to get away again.

 

“Ye done bein’ a brat, swee'hear?”

 

“That depends, what happens if I'm not done yet?” You grin up at him again.

 

“Ye'll find ou’ the minute I ge’ back here.” Soap untangles you from your bag, hoisting it up over his shoulder.

 

“Promise?”

 

“Soap! Need to move out soon, hermano!” Alejandro yells in your direction.

 

Johnny grabs your hand and leads the way to where you'll be staying, dropping your bag off onto the bed, then setting his down before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you, your arms automatically going around his neck and your legs wrapping around him, foreheads resting together.

 

“You'll be back before you know it, babes.”

 

“Should be me bein’ the one consolin’ ye instead.”

 

“Eh, you need the pep talks sometimes. And when you get back, you get to show me how much you missed me.”

 

“Second my boots hit the ground, ye're in for a world of trouble.” Johnny flashes you that wonderful grin of his, and you can't help feeling a little sad.  

 

Johnny's face falls, frowning. “I say somethin’ wrong?” 

 

You quickly shake your head. “No, babes. Just… Really, really gonna miss your face.”

 

Johnny sighs, sitting on the cot in the room while keeping you on his lap. “Could say the same abou’ ye'res, swee'hear’.”

 

“Fuck… I did it again. Need to put some duct tape on my mouth so I don't say something really stupid.”

 

“Oi! Wasn’ stupid. Already told ye, hen. Feelin's matter.”

 

You hug him tightly, running your fingers through his mohawk and kissing the side of his head. “Just come home. Bonus points if you finally get the fucking prick.”

 

“Gonna take a hell of a lo’ to keep me from ye, m'girl.”

 

“Good.” You slowly release yourself from Johnny and slide down him until your feet hit the floor. Taking his hand after he picks his bag up again, you walk him back out towards the others, who are currently loading into a chopper.

 

“Soap! Soap's wife! Good to see you again, my friends!” Someone shouted at you as the pair of you got closer. The voice sounded familiar, but you couldn't place their face.

 

“Nice to see ye too, Nik.” Johnny squeezes your hand.

 

Nik… Oh, Nikolai. From the chopper. ‘Soap's wife’, duuuh.

 

“Love to put a name to the face. Good to see you, Nikolai.” You smile politely.

 

Nik opens his arms wide while coming to you, grabbing you into a bear hug and lifting you off of your feet. When he sets you down, he places his hands on your shoulders, looking you over. “Now I understand why Soap married you. Tell me. How much did Soap have to beg before you finally agreed to marry him?”

 

You laugh, and Johnny is pushing Nikolai off of you to wrap his arms around you protectively. “Don’ answer tha’, m'girl.”

 

“Wouldn't dream of it, darling.” You grin up at Johnny, then turn back to Nik, placing a hand up to hide your lips but whispering loudly. “A lot.”

 

Nik bellows out a laugh, hands on his hips. “I like her already.”

 

“Nik, go ready the chopper, will ya?” Price stands beside Nikolai, patting him on the shoulder. Nik walks towards the helicopter while shouting something in Russian.

 

“Captain, I wan’ Private Sanders to stay behind. Have him set up to be in close proximity to the lass at all times.”

 

“Done. Anything else?” Price looks to you, and you shake your head.

 

“Nothing I can think of.”

 

“Good on you then, love.” Price gives you a quick hug, and you pat him on the back. When he leaves, he calls out to Sanders, you assume to give him a rundown of his new orders.

 

You then follow Johnny towards the chopper, where Simon is barking some orders to a few others. Gaz is just finishing up loading gear when he sees you. He quickly comes over and pulls you into a hug.

 

“I'm gonna be fine, Gazatron. Remind Johnny of that too, will ya?”

 

“Anything for our little miss.”

 

You give Gaz a tighter squeeze before both of you let go. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you that Price is leaving Sanders in charge of me?”

 

“Loads. Least you'll know someone around here.”

 

“Can thank me for tha’.” Johnny almost beams.

 

“Thank you for what?” Simon comes over by you now.

 

“Sanders. Johnny asked Price if he could be with me while you boys are gone, and he agreed.” You tell Ghost.

