Alfred Responds With: “of Course, What Kind?”

Crying rn. I need this to be better. It has to be better

John “thinks he’s unlovable and people merely tolerate him” Soap Mactavish; is unconvinced when Gaz tells him that he is Ghost’s favorite on their team. Vehemently denies it. He’d love for it to be true, but knows in his heart that it isn’t.

Gotta love that sweet, sweet low self-esteem that makes that sweet angst

___

A Bit Too Much

Angst below the cut

___

Growing up Soap was described as “a bit too much”. By his parents, siblings, the kids at school— He just accepted that’s what he was. “A bit too much”. As he grew, he tried different things to deal with this. Not engaging with people was his first approach. Then when people started saying “too quiet” he changed things up.

“A bit too much”, “Too quiet”, “Tries too hard”, “Thinks he’s too good for us”, “Bipolar freak”—

So he gave up. He put up a front full of confidence. This became the persona everyone knew. This was Soap, that’s how he was. Brave, facing the world with a grin and a smug comment. But even though Soap lived the persona so long, he was constantly reminded that, well, he was too much. Too friendly, too arrogant. He talked back, stuck his neck out. And when he got those looks from everyone… Well, it took everything he had to not let his mask crack.

When he joined 141 and met Ghost, he smiled and continued the act. The confidence, the know-it-all attitude. That glare from Ghost almost made him break. But he kept going. He proved himself to be a valuable member of 141. He earned his mark. When Ghost started to tone down the aggression, Soap simply told himself the man was trying to be nice considering they were going to be working together for the unforeseeable future. He had to be nice so they could work together smoothly.

The jokes were odd but considering how dark some were Soap took them as Ghost trying to remind him of Ghost’s reputation. Then the shoulder pats after a job well done— Those were always done in front of others. Ghost couldn’t show people his distaste for Soap.

One evening they were on a mission in a temperate forest. It’s been quite a bit since then so Soap couldn’t really remember why they were there. But they had to camp out there overnight. A fire burning between them, laying on their backs, looking through the trees staring at the stars. The others were passed out, and it was between either Soap or Ghost to keep watch.

“Get some rest, sergeant.”

“Me? You tell me that with those bags under your eyes?”

The chuckle that came from Ghost wasn’t like the dry, forced laughter that he had heard before. It was warm, genuine. Soap couldn’t remember the last time he heard someone laugh like that in response to something he said/done.

He’s tired, probably thinks a knock knock joke would be hilarious.

Soap insisted he would take watch and Ghost looked at him with unreadable eyes before agreeing. Probably didn’t want to bother arguing with him considering how stubborn and insufferable Soap could be. Soap knows how he is, he remembers his mother telling him that several times before he finally joined the military.

Since then, Soap would think about how Ghost looked that night. Though he was in gear, same skull mask and balaclava, faded black grease around the eyes. He looked so- so—

Soap had a bad habit of becoming obsessive when he finds a person that he likes. Someone who he genuinely loves to be around. Past girlfriends and boyfriends and friends in general called him “clingy” and some said he would stalk them. He never tried to make them uncomfortable, but when he finds that person who brightened his day just by him seeing them… He tried to be around them as much as possible. But he would be constantly reminded of how weirded out people were by that.

But Ghost didn’t give him the same signs that he was crossing the line like those in the past. Wasn’t told to back away, stop talking for moment, just leave him alone for fuck’s sake. Soap tried to give Ghost his space, watched what he said, and leave him alone as often as possible. He wasn’t sure why this man was so patient with him. His own parents never gave him this kind of tolerance. Soap wondered if Ghost, despite his reputation, was a lot nicer then what people made him out to be.

So after deeming that Ghost was too nice to tell him to fuck off, Soap decided to avoid him. The first couple of days, if Soap saw Ghost in the hall or in the room he entered, he had to remind himself to leave him alone. The man needed a break. After a week and a half he got used to the lack of companionship (though he knows Ghost was loving the change). After three weeks Soap found company elsewhere.

He would pick random recruits to annoy for a day then leave them alone. Sometimes he annoyed Price because the captain had some actually funny facial expressions and if Soap said something off putting, Price would let him know without any words. But he tried to leave Price alone as much as possible. He didn’t want to wear him out like he did Ghost.

So Gaz became his next target. After the first day of inserting himself into Gaz’s dad-to-day, he would talk about whatever with him. He could say things to Gaz that he couldn’t with recruits or with Price (his judging facial expressions were amusing but did have a impact after a bit). Gaz would engage back, which was a nice change to the hesitant replies from the recruits or the short replies from Price (who was usually working on something when Soap “graced” him with his presence).

He found Gaz in Price’s office filing things away for the man while he was away. He decided to join him, pulling a chair from the corner of the room and sitting next to Gaz. After a minute they started talking about random things. Then Gaz asked him a question.

“Soap, I have to know… did you and Ghost get into a fight or something?”

Soap was doodling on his arm with a marker when Gaz asked this. He looked up with a confused expression, “No?”

“Really? Everyone thought something happened between you two since you’re not hanging out anymore.”

“I left before something did happen,” Soap replied as he returned to doodling.

It was Gaz’s turn to be confused, “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Garrick. Man was bound to snap givin’ how much I bothered him!”

