Chapter Text
There is something not right about John “Soap” MacTavish
Not in the way the other 141 were not right, you weren’t exactly sane if you signed up with the SAS in the first place. But in a was that was decidedly unnatural,
Ghost wasn’t exactly one to judge If Soap was actually inhuman, his Sordid past with Roba had left him distinctly non-human. Not quite living, not quite dead, an actual fucking Wraith. It seemed like some sort of divine joke that he’d earnt the call sign Ghost even before that whole mess but that’s a whole other story. The thing was, that on paper at least, Soap was meant to be 100% regular human.
He couldn’t quite explain it, but sometimes if he looked at Johnny he’d almost blur in his peripheral vision or his shadow would twist and warp. Then Ghost would blink and it would be as if nothing had ever happened. As much as this should probably have set off alarm bells in Ghost’s head he found that he trusted Johnny wholeheartedly, regardless of whether or not he was human. He’d been apprehensive about the young Sergeant at the start but he’d quickly earnt Simon’s favour with his competency and quick thinking. The absolute shitshow that was Las Almas had only cemented his trust in Soap.
That trust was being put to the test now in Chicago.
The two of them had been separated, with Ghost tasked with providing overwatch from the opposing skyscraper and Soap infiltrating from above. It meant that they were playing to the strengths of all of the team members as Ghost’s preternatural stillness and sharp vision made him an exceptional sniper, and Soap’s broad but agile frame made him an excellent infiltrator, but it rubbed Ghost the wrong way all the same that they were being split up already.
With a sigh Ghost refocused on his target as activity picked up on Comms and settled in to watch and wait.
Gaz was quickly working his way down from the rooftop with the Marines and Soap and Price had successfully rappelled down the side of the building. They’d made good pace and had freed the Hostages as they went before they started to sweep the server floor for Hassan.
So of course from there everything quickly went to shit.
They’d been forced to move to clear one of the lower floors after the server and control rooms both proved to be empty and enemy fire forced them inside the building and out of Ghost’s sight. From there everything had escalated until Price was injured.with Gaz tending to Price’s wounds it left Soap alone without any immediate backup and without a weapon yet again. Ghost felt helpless to do anything but scan building through his scope to attempt to follow the chaos as it unfolded. Triumphant calls from the comms indicated that the missile had been successfully neutralised but it wasn’t over yet. The building was still crawling with AQ and Hassan was still at large.
Never let it be said that Soap couldn’t take instruction though, as he snuck his way past hostiles at Simon’s instruction he put the skills learnt in Las Almas to good use eliminating the immediate threats. It had seemed like Soap was nearly in the clear until a burst of rapid gunfire, a stifled grunt and a low thud echoed across from Soap’s mic.
Fucking hell. Ghost couldn’t do anything but desperately scan the windows for any sign of movement and keep his Sniper rifle at the ready.
There was a staticky gasp
“Ghost…”
He was alive, that was good at least, but he might not be for much longer if Simon couldn’t do anything.
“Soap…”
“Watch the window…”
Simon sprinted to reposition and get a better angle, dialing in the scope until the image of Soap’s injured form being dangled out of a window by Hassan fucking Zyani himself came into focus.
The wind picked up and Simon did the rapid mental calculations needed to ensure the shot hit before taking a breath to steady his aim.
As he squeezed the trigger, he could only watch helplessly as Soap’s form plummeted down the side of the building even as the target’s head exploded into red mist.
As he fell, Soap's shadow twisted and expanded and in a blink his body shifted to match it, great wings spreading wide to catch the air and turn the freefall into a controlled descent.
Huh. Seemed the little fucker wasn’t quite as human as he seemed after all.