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They're Still Haunting Me

Summary:

Soap experiences the full package deal of a Ghost-Mental-BreakTM and gets hurt about it.

Notes:

Warnings: This was written a while ago and isn't long or exceptional in any way. Just my way of starting out, so plz don't kill me. Much better stuff coming soon!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Soap blinked himself awake, he was cold. Or more specifically, his legs were cold. His blanket had slipped halfway onto the floor during the night and left him to the mercy of the winter chill. He sat up with a sigh, grumbling under his breath about small, useless blankets and proceeded to get ready for the morning.

Price had told them earlier in the week that they would be headed to a small town some where in Belarus to head off a shipment of weapons to underground organizations.

Yawning, he started by doing a few basic stretches to wake himself up and get him ready for the day. Shirking on his jacket, heavy duty pants, and three layers of socks, he stomped into his boots and was out the door.

It was still a bit early, but people would be getting to the kitchen to prepare food soon so he busied himself with making some coffee in the rec room. After he'd finished his second cup, Price wandered in, though a little more awake than had felt. "Good, you're awake. We're meeting on the tarmac at 0500," Price said while pouring himself his own cup of coffee. He took a long sip, watching blandly as Soap left the room with a mock salute.

Heading back to his room, he rapped on Gaz's door in passing just in case the man wasn't up yet. He had woken up a bit earlier than normal, so was a bit ahead of the others. This was very new for him. He thought of doing the same to Ghost's, but shook his head with a soft chuckle. Best not to wake a sleeping beast, he thought to himself. Though, as he was passing his door, he heard some sort of jostling coming from inside.

His curiosity getting the better of him, he stopped, hand rapping on the door. "Lt, everythin good in there," he asked, the words no sooner out of his mouth than silence coming from the other side of the door.

After a moment, a quiet, "...Fine," answered him. He stayed for a moment, a slight feeling of worry settling in his gut. He ignored it, though with some reluctance, and instead called out, "Alright, just don' go bonkin' your pretty heed on anythin'." He didn't receive a response, so continued on to his room. He got his gear together, and headed out to the tarmac soon after. When he got there, both Ghost and Price were already waiting, seemingly in a heated conversation.

When Ghost spotted him though, he turned away and stepped onto the plane. Soap stared after him for a moment, that same feeling of wrongness clenching his stomach, paired now with a twinge of worry. He looked over at Price for some explanation, "Hasn't been getting much sleep, so he's a bit pissy at the moment."

He nodded his head, but his brow was still creased, sighing he climbed up the ramp and sat himself across from Ghost. Ghost was sat back, arms across his chest, eyes closed. No talking to him then, Soap thought as he heard Price and Gaz finding their seats. Gaz sat next to him, buckling himself in, tightening the straps as far as they'd go.

"You tryin' to become one wit the plane," Soap asked with a smirk. Gaz looked over at him with a glare, finishing up messing about with the buckles.

"No, just not taking any chances," he said a bit gruffly, giving one the straps a final, rough tug. He then patted his chest, seemingly pleased with himself, "Good to go."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When the plane touched down a while later, Soap was antsy to be out of his seat. He'd been on much longer flights, but they all left him with the same want to move. So, when they filed out into the cold he was a little happier than he usually would be at the bite of the strong winds.

"Alright, Gaz and I are going to be in charge of cover fire if things go sideways. Simon and Soap, you two are going to be the ones doing the extraction. We're taking a truck to the docks, that's where intel says the shipment is going to be unloaded. Your job is to grab the person who shows up for it," Price explained as they trudged through a snowy field towards the truck waiting for them.

As they piled in, Gaz and Price up front and Soap and Ghost in the back, Soap glanced over at his teamate. "Solid Lt.? You seemed a little quiet on the ride over."

"Peachy," Ghost said with obvious sarcasm. Another one word reply, though Johnny wasn't used to him being chatty, but he at least would usually keep up with their usual clever banter.

He only hummed in response, still feeling a bit off about Ghost's behavior. However hard he tried to hide it, Soap could see right through him. He was stiff, which was obvious thanks to the fact that they were presses up against each other. But there was something else, something not quite right with him. Ghost hadn't made eye contact with him that entire flight, nor was he doing so now. It was...strange to say the least.

As the truck lurched forward and Price and Gaz picked up a casual conversation, he busied himself with trying to hide the fact that he was staring. He was sure if he could catch something, some movement or glance, that he would figure out what was troubling his Lieutenant.

"Keep staring like that Johnny and