“Didn’t really look like you were bothering him. He’s been upset since you started avoiding him.”

Soap stops again, the felt tip of the marker presses into his skin. He’s been doing such a good job of avoiding Ghost and giving him his space that he hadn’t noticed how the man reacted to all of this.

“Upset? Sure it’s not been relief?”

He forced a laugh at the end of that statement but Gaz wasn’t laughing back.

“Soap, man is one wrong tone away from ripping someone’s head off. That’s why everyone thinks you two got into a fight. But you just left without any reason?”

Soap stares at Gaz, “What?”

“Soap… He’s been pissed at the world since his best friend just abandoned him!”

Best friend?

Those words shook Soap to his core. All his previous “best friends” were some poor sods who were a bit too friendly with him and Soap latched onto them, mistaking their tolerance for acceptance. He would notice after being dropped by someone he saw as his best friend that people would refer to them as his victim, not his friend. He never heard anyone referred to as his friend in general, let alone best friend.

“I’m-I’m not- He’s not my best friend. He could barely tolerate me…”

Gaz chose then to laugh, “You’re pulling my leg!”

When Gaz finally stopped laughing and noticed the incredibly confused look on Soap’s face. His smile drops and a grim look takes over.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

Soap shakes his head wordlessly.

“Seriously? You’re like his favorite person out of everyone anywhere. He likes you over Laswell!”

“No he doesn’t-“

“Man, yes he does! Where have you been where you think that you’re not Ghost’s favorite person?”

Soap stands abruptly, “Stop fucking with me, Gaz!”

Gaz flinches, “Soap-“

“Where have I been? Where have you been?! There is no way Ghost likes me- I’m just an annoying fly in his ear.”

Soap was nicknamed “Fly” as a kid by his dad, said he was as annoying and hard to get rid of as the actual insect. When he left for the military and eventually earned the callsign “Soap”, he never thought he would feel relief to be called a cleaning product before.

Soap storms off, leaving Gaz staring at him with concern written across his face. He all but ran out of the base, not caring how many people he almost ran into on his way out. He didn’t care that it was pouring rain or that he didn’t have a jacket on him, just a long sleeved shirt and some joggers on. He absentmindedly pushed his sleeve down on the arm he was doodling on as he walked. It was cold like hell froze over, which would have had to happen for Gaz, anyone, to think that Ghost liked him.

He came to a sewer pipe that they practiced crawling through with gear on to prepare for the field. But for now it was a place to hide. Soap crawled inside, finding it much roomier without twenty/thirty pounds of gear on. He curls up in a fetal position, every bit of his childhood, every moment that led up to him becoming who he was. To the mask that he wore every day. It all flooded over him.

His sisters complaining when he tried to play with them. His mother swatting him when he forgot to stop talking. His father forgetting to pick him up after school. His classmates talking about him behind his back. One of his teachers muttering “Something’s not right with him” as he walked away from her desk. His first boyfriend telling him that he was too clingy and that it was creeping him out. His first “best friend” telling him he was too weird and talked too much.

Once the dam broke he couldn’t stop the tears.

Out of all the cruel things that happened to him throughout the years, this was the cruelest of them all. That brief moment where he actually believed that Ghost liked him. That his laughs were genuine when Soap told a joke. That he actually paid attention when he told a story. That when Soap was excited about something he actually stopped to listen. But none of that was real.

Because Soap was a bit too much for anyone to handle.

Squishy sand makes brain go brrrrrr

Drop & Squish Collection by sand.tagious

There is something more tragic. Promising yourself you can stay up until 1 AM reading fanfics only for Ao3 to be down.

There is literally nothing more tragic than promising yourself that you’ll go to bed only to stay up until 1 in the morning on Ao3.

Go check out my fic btw

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordilla_Ann/works

wait….are any americans aware that the cia overthrew the democratically-elected premier of iran in 1953 because he wouldn’t concede to western oil demands….and how that coup was the reason for the shah’s return to power, the iranian revolution, and the resulting fundamentalist dictatorship…..like, america literally dissolved iranian democracy and no one knows about it???

This is amazing.

This is the cutest thing I’ll see today. 

Ah yes. Females. The reason I still have a (slight) will to live.

Just remember. There is no such thing as a fake geek girl. There are only fake geek boys. Science fiction was invented by a woman.

The lightning was a paid actor.

I sent this to my sister and she was like "congratulations on finally channeling Thranduil as an alternative personality"

Are anyone of us okay?

This is beautiful, this is everything. If you don’t let them feel better I will cry my eyes out

Soap!Ghost MINI SERIES. Pact Maker Pt.1

Purely Self Indulgent. Had this idea, along with many others I'll eventually get to. Overview; Ghost has to go Solo, and Soap is not about it from the start- especially for how long, and what it could potentially ruin,

Count; 5880 NSFW. Angst. Fluff. Swearing. Physical Abuse (though unintentional). Self Doubt. Jealous Partners. Protective Friends. Make up cuddles.

Price’s office had never been filled with such tension. Such anger. Such genuine, and raw malcontent. He was sat at his desk, fingers laced, and rested on a closed file. Ghost sat opposite him, silent, unmoving. Soap, however, paced like a wild animal in a cage. His strides were long and heavy, boots thudding like iron on the wood. Ghost swallowed thickly, glancing to the man as he appeared in the corner of his vision, before Soap shifted on his heel and went back the way he came.