 

“Good. Won't feel too bad about leaving you behind, then.”

 

“Oh please. Like you feel bad about anything.” You smile up at Ghost, who rolls his eyes before giving you a side hug. You turn and give him a full hug. He may not want to ruin his reputation in front of others, but he's not leaving before you give him a proper hug, damnit.

 

You finally let the masked man go, and he nods at you, with you giving a nod in return. Ghost turns and heads back to the others, immediately barking orders like nothing just happened. You can't help but smile.

 

Johnny takes your hand again, making you look at him. Stepping in front of you he takes your other hand, kissing each of your fingers before holding them to his chest. You grip tightly onto his task vest, biting your lip hard enough you almost draw blood. Fighting back tears while getting lost in those stunning blue eyes of his. He starts rubbing the back of your hand.

 

Fuck… I don't want you to go, Johnny.

 

“I know, my swee’ girl.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I know ye don’ wan’ me to go. Truth be told, I don’ wanna leave, either.”

 

You tilt your head, squinting at him.

 

How'd you know that's what I was thinking, Bubbles?

 

“You have a very expressive face, swee'hear’. You're one tha’ will stay quiet, but your face says everything ye're lips won’. Gettin’ bet'er at payin’ attention.”

 

You smile up at him, tugging him by his task vest and kissing him, his hands are on the back of your head, holding you in place so he can keep kissing you.

 

Johnny finally leans back, staring into your eyes. “'Be safe'. I know, m'girl.  I will be.”

 

“And yet, you keep finding ways to get hurt. I'm allowed to worry about you, because I love you.”

 

“Love ye too, swee'hear’. More than ye know.”

 

“I think I have a decent idea.”

 

One final goodbye kiss, and Johnny quickly makes his way to the helicopter.

 

Your left standing there, slowly walking backwards, biting the inside of your cheek until you start getting a metallic taste, wrapping your arms across yourself. Not wanting to blink until they take off, but also wanting to run back to your room and lock yourself in for a few days.

 

“They'll be alright, Miss. They're so close at getting the target.” You jump at the voice, tilting your head to see Sanders standing next to you.

 

“Am I gonna have to put a bell on you, Private? Can't just sneak up on me, might give me a heart attack.” You place a hand on your chest, taking in a few slow breaths to try to calm yourself, but give ip as soon as the chopper lifts from the ground.

 

“Sorry, Miss. Didn't mean to startle. All this can't be good for you.”

 

“If anyone ever tells you that watching the person you love go running off into danger is a ‘good’ thing, they're a fucking liar, Sanders.”

 

You turn and start going off to your room, keeping a slow pace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 62: Bygones... Again

Notes:

Hello you wonderful humans!

I hope your holidays went as well as you expected.

And if they didn't, I'm sorry. I know just as well as anyone how this can be a really shitty time of year.

Maybe this will cheer you up?

Enjoy!

 

 

Uncomfortable.

 

That's probably the best word to describe how you've been feeling since you got here.

 

It started after the boys left, and when you went to your room. Locking yourself inside, sitting on the floor, in the corner of the tiny little room, and trying to keep the sobs from getting too loud.

 

Sanders came to check on you, of course. You told him to go off and do some training or something. You weren't coming out for a while. He voiced his concern, worried about how upset you were and it's not healthy for you in your current situation.

 

You almost threw open the door and rage screamed at him about how he didn't know a fucking thing about your situation. The four men you love and care about are trying to find a fucking terrorist that has a target on everyone in the 141 and anyone that's close to them.

 

That was a couple days ago. You've calmed down considerably. You tried to make it up to Sanders by sharing your meals with him when you were up to actually eating again. He resisted at first, trying to encourage you to eat more. You eventually had to give him a stubborn look before he caved.

 

But the uncomfortable feeling persisted.

 

You thought you'd feel safer here. You'd been taken back to Al and Rudy's base. Apparently this was where you were as ‘Runt’, as you had recognized you were in the same wing where you had stayed when you were last here. You had even been put into the room Ghost had stayed in. Apparently someone didn't clean it out as thoroughly as they thought. After some snooping around, you found a couple of Simon's knives that'd been left behind. It somehow brought you some comfort.