“You’ll wear tracks in my floor-“

“I don’t give a fuck about your floor!” Soap roared from the back of the room, making Ghost flinch. He’d never heard Soap yell like this- let alone because of him.

“MacTavish, I know you’re upset, son-“

“Upset?! Upset?!” Soap repeated, closing the gap with intent to harm and Ghost stood quickly, catching Soap around the middle and held him back, “I’m more than upset, Captain! How could you approve this! Better yet, how dare you!!”

“Johnny- Stop. Please” Ghost begged quietly, Soap barely sparing him a glance at he pointed at Price furiously, his engagement band glinting in the pale office light.

“You should have stood up-! Should have said no-! How could you let them take him! Take him from me!!”

“My hands were more than tied, MacTavish. The orders came from well over me- and Laswell—Even that new fucker in place of Shepard. They saw what Ghost can do… The security footage of his shot that saved your life that night in Chicago, and more…” Price sighed, Soap’s chest still heaving in fury as Ghost’s hands remained on Soap’s waist ready to stop him if he tried to charge forward.

“Did you even tell them? Three months, Price… Three. Months. I’ve already done the math- if everything goes to plan and stays on course, do you know when he’ll get back?”

“John-“

“Do you?!”

“… No. No John, I don’t. I received the order file, and I called you both- I shouldn’t have even called you, to be honest. This is meant to be a private and confidential mission brief. A need to know only operation. But you are Ghost’s fiancé now, and I knew this mission would cut it close, clearly a little too close…”. Soap barely softened at that, shaking his head a little as his right hand gripped at Ghost’s jacket tightly.

“That doesn’t excuse this, Price. None of it. If this all goes well, and he even makes it home? It’ll be on the fucking night of our wedding day.”

“I’m sorry, son. I do wish there was more I could do- to change this”

“Then tell them he’s not going! O-Or that he’ll only be there for part of the deployment! We’re not here to babysit grunts and show them how it’s done! There’s PT’s and field officers, and their own fucking missions for that kind of bullshit!!”

“Soap that’s enough- You’re going to work yourself up” Ghost pleaded softly, taking hold of Soap’s wrist, tugging it to his chest.

“Going to..? Well fuck, maybe we shouldn’t get married after all if you can’t even tell when I’m about to fucking sod a man”

“Soap, stop it. Please… I don’t want this any more than you do-“

“Then stand up for yourself for once!!” Soap bellowed in his face, his eyes darting between Ghost’s searching for even a hint of self-preservation or defiance, shaking his head softly when all he saw was defeat and heartache, “… I don’t believe it..”

“John-“ Ghost’s finger’s tightened on Soap’s waist, trying to hold him steady, but Soap punched him square in the mouth; hard. Ghost staggered back, gloved hand to the mouth of his masked face, Price shot to his feet to intervene but Ghost raised a hand, staying the captain in place, both he and Soap breathing hard.

“Don’t-… Don’t fucking touch me- Stay away from me-“

“John-“

“Touch me and I swear we’re done!!”. Ghost froze dead, staring at Soap wide eyed in shock and horror, fear paling him as his knees buckled slightly, “Don’t touch me, Simon. Just leave me alone. I can’t look at either of you”. Soap left Price’s office, slamming the door behind him, his footsteps quickly fading up the hall. Ghost was still frozen in place, staring at the door, and exhaled shakily.

They’d never fought. Never thrown hands at each other- aside from training. Never said a harsh word or let another dig too far. They’d never raised their voices at one another, understanding such a thing could trigger a panic attack or mental blackout.

This… Ghost had never seen Soap like this.

“That looked like a solid hit- are you alright?” Price asked, his voice quiet and remorseful. Ghost slid his mask up, cuffing his mouth on his forearm with a wince feeling his lip sting, noting the heavy streak of red and swallowed thickly.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”.

“We need to discuss the last of this mission brief, Ghost. I’m sorry.”

“… Not your fault, Captain.” Ghost replied quietly, the usual spark of strength and witty charm it usually held gone. He was heartbroken and scared, he felt empty and alone; and he was unable to hide it this time. Ghost fidgeted with his ring beneath his glove for the rest of the briefing, eyes fixed on the information he and Price went over. Not a word sinking in as Ghost’s chest ached endlessly and his mind raced with other thoughts- all of Soap.

“… Take the folder. Keep studying up on your own time. You leave tonight-“

“To-… What? Tonight?? Price- that’s too much”

“It’s the orders, Ghost. A Helo will be here for you at twenty-hundred sharp… I hope you and Soap can work this out before you need to leave, Ghost. I really do”. Ghost took the folder in a tight and angry grip, leaving without another word and thundered straight for his room. Soap had returned to his own room, pacing around the neat space, furious tears heavily pooled at the edges of his eyes, muttering bitter curses in Gaelic. He finally fell into a sit on the edge of his bed, fisting the sheets as his knee bounced, trying to quell the hurricane brewing within him. His eyes snapped around his room, looking for something- anything- to distract himself, his eyes finally settling on his open sketch book on his desk. On heavy legs he stood and crossed the room, sitting down with a broken exhale, and his trembling fingers struggled to pick up the book. He traced the half-finished sketch of Rudy and Ale- The pair mid cheers- a small fond memory Soap had after they’d gotten Ale back. He flipped back, looking at the different sceneries he’d drawn, the cities and people. He flicked the page again, and there was one of Ghost; His mask pushed up, a cigarette in his curious-smile curled lips, a wondrous glimmer in his eyes as they bore into the viewer of the sketch. Soap slammed the book shut on his desk and shoved it away, knocking over several of his organizers and sketch kits, and it all finally hit him. Soap’s lent on his desk, his face in his palms, and he finally cried. He tried to stifle his sobs into his hands, but nothing could contain the sounds of such agony.

Soap’s anguished cries effortlessly bled beneath his door, you didn’t have to be near to hear it. Soap doubled over, arms folded against his desk, burying himself into the crook of his elbow, trying to get a hold of himself- of his emotions- of his spiralling anxiety. There was a knock on his door, soft and cautious, and his door handle squeaked softly after.

“I told you to stay away from me--!” Soap cried angrily as he sat up to look towards to door, hesitating and froze in surprise when Konig was half way into his room. Konig looked mortified, his shadowed eyes mirroring Soap’s agony as worry glossed them brightly.

“Kleiner Habicht, what has happened?” Konig asked softly, his voice low and gentle, offering a small host of warmth to what he sensed as a long cold sadness. Soap stared at him in disbelief, his features soon twisting again into agony and he stood from his desk hurriedly, the chair tipping backward with the force before Soap fled into Konig’s hold. He slugged his arms around the bigger man’s ribs, and immediately began sobbing again. Konig gasped, clutching Soap tight and stood his ground, cradling the back of Soap’s head into his chest and sighed. Konig carefully pushed the door shut, beginning to sway gently as he held Soap steady.

There had to be a reason why Ghost wasn’t here. There had to be a sensible cause for Soap to be so distraught. He saw Soap still had his ring on as he all but ran into Konig’s arms, but the German was still unable to stifle the frustration that brewed inside him, that he was here holding Soap when he was so upset, and Ghost was not.

Ghost was stood in his bedroom, hand gripping the doorhandle tightly, but he was frozen with inaction. Of course he’d heard the slam and battering from Soap trashing his desk. Of course he heard him begin to cry. Of course he wanted to tear down the hall and rip Soap’s door off its fucking hinges and hold him so tight his spine snapped.

But Soap’s words terrified him. Touch me and I swear we’re done!!.

Would Soap really do that? He didn’t mean it, surely. Not after everything they’d been through. He was just hurting; scared, like Ghost is. Ghost had seen the look in Soap’s eyes when he’d proposed- that joy- that pure unbridled joy he’d only ever heard the girls in senior high drool over at lunch to their friends, or seen in movies. It was real. It was a real thing that existed, and he brought it out in Johnny, and Johnny in him.

Ghost blinked and his grip stiffened on the door handle, twisting it angrily and tore his door open. Soap flinched in Konig’s arms at the bang from far up the hall, gasping sharply when Ghost pushed the door open, slamming it into Konig’s back. The pair staggered further into Soap’s room as Ghost followed in, confusion in his eyes at the whole situation, prickling with rage.

“Konig. What are you doing in here?” Ghost’s voice was low, angry, protective. He spared a glance to Soap in his arms and bit down the immediate stab of fury that tried to spur his tongue.

“You.” Konig answered just as gravelled and bitter. He gently pushed Soap from his hold, holding him back at arm’s length as Konig faced Ghost, brow furrowing behind his mask, “Why must I be here, and not you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You would have heard your ones cries. Why did you ignore him?”

“I wasn’t ignoring him-“ Ghost countered taking a step forward, his frustration quickly rising in his voice.

“Then why did I have to come?”

“You didn’t, you could have minded your own fucking business-“

“Ghost!”. He froze at Soap’s voice, snapping out of his building bloodlust, looking down at Soap just behind Konig, and took his step back, “… Konig, Ghost and I had a fight.”. The German looked surprised at this information, incredibly so. Even he knew the pair were always sensitive to one another’s emotions, thus triggers, to avoid such things, ”… I yelled at him to leave me alone. Not to touch me. He wasn’t ignoring me, I actually have no doubt staying away just now would have been really difficult.”. He looked up at Ghost, and the hellish suffering in Ghost’s eyes silently affirmed as much.

“… You should not have listened to him, Ghost.” Konig frowned, like Ghost should have known better, “I’m angry at you. You should have come when you heard his first tears…”.

“I know… I know I should have.” Ghost admitted, his shoulder’s loosening, and Soap’s eyes softened as he watched Ghost yield to the bigger soldier, “But I was afraid, Konig. What caused our fight, is something that can’t be changed. It’s going to take me away from him, from all of you, for a very long time”. Konig’s brows shift into a deep worry, knotting them together as he watched Ghost swallow thickly, “… So I’ll need you to protect him for me, Konig, until I can come home and marry him. Do you understand?”. Konig sighed then, deep and heavy with bitter understanding.