 

Alejandro and Rudy arrived back the next day. No sign of any member of the 141. Which almost sent you into a panic. Rudy sought you out immediately, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “Everyone is fine. Everyone is safe. Alejandro and I came back to round reinforcement.”

 

Reinforcement?

 

You kept looking to Rudy, his face not really showing much emotion. You didn't have much choice. But you did choose to believe him. Giving a small nod. “Thanks for that, Rudester.”

 

He chuckled as he released you. “That is the nickname you are sticking with?”

 

“For now. It could be a lot worse. Ask the boys.”

 

Alejandro has now made his way to you after speaking to his men, nodding politely. “Soap made us promise to let you know right away they were ok. Ghost threatened us if we didn't.” Rudy tells you. You can't help but let out a little laugh and shake your head.

 

“Oh course he did. Don't take him too seriously. He's a big teddy bear if you get to know him.”

 

“Take your word on that.” Al smiles.

 

Just then, a convoy of vehicles start rolling through the base. People give them a wide berth to give them the room they need. Private Sanders moves closer to you. The unknown presence of the newcomers must have made him feel uneasy, just the same as you.

 

Doors opened, soldiers poured out of vehicles, lots of shouting. A language you weren't sure you recognized at all. Eventually, a woman and a man walk towards your little group.

 

“Convoy set to move out once the other unit arrives.” The woman states. She barely gives you a glance as she addresses Al and Rudy.

 

“Perfecto! Captain Price thanks the both of you for this.”

 

“Whatever Price needs. Ready to get this asshole and finish this. Way too out of hand for far too long.” The man says to the others, before turning his attention to you. “And who might you be, miss?”

 

Before you can answer, Alejandro claps him on the back. “No worries on this one, hermano. This is Soap's wife! Mrs MacTavish, this here is Alex. And over there is our Farah. Called in personally by Captain Price.”

 

Reinforcement. Makes sense now.

 

You shake hands with each of them, exchanging pleasantries. “Nice meeting the both of you.”

 

“I'd heard Soap was married. Thought someone was yanking my chain.” Alex smiles, and you laugh awkwardly.

 

“Yeah, that's been the general reaction by pretty much everyone. You can ask Johnny about it all when you see him next, he explains it better than me.” You smile.

 

“I look forward to hearing it.” Farah smiles at you.  

 

You all turn towards the roaring engines of another unit rolling in. You frown as you watch, feeling slightly unsettled, but remind yourself it's all for the good.

 

Until they start climbing out of the vehicles. And the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

 

Those uniforms. Why do they look… familiar?

 

As if on cue, another vehicle door opens and it's inhabitant plants it's feet to the ground. When the door shuts, your stomach drops.

 

There, standing not far from you, oblivious to your presence…

 

Is Commander Philip Fucking Graves.

 

“You have got to be shitting me.” You say in a low voice.  

 

Alejandro moves to your side, keeping his voice just as low. “We don't have a choice here. I don't trust the pendejo either. But if he can help us get Makarov, we all benefit.”

 

“He just better stay away for me, or he'll have more than a crooked nose this time.” You say as you step back further, getting behind Sanders a bit and trying to blend into the background.  Alejandro and Rodolfo both chuckle.

 

“Hola, Amigos.” Graves says as he approaches. You can't help but roll your eyes. Then again, just him alive and breathing is enough to annoy the piss out of you, so everything he does will infuriate you.

 

“Graves.” Alejandro acknowledges him. You feel bad for them. After all the bullshit this dicknut put them through, and they have to put that aside and play nice. Constantly watching out for themselves and each other in case Graves decides to betray them again.  

 

Graves stops about six feet from them, putting his hands on his hips and sighing, shaking his head.  

 

Oh, he's going for humble isn't he?

 

“Look. Fellas. I know we've had our differences in the past. But can we just let bygones be bygones so we can move past this and work together? We share a common goal, here.”