“… Ja mein Bruder… Ich werde ihn mit meinem Leben beschützen”. Konig huffed then, pivoting to look down at Soap and ruffled his Mohawk gently, “You two are too bonded to fight, Soap. No more tears.”. He could barely smile as Konig turned away, giving Ghost a sympathetic bow of his head, leaving as he quietly closed the door behind him, the pair left to talk.

“… I’m sorry I hit you” Soap finally mumbled, fidgeting with the cuts on his fingers, and Ghost was quick to smother both his hands in a single grip of his own to stop him.

“Stop it… They were finally starting to heal… And, it’s okay, Love. I deserved it- besides, it was a clean and solid hit. All your training with Konig is paying off…”. Soap’s bottom lip wobbled and he had to look down, carefully moving both his hands to squeeze Ghost’s singular one tightly, and all Ghost could muster was a weak smile.

“… ‘m sorry”. Ghost pulled Soap into him tightly, cradling Soap into the crook of his neck, squeezing him like a vice. Another broken sob escaped Soap’s throat, his hands digging under Ghost’s jacket, gripping the shirt at his back tightly as he pushed as close into Ghost’s hold as he could. Ghost squeezed his eyes shut, fingertips digging into Soap’s body relentlessly, terrified to lose a single moment now that he could hold him without fear.

“They’re taking me tonight, Johnny”.

“What…?” Soap breathed, disbelief and pain filling his voice as he pulled back, trying to look up at Ghost, but the blond wouldn’t let him move, “Simon-“

“Don’t let go, Johnny… Please. A Helo is coming for me tonight, and then… I have to wait to hold you again…”. Soap’s hands trembled against Ghost’s back, slowly redoubling his grip as he closed his eyes against Ghost’s throat again.

“… Have you packed?”

“No… It’s been kinda hard to think about anything other than you, Love…”. Soap cried quietly into Ghost’s neck, trembling when he felt Ghost dip his head lower and rub his jaw against Soap’s, having to bite his bottom lip when he felt Ghost begin to tremble. If Ghost broke, there’d be no one to hold either of them up.

“… The sooner we pack your bag, the longer we can hold each other without worrying about it” Soap whimpered quietly, Ghost nodding briefly, but swallowed thickly.

“… I know. I know.”

“Can we please just get it done? I just-… I just want to hold you, Simon”. Ghost nodded briefly again, straightening with a broken exhale, his body trembling as he held Soap’s cheek in his palm, thumbing it gently.

“… I’m so sorry, John..”

“Don’t-… Don’t Simon. Please. Don’t make this harder than it already is and will be.” Soap whimpered, shaking his head in Ghost’s touch, and the blond shakily withdrew, squeezing Soap’s hand tightly as they turned to leave his room, moving to Ghost’s where they began to pack his duffle. Soap sat beside the bag on Ghost’s bed, taking the clothes handed to him, folding them neatly before setting them inside. They were both silent during the process, terrified that severing the void would cause one of or both of them to break completely. As Soap lay the last of Ghost’s kit within, he swallowed thickly, looking at its contents and pushed to stand on shaky legs.

“Where are you going?”

“Just- back to my room for a minute… I’ll be right back” Soap replied quietly, soothing the panic in Ghost’s voice with a weak, but tender smile. Ghost moved the bag to the floor at the foot of the bed, zipping it shut with a shiver, and unintentional hiccup of distress. He covered his mouth quickly, grunting in pain when he touched his split open lip and pulled his mask free. Ghost dropped the mask to his bed, padding to the mirror in the corner of his room and observed himself with a sigh; that was a hell of a split alright. Ghost’s mouth and chin was doused in his blood, the mask not doing much to absorb the crimson liquid, and Ghost sighed. He was in his bathroom when Soap returned, the Scotsman’s brow rising in gentle worry when he heard Ghost’s grunts of discomfort and running water. Soap put a small pair of books on Ghost’s bed before approaching, gasping in horror at the damage he’d actually done to Ghost, tears filling his eyes as Ghost looked at him and smiled.

“Told you it was a good one-“

“Simon..! I-I—I’m so sorry!!”

“Love- it’s alright… Nothin’ a couple butterfly stitches won’t fix…” Ghost tried to soothe, but Soap was a mess. He pushed Ghost to rest against the basin, his trembling hands opening his medkit and pulling on a pair of gloves, making Ghost’s eyes lid adoringly.

“bhuail mi e-… bhuail mi e--…” Soap whimpered quietly to himself over and over as he properly cleaned Ghost’s split lip. Ghost still wasn’t perfect at interpreting Gaelic, but he’d been practicing for moments like this. “…Bhuail mi e, tha mi nam uilebheist-“

“Na dean…”. Soap froze. His eyes widened in shock on Ghost’s heartbroken stare, the blond shaking his head a little in Soap’s hands, his bloodied lips etching up into a smile at the corners, “Chan eil mi ann an gaol le uilebheist…”. Soap’s brow met Ghost’s chest with a heavy thud and whimper, Ghost wrapping Soap up in his arms as he stroked the back of Soap’s head intimately, “You didn’t mean it, Love. And I can see and feel in every moment how sorry you are. You’re agonizing yourself over this. No monster would do such a thing”. Soap clutched Ghost’s sides tightly as he was held, whimpering against Ghost’s chest as more tears soaked into the bigger man’s clothes.

“I’m so sorry, Simon-“

“Sshh… That’s enough… It’s okay, Love. It’s okay.” Ghost whispered back, rubbing the base of Soap’s spine delicately through his shirt- discovering a while ago, this was an effective way to help calm Soap down- and Soap smacked Ghost’s wrist lightly, playfully, to make him stop.

“Quit. That’s cheating.”

“Do you feel better…?”

“No…”

“Liar.” Ghost smiled softly as Soap lifted his head from Ghost’s chest, delicately dabbing the pooled blood away again, and got to work setting the butterfly stitch clips in place carefully. Ghost’s eyes remained fixed on Soap’s solemn features, trying not to smile as Soap would quickly cuff his cheeks on his shoulder, putting the last clip in place.

“… It should heal up in couple weeks…”

“Normally it’s only a few days- Should be proud”

“Simon..”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood, Love. I’m sorry.” Ghost sighed, thumbing the last of Soap’s tears away as Soap peeled the gloves from his hand, tossing them in the little waste bin, “You went back to your room to get something, right?” Ghost then smiled as he changed topic, lifting Soap’s chin delicately with his index knuckle, tilting his head curiously as Soap nodded shyly, “Well…? Can I see?”. Soap nodded again, tidying the medkit, and put it away carefully, taking Ghost’s hand and tugged him back to the bed. Ghost heeled off his boots, placing them neatly beside his duffle bag and Soap hesitated at the edge, watching Ghost curiously, and he smiled weakly as Ghost shuffled to the far side, and laid down. Soap followed his lead, quick to kick off his own boots, and picked up the two sketch books, crawling onto the bed to lay in Ghost’s arms.

“… I went and got you these…”

“A couple of your sketch books?”

“Mhm… One’s already full.. The other one, only a few pages…”

“You want me to try and draw?” Ghost mused, his arm tucked snug under Soap’s neck, mindlessly toying with the quills atop his head.

“Only if you feel like it, and if you get time… I just.. Thought they might help keep you grounded while you’re gone” Soap replied quietly, suddenly feeling foolish as he cheeks reddened, “… Maybe I should just give you my filled out ones.. You won’t have time- I still don’t even know if you like sketching—“

“Baby..” Ghost hushed, his fingers running down Soap’s cheek to his jaw, smiling gently as he tilted Soap’s attention off the books to himself, “I’d love to take them, both of them… I like sketching- I’m just no good at it; I’m nothing like you”

“Yet..” Soap corrected softly, a wishful glint in his eyes as Ghost chuffed, kissing Soap’s forehead gently.

“Mm. Yet… Who knows… I might be better than you by the time I get back”

“That’d be nice.. We could sketch together then.. I’d like that..” Soap trailed off quietly at the thought, tucking his knee between Ghost’s as he nestled closer.

“Yeah?... Well, even if I still suck, would you mind if I still tried to sketch with you?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all..!” Soap gasped, seeming shocked by the proposal looking up at him from Ghost’s chest, “I-… Simon I’ve wanted to share more hobbies with you for years…”

“I know… I’m sorry I haven’t been very willing to step out of my comfort zone-“

“Don’t say that. Please, Si… You’ve taken bounds out of your comfort zone since we’ve met, and more since we started dating. Don’t think you’re still in a tiny box, Si… You’ve no idea the progress you’ve made”. Ghost’s own cheeks reddened softly, a coy smile on his lips as he brushed his fingers through Soap’s streak of quills, eyes visibly tracing every inch of his face.

“… I’m going to miss you, John”. The words ruined him. Both men weakened heavily as Soap tucked the books behind him, wriggling as close to Ghost as he could as the pair tangled together, “I’m gonna’ miss you so much”. Soap bit his cheek, his throat constricting and it took everything he had not to scream. He couldn’t keep crying, that wasn’t fair on Ghost. He bit the tears back, running his hands up Ghost’s back and cradled the base of his skull, softly running his nails against Ghost’s scalp.

“I’m gonna’ miss you too, Simon… So fucking much” Soap whispered painfully, flinching when he felt Ghost hiccup. He’d broken. Ghost had finally cracked after all these years. Soap had never seen him cry, not once. Even injured, instinctive tears of pain never came to Ghost, and for the longest time Soap was genuinely convinced Ghost was physically unable to cry. Soap’s eyes barely opened, his lips wobbling as he rolled them together into a thin line, pinching them between his teeth. It didn’t take long for Ghost’s tears to reach Soap’s skin, making Soap tremble as he redoubled his hold, as did Ghost. He didn’t sob or scream, but he could barely breathe, shaking as he fisted Soap’s shirt and smothered him in his grasp.

“You promise you’ll wait for me?”. Soap was grasping at threads to keep his walls standing, managing a nod and a muffled noise of affirmation, “I’m coming back. I promise you, Johnny. I promise I’ll be home in time”

“I know you will, Si… I believe you, with all my heart” Soap whimpered, choking off a small whine as Ghost adjusted himself slightly, pressing his face to Soap’s, the pair nuzzling and blindly mapping the other’s face with their own.