 

This dumbshit really used his ‘bygones’ bit again? Like he did with the boys? Fuck this guy…

 

You shake your head, seething with rage.

 

“This is a joint operation. Los Vaqueros has joined us with 141 and the Shadows. The more on our side, the quicker we can get to Makarov.” Farah interjects. She has a point. Doesn't mean you have to agree with it.

 

“Exactly. Joint OPs. We head out shortly, meet up with Captain Price and the rest of 141. Cover them from the air while they're on the ground. Any questions?” You don't even have to see Graves’ face. You can hear the smugness dripping from his voice. You grind your teeth to keep from saying anything or making a noise.

 

Private Sanders places a hand on your shoulder, leaning down and whispering. “We don't like it either, Miss. But we have to try to stay united for now.”

 

You sigh heavily, almost growling. But you nod in agreement.

 

“Somethin’ you'd like to share, Sanders?” Graves asks. You hope he hasn't noticed you yet. Judging by the lack of snarky comments, you guess he hasn't.

 

“No sir! Just reassuring the Missus, sir!” Sanders snapped at attention.

 

You fucking idgit…

 

“What ‘missus’, Private?” You hear Graves take a few steps closer.

 

Fuck it. Guess I have to open the bag more and release the cat.

 

You turn, slowly, stepping around Sanders and standing in front of him. Head held high, trying to not show too much emotion. You can't help but wish you could shoot lasers from your eyeballs, like Superman or Cyclops. Take him out in one fell swoop.

 

The look of surprise is brief, and then Graves’ has a shit eating grin on his face. “Well well well, if it isn't the lovely Mrs MacTavish! Long time no see, darlin’.”

 

Gross.

 

“Graves.” You keep your eyes on him, crossing your arms over your chest while staring him down.

 

“We have quite a bit to catch up on, now don't we? Why don't the rest of you go and get pre-check finished. You too, Sanders. Help them out. And the lovely Mrs MacTavish can have a little-”

 

“If you think I'm going to let you get anywhere near me, you need to have your head examined, Graves.” You glare at him, eyes darkening.

 

Phil's mouth opens slightly as he presses a fist against his chest. “Ya know, that hurts me deep to hear you say that. Real deep. You and I can surely speak civil to one another for a few minutes by ourselves.”

 

You moves your eyes slightly, staring at his nose, then shift your gaze back to his. “Past instances say otherwise.”

 

You see Graves try so hard to remain calm and reasonable, but his eyes give him away. The way he's trying to intimidate you by staring you down. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

 

“We need to get ready and move out! Graves, get your men situated.” Alejandro stands in front of Phil, blocking his view of you.  

 

You nudge Sanders and tilt your head before turning away, taking the opportunity to get the hell out by heading towards your barracks.

 

“Sorry. I didn't even think about what it meant to say anything about you standing there. Especially after that time you took him out for messing with you.” Sanders gets ahead of you to open the door and hold it for you.

 

“That wasn't anything but a happy accident, really. He had his hand on me and wouldn't let go. I surprised him by turning and popping him in the face.” You enter through the door, slowly making your way back to your room.  

 

“Why does he want to talk to you so badly, Miss?”

 

“I don't even know. Some obsession with me because of my ties with all of the 141? He thinks I'm naive and got with Johnny knowing nothing about him? Revenge for my husband trying to kill him, even though Graves went after him and Ghost first? Way too many possibilities. And I'm not interested in finding out which scenario is correct.”

 

“Would you like me to try to find out?”

 

You stop walking, contemplating Sanders’ offer. Spying on Graves, trying to gain access to that sick and twisted brain of his does sound tempting. But…

 

“No. I don't want you to end up in some dick measuring contest with the Shadows and have some target put on you over it. With any luck, someone will merc Graves and take care of him for all of us and we don't have to worry about the slimy son of a bitch ever again.”

 

Sanders does laugh a little before clearing his throat. “Probably not the best idea to say that too loudly in case the wrong person hears.”

 

“You might be right. For the moment, we should lay low for a while. Stay away from the airfield, let the excitement die down. Not sure when they leave, but hopefully it's soon.”

 

“Sounds reasonable enough to me, Miss. What do you plan on doing in the meantime?”