“Tha gaol agam ort, nas motha na bhios fios agad gu bràth…” Ghost breathed against Soap’s lips before kissing them hard and desperately, and Soap came undone. His tears bled over although his eyes were shut, kissing Ghost back with just as much desperation and passion until they had to break for air.

“You can’t keep doing that to me” Soap cried softly, tugging at the chest of Ghost’s jacket weakly in frustration as Ghost barely opened his eyes to look at Soap before him.

“What? Do what, Love?”

“Stop using my mother tongue against me- it’s not fair” Soap pouted and Ghost laughed weakly through his tears, putting his brow to Soap’s and kissed the bridge of his nose softly.

“Sorry… But I’m saying everything correctly though, right?”

“With the worst British accent mixed into it, yeah”

“You’re such a dick”

“Yeah, and I’m all yours” Soap taunted weakly, the pair trembling as they looked at one another, tears mixing together against their skin as Ghost smiled painfully.

“Good… Good, I dunno’ if I’d cope if I lost you…”

“You’ll never lose me, Simon. No matter what, okay?”. Ghost’s eyes lidded slightly at the words. There were some promises and vows you couldn’t make in this industry, no matter how brave or how much you loved someone; a human is still just a human.

“Nor you, I” Ghost replied weakly, suppressing his fear for Soap’s sake, giving his man that pledge to hold tight while he was gone. Soap smiled back, closing his eyes as he nuzzled his face back against Ghost’s, the blond closing his eyes tight and mimicked the affection, securing Soap in his arms, the pair finding a moment to rest. The tiniest piece of calm before the storm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost jolted awake sharply at the heavy knocks to his door, his arm snapping off Soap’s back to grab the sheets behind him protectively, ready to throw himself over the smaller man to defend him. Soap flinched, gasping as he clutched at Ghost’s chest, and dared peak back over his shoulder to the door.

“Ghost. Warning call. Helo touches down in twenty.” Price called through the door gently, his voice still heavy with sadness and what Soap hoped was regret, the pair listening to Price’s footfall disappear up the hall.

“… Fuck” Ghost sighed quietly, releasing the covers and ran his hand up Soap’s back gently, continuing to cradle him close.

“Maybe sleeping wasn’t the best idea..”

“Why not?”

“… The last few hours I had with you are gone..”

“But you were in my arms none-the-less…” Ghost reasoned warmly, looking down at Soap in his hold, delicately stroking Soap’s cheek, heart aching in his chest as Soap smiled at him tenderly.

“Yeah… I suppose you’re right…”

“When am I wrong?”

“Oof… We’ve only got twenty minutes, Si.. We don’t have that kinda’ time”

“Brat.” Simon chuffed, as Soap’s cheeks warmed under Ghost’s continued affection, rubbing his cheeks against Ghost’s touch.

“… I know I’m giving you the books, but… Is there anything you want to take with you?”

“… You”

“Simon”

“I know… I’m sorry.” Ghost sighed, peppering soft kisses to Soap’s face as the Scotsman simply let himself soak in the affection, burning the feeling of Ghost’s lips against his skin to memory, “… Can I have a couple of your shirts?”

“Of course… You can take as many as you want, Si…” Soap nodded, looking up as Ghost shyly pulled back, the pair slowly getting out of bed and tugged their boots back on, Ghost unable to stop the tremors from picking up again. They shuffled through Soap’s drawers together, ghost knowing exactly which shirts he wanted, and Soap was happy to part with him if it meant helping Ghost through this. Soap watched as Ghost slid the sketch books and his shirts into the duffle, zipping it up again and looked at his trembling hands. Soap knelt carefully beside him, taking hold of Ghost’s closest hand and threaded their fingers together tightly, giving Ghost his bravest smile when the blond looked at him.

“You’ll stay, until the Helo is gone, won’t you?”. Soap’s smile cracked slightly as he nodded, squeezing Ghost’s hand tighter.

“Of course. Of course I will, Love.” He assured gently, both of them hesitating at the every familiar hum of the large aircraft beginning to resonate outside. The both stood on shaky legs as Soap handed him a clean balaclava, watching the blond slide it on carefully and slowly. They started the final process reluctantly, Ghost’s duffle in one hand, and Soap’s in the other as they left the room together, Soap turning Ghost’s bedroom light off with a hard tremble. The walk out to the landing zone seemed shorter than it ever had, the pair trying to take as long as possible, shortening their strides as Soap hugged Ghost’s arm tightly.

“Lieutenant, it’s an honour to meet you” one of the officers grinned as he approached, offering his hand to shake, but Ghost simply shoved his duffle into the man’s grip.

“Thanks..”. The man was stunned to say the least, awkwardly taking the bag and turned back to the Helo, taking it up the ramp and set it aside as Soap pulled Ghost close.

“It’ll be okay, Si.. You’ll see- it’ll fly—We’ll be together again soon” Soap tried to reassure him softly as he looked up at Ghost’s shadowed irises, but all Ghost did was tilt his head slightly in silence, lidded eyes staring down at Soap in pure adoration and love.

“… I love you, John Riley… Change nothing about our wedding day, I’ll be there. I promise.”. Soap wilted, biting his lip to try and stop himself from crying all over again as he nodded, pressing into Ghost’s chest tightly.

“And I’ll be waiting for you…” Soap whimpered against his collar, the pair holding each other tight as the refuel lead was disengadged from the Helo.

“Lieutenant. Wrap it up. We’re out bound five ago”

“Try and order me one more fucking time and I’ll put you, and your fucking men down faster than a rabid dog. Am I understood, solider?!”. The gunman hesitated sharply, paling under Ghost’s savage stare, but his touch and hold on Soap was still ever gentle.

“Y-Yessir. Apologies, Sir.”

“Get the fuck out of my sight, I’ll board when I’m ready.”. The soldier left in a hurry, scampering away, tail between his legs, and Soap couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Maybe if you just yell at enough people they’ll send you home for being too problematic”

“I can only fucking hope, Love…” Ghost sighed, cradling Soap’s cheek as he thumbed it softly, “I’ll write you..”

“W-Write..? Why can’t we call—“

“They’ve restricted my comms… I’m granted airmail- that will be checked for information leaks or mission details… I can’t even have a burn phone”. Soap looked even more sick and heartbroken than before, he at least thought he’d get to hear Ghost’s voice every now and then, but now...

“Wait-“ Soap gently tugged from Ghost’s hands, patting his pockets down frantically until he found his phone, desperately flicking through the apps until he found the recorder and started it, “Tell me you love me again”

“What?”

“Simon…”. Soap’s voice was breaking, the timer silently counting away as Ghost realised what Soap was doing. Ghost smiled painfully behind his mask, pulling Soap close again as he cradled Soap’s phone in his hand and held the mic close.

“I love you, John Riley. I’ll finish this, and come home to make you mine forever. I promise…. I’ll be thinking of you, always… Never doubt for a moment that I don’t miss you with all that I am, John… Wait for me…”. Ghost stopped the recording and locked the screen as he put the phone back in Soap’s trembling hand, thumbing Soap’s tears away as he tugged Soap close as slid the mask up, kissing him slow and tenderly, savouring everything that was to be, his John Riley.

“Don’t start too many fights, I won’t be able to help bail you out…”

“I don’t start fights, I finish them” Ghost soothed as he dried the last of Soap’s tears, “… You’re so brave, Love. I’m proud of you.”

“As am I of you, Si…”

“I’ll always do what I can to make you proud, Johnny”. Ghost cupped Soaps cheek tightly, kissing him again, and Soap could tell it was for the final time. He clutched Ghost tightly, perching on his toes to hug him around the shoulders and Ghost’s arms wrapped around Soap’s middle in a vice like hold, “… Sleep in my room all you want, Love. You don’t have to ask.”. Soap chuffed weakly as he nodded, slowly settling back down on his heels as Ghost slid his mask back down. Ghost reluctantly slid Soap’s hands from his shoulders, holding them tightly as he kissed at them through his mask one last time, and turned away towards the waiting Helo. Soap watched helplessly, stood there with his arms wrapped around himself as he watched Ghost trudge up the ramp and sit on the seat against the wall. The pit crew wasted no time now that Ghost was finally on board, lifting off the ground with a shudder as they ramp began to close. Ghost’s eyes were shut tight, not daring look back at Soap, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from simply jumping off if he’d knew he’d survive the landing. For a moment there was nothing except the usual drawl of the Helo’s engines and turbines, but the other soldiers muttering in confusion by the jump door made his eyes open, looking in their direction.

“… Damn. Lil guy can move.”. Ghost squinted curiously, rising to his feet and sundered to the door, the others moving out of his way in terror, Ghost’s eyes widening at what they were talking about. Soap had sprinted over half way across the base in seconds. Soap knew the Helo’s turn path, and was making a mad dash to the edge of the base and the top of the security fence to see Ghost one last time. Ghost watched as Soap leaped up onto the back of the ute, onto the roof and across the bonnet of several trucks to the shipping containers, shaking his head with a laugh as Soap stumbled slightly with a landing but managed to keep his footing. The helo turned, Ghost now in a wide clear view for Soap as he held the rail by the jump door, Soap glancing and dug deeper into his strides. Soap leapt from a container to the edge of the security wall, catching it roughly at the chest and scrabbled to his feet, reaching up and over the edge of the fence railing towards Ghost as they swung past. Ghost reached back, both knowing there was no chance of a final touch, but it was there none the less. Ghost stared at the brunette as the distance between them quickly grew, watching Soap sink to his knees, closing his eyes and tried not to break again when he heard Soap’s anguished scream over the wind and engines.

The chaos. The accurate cannon content.

Bilbo: Hello people, who don't live here.

Kili: hello.

Fili: hi there.

Bofur: what the fuck is poppin!

Dwalin: WE ARE OUT OF DORITOS

Balin: WHO HAS THE KEY

Nori: WE LOST THE KEY!

Thorin, dramatically staring in the distance: don't speak to me of loss.

Gloin, balancing some plates: WHERE THE FUCK ARE THESE SUPPOSED TO GO

Oin, throwing the plates at Gloin: I DON'T KNOW

Bombur: [confused blinking]

Dwalin: WHERE ARE THE FUCKING DORITOS

Dori: TRY LOOKING UP YOUR ASS

Bilbo, sipping his tea: hmhm.