 

You finally get to your room, pulling your keys from your bra and working the lock open. Once you have the door open, you stand there silent, trying to think. “Do you have any rapport with the soldiers stationed here? The ones that call this place home, I mean.”

 

“Gaining some. Why do you ask?”

 

“I was thinking that maybe you could see what kind of consoles anyone has around here? I haven't played any games in ages, and I have a hankering to do something. Maybe if you get enough people involved we could kick each other's asses in Fortnite?”

 

Sanders stays quiet before smiling. “Not a bad idea, actually. I'll see what I can come up with. You go rest, I'll come get you before supper.”

 

You thank him, then retreat into your room, locking the door behind you.

 

You probably won't sleep. It's hard sleeping when you are so used to being in bed with someone. And that someone just happens to be a large Scottish man who wraps his arms around you, making you feel safe.

 

You end up falling face down onto your cot, trying to block out most of the world right now. You end up falling asleep, but not for nearly as long as you'd hoped.

 

Didn't help that you had a terrible nightmare.

 

A nightmare you've had a couple days in a row now.

 

A nightmare with you, standing in a meadow, not knowing where you were or how you got there.

 

A nightmare where five headstones are in front of you. Haunting you.

 

A nightmare where one headstone has your name engraved on it, and the others are blank.

 

A nightmare where right below your headstone is a hole about six feet deep, with whispers in the wind calling out your name.

 

Beckoning you closer to the grave.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

........ok, maybe this won't cheer you up all that much. 😅

Be beautiful, be handsome, be kind, and be awesome.

I sincerely appreciate every single one of you.

Chapter 63: Welcome Back

There you are.  

 

Standing in the meadow again.  

 

In front of the headstones.

 

All of them blank.  

 

Except one.

 

Yours.

 

It has your maiden name.

 

Your date of birth.

 

Your date of death is just a question mark.

 

The wind picks up a little, blowing the grass around you.  Whipping through your hair.  Only now you notice you have on nice clothes.

 

The nicest you have ever worn.

 

You can tell it's your favorite color.  The details of the rest are so fuzzy.

 

You hear whispers all around you.  Calling your name.

 

You think you recognize a couple here and there.  People you have lost in your life.

 

Begging you to join them.

 

Promising everything will be better when you go with them.

 

Haunting you.

 

You end up taking a step closer to your grave.  And then another.

 

You just want to look down into it.

 

You just want to see if there's anything inside.

 

Or anyone.

 

And then you…

---

 

 

You wake up in a panic, breathing heavily with your heart trying to pound its way out of your chest.

 

It's only when there's a loud knock on the door do you realize that must be what woke you up in the first place.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“ Private Sanders, Miss.  You didn't make it down to breakfast this morning, so I'm making sure you make it to lunch .”

 

“Thank you Sanders, but I'm not hungry.”

 

“Sorry Miss, but I'm under orders from the 141 that you aren't allowed to skip more than a meal a day.  Actually, it was suggested you were to be force fed and not miss any meals.”

 

You finally peel yourself out of your cot, stepping to the door and opening it.  “Who gave you the orders?”

 

“Your husband said you shouldn't skip more than one.  Lieutenant Riley thinks you should be force fed.  By feeding tube, if necessary.”

 

You rolled your eyes, bringing your hands up and rubbing at your face with a groan.  “Of course he did.  Lieutenant Overkill.”

 

“Not wrong there.  Do you need a few minutes?  It just started, so if you have to freshen up any you still have time.”

 

Freshen up…  when was the last time I showered?

 

“I guess that's not a bad idea.  Alright alright, give me twenty minutes.”  You groan.  You shut your door and lock it, spending less than ten of those minutes in the shower, and a few more to get dressed and half ass dry your hair.

 

Hair still mostly wet, wearing a shirt under one of Johnny's hoodie with a pair of leggings and sneakers, you grab your keys and your phone, but stop before you can make it to the door. 

 

You go over to the drawer by your bed, opening it and taking out one of Ghost's knives you’d found.  It was a fairly smaller knife, the hilt the most hefty part of it.  The blade itself was incredibly sharp.  Of course it was.  It was Simon's.  He wasn't going to have a subpar knife around.

 

You grab a hand towel, wrapping it around the knife before slipping it down the back of your pants.  Slightly safer than just having a bare knife by your ass, you figure.  For now, anyway.  You then make sure the hoodie covers everything.

 

You finally open your door and greet Sanders in the hallway.

 

“Are you feeling alright, Mrs MacTavish?”

 

You pause for a moment.  You didn't even bother looking at yourself in a mirror, and you really don't care to pull your phone out to look.  But if he's making a comment, you obviously look like hell.

 

“Not exactly.  But we're ignoring that.”  You start walking the hallway towards the mess hall.

 

“I don't think I can, miss.  I have very strict instructions on your wellbeing.”

 

You exhale heavily, stopping in your tracks to turn and face him.  “I am going to try to be reasonable.  Key word is try .  They can give out orders all they want, it's up to me to follow.  And right now, I lack all the fucks.  So when they get back, they will get an earful from me.  That is on them, though.”

 

Sanders nods slowly as he looks down on you.  “I'll do my best.  I suppose in your current situation, you get to call the shots here.”

 

You start walking again, Sanders trailing close behind.  At the mess hall, you can't help but notice there's a lot more soldiers than usual.

 

“Why are there so many Shadows around?  Thought they were out on the mission.”  You ask, selecting only a few things to eat before making your way to a table.  Far in the back, in a corner, so you can keep your eyes on everyone.  Just like when you were home.

 

“They were.  They're just waiting for the next phase.  Refueling, reloading.”

 

“Greeeeeat.”  Annoyed, you at least start eating a banana from your tray.  Tearing off small pieces and popping them into your mouth.  Last thing you needed was someone snapping a pic of you going down on a banana.

 

“You really need to eat more, Mrs MacTavish.”  Sanders tells you with concern laced into his voice.

 

“Dude.  Drop it.”  You pop the last bit of banana into your mouth, chewing slowly.

 

“Sorry.  Hard to shut it off.  Knowing you're…  in a certain… Just having the entirety of the 141 breathing down your neck is intimidating.”  Sanders turns his attention back to his own tray, clearing his throat awkwaedly.  “So some of the guys are wondering if they could have a rematch?”  Sanders finally picked up a fork and started eating himself.

 

“Rematch for what?  Last time we played with them, I got my ass beat.”

 

“I think that's exactly why they want a rematch.”

 

“I'm just a little rusty.  Once I get my groove back, they'll regret everything.”  You joke as you pick the muffin up from your tray.

 

“You used to play a lot?”

 

“Yeah, me and the boys.  Sometimes we'd find a game and co-op.  We all had our own consoles too, so sometimes we'd go against each other and beat each other's asses.  Or they'd play something amongst themselves, and I'd watch.”

 

“How'd you meet them?”  Sanders asks before shoving another forkfull into his mouth.

 

“I met Johnny the first day I was moving into my apartment.  He didn't think I should carry.all my stuff in by myself, and just started helping. Eventually met the others and it all just fell into place.”  You tore off the paper from your muffin as you spoke, finally biting into it when you were done.

 

“That's it?  They just… saw you, and took you in?”  Sanders frowns, not looking at you.

 

You stop playing with your muffin, staring at him.  “Why are you so interested?”

 

The Private looks flustered, finally looking at you.  “I uh… I was just curious.  That's all.”

 

You take note of his behavior, eyeing him up and down.  “I see.”  You go back to picking over your muffin.

 

“Sooo…”

 

“Rematch later should be fine.”  You decide to end the questioning.  Smiling to diffuse the situation.”

 

“Right.  Rematch.  I'll let them know.”  He nods a few times, letting the conversation die out.  You enjoy the silence while it lasts.

 

Unfortunately it doesn't last long.

 

Graves has made his way into the hall, clapping his hands.  “Soldiers!  At zero hundred hours, we move on to phase two of our operations.  Meet on the airfield by twenty-two hundred for further instructions, yeah?”

 

A resounding ‘ yup yup ’ came from the Shadows, and you ask Sanders in a quieter voice, “That's their callback?  ‘Yup yup?’”

 

Sanders nods at you.  “That's what they went with.”

 

“Just sounds odd to me.  But I'm used to the boys talking back and forth, I suppose.  ‘Rog’, or ‘Solid Copy’, and ‘Aye’.  I'm biased though, I like theirs better.”

 

You go back to looking at your tray, not very interested in anything else on it.  But, to appease Sanders, you grab the apple you scrounge up and bite into it.  It wasn't half bad, whatever kind it was.  “Has my quota been met?”

 

The Private chuckles.  “I can safely say I have seen you eat, so I think you're good.”

 

“Thank the gods.”  You chomp on the apple again, leaning back in your chair as you scan the mess hall.  You find Graves standing with his back towards you, in conversation with some of his Shadows.  For the time being, he hadn't seemed to notice you.

 

“Can we bail?”  You stand up.

 

Sanders nods, standing and taking your tray.  “Maybe we should get you a uniform.  Civies make you stand out.”

 

He's got a point.

 

You follow Sanders up to the front, waiting off to the side when he goes to deposit the trays.  Almost as soon as Sanders leaves your side, Graves is right there, smiling wide.  “Fancy seeing you here, little lady.”

 

You can't help the shivering cringe that rolls through your body when hearing his voice, closing your eyes and biting down the urge to rip his face off.  When you finally open them, you look up at him.

 

“What.  Do you.  Want ?”

 

“Well… for starters.”  Graves moves and stands in front of you, but takes a step back.  “I'd like to apologize to you.”

 

Yeah right.

 

“Apologize?  To me?”  You cross your arms over your chest, watching him closely.

 

“I didn't exactly make a great first impression on you.”

 

You stare at him, blinking slowly.  Waiting for him to continue.  You face devoid of any emotion.  Sanders had made his way back to you and was standing awkwardly, not sure how to approach the issue.  You pointed at a chair nearby for him to sit.  He’s far enough away to help if Graves pulls some shit, but to also keep the conversation between you and Graves.

 

“And… for getting in your face in the training center.  Before you, ya know.”  He gestured with his hands of how I punched him, keeping his arms well within his own personal space.

 

Why is he kissing my ass…

 

“Mmhmm.”  You keep your face neutral.  Waiting for him.

 

Graves lets out his fake little half chuckle.  “You ain't gonna apologize to me for anything, are ya?”

 

“Maybe if the Vikings ever make it to the Super Bowl.  So don't count on it.”

 

He studies your face, his eyes darkening.  “Ya know, I uh…. I took another look into your file.  Lots of interesting things in there.  Except, I couldn't for the life of me find a marriage certificate for you and MacTavish.  In fact, no one could find one.”

 

You tilt your head slightly.

 

“Well that leads to the bigger question then, doesn't it?”

 

“Stop fucking dragging this out like an asshole and spit it the fuck out already.”

 

“You and MacTavish aren't even married.  Are you?”

 

You close your eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath, and letting it out slowly.  It does little to calm your nerves.  You open your eyes again.  “For all intents and purposes, yes.  Johnny is my husband.”

 

“Except he isn't.”

 

“Not that that stops us from doing anything and everything a married couple does.”  

 

Graves face hardens.  

 

Is this fucking idiot jealous?

 

“Why the act?”  Graves leans back a little, studying you.

 

“You said you'd read the report.  Why do you think?”

 

“It doesn't make sense to me.  Tryin’ to get your perspective.”  He scratches the stubble on his cheek.  You'd love to scratch it for him.  With a sledgehammer.

 

“Makarov thinks I'm Soap's wife.  Makarov also thinks Johnny's dead.  So, we let him think that.  Whatever fuels his anger the most.”

 

“None of that bothers you?”

 

You make me want to punch you again.  Then again you opening your mouth has that effect on me.

 

“No.  What bothers me is that with all the safety nets and precautions and all the other shit the military does to protect the lives of loved ones went out the fucking window the moment Makarov even knew I even existed.  That should bother you , the General, and every single person in the military”

 

Graves looks confused.  That poor braincell of his working overtime.  “Why?”

 

“Are you trying to be dumb, or does it come naturally for you?”  You try not to laugh at the way his face shifts.  At least you can get under his skin just as much as he gets under yours.

 

You lean over and cross your arms as you lay them on the table, speaking quietly.  “If you were smart?  It should fucking terrify you.  If you were smart , you would be going to your own unit, Mister Commander, and making god damn sure that your systems are where they should be.  Because the same thing could happen to your men.  And it 

could happen.  To.  You .”

 

Graves scoffs and chuckles.  “That'd never happen with my unit.”

 

That just pisses you off more.  He wants to be so damn flippant about this whole thing?

 

Alright, fuckstick.  Let's see how much this hurts.

 

“How's your mama doing, Graves?  She still cozy at home?”

 

If looks could kill, you'd be a dead woman ten times over.  Twenty if he was up for it.  “The fuck do you know anything about my mother, sister?”

 

You lean back.  “Not a damn thing, Phil.  Complete shot in the dark.  But you think about that.  What would happen to your mama if anyone thought to look at your family?  One day, you get a call, and Makarov has a gun to her head to get to you. Think about it long and hard.  And maybe, just maybe , you'll understand a thing or two of what the fuck I've been through this entire fucking time.”

 

Graves sits there, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, trying to get something on you.  He looks like he wants to say something to you.  He looks like he could rip your throat out, too.  Instead, he abruptly stands and kicks his chair back, hands in fist as he walks quickly out of the mess hall.

 

Fucking prick.

 

Sanders finally gets to your side, crouching next to you.  “What was that about?”

 

You sigh, putting your elbows on the table while rubbing your hands up and down your face.  “He tried getting under my skin.  I got under his, instead.”

 

“Think you got under his a little too deep, Miss.”

 

“Good.  He needs to be knocked down a few pegs.”  You drop your hands from your face, pushing your chair out and standing.  Sanders stands with you, waiting for you to walk ahead of him before he follows.

 

“Still feeling up to meeting with the guys later?”  He asks finally when you get away from the mess hall.

 

“Might do me some good.  Shooting in a game seems like a better outlet.  Just drop me off at my room for now.  Need to get my blood pressure to drop a little after dealing with Graves.”

---

 

 

Once in your room, you lock the door as tight as you can, sighing heavily as you think your forehead against the wood.

 

Asshole Graves can't get out of here fast enough so I can be left in peace.

 

Stepping away from the door you sit on your bed, hating the fact that yet again you are stuck in a fucked up game of hide and seek with Philip Fucking Graves.

 

You groan, putting your elbows onto your thighs and leaning forward, lacing your fingers together and placing them behind your neck.

 

At least he's leaving tonight.  Hopefully the prick has to stay away a lot longer than that.  Maybe I should take Sanders up on his idea and…

 

Wait…

 

WAIT…

 

Sitting up quickly, you take out your phone and send a message to Laswell, telling the details of your plan.  Telling her to let the boys know, but only when they are on their way back.  Also giving her the heads up about Graves, since it seems she isn't aware that he's where you are.  That he's already ambushed you one too many times as it is and you'd like to avoid more.

 

You out your phone on silent, and set it off to the side. 

 

Scrambling off of your bed, sliding on your knees to get to the chest on the floor.  Flinging it open you dig inside, pulling out items as you come across them.

 

Sunglasses.

 

Face mask.

 

Helmet.

 

Boots.

 

Fatigues.

 

Standing, you shake the fatigues out a bit.

 

A wrinkled mess.  But it'll have to do.

 

Welcome back… Runt.

Notes:

Oh yeah.

Runt is back on the menu!

Chapter 64: (Not dead, just moving)

 

 

 

I haven't forgot about you, lovelies.

 

Going through some life things.  Mainly selling off my childhood home and all the stress that goes along with it, all while also moving into a new place.

 

Everyine is safe and healthy.  Just need some time to adjust and deal with the new life chapters ahead.

 

Once those start to settle, we'll all be back.  💜🧼👻⛽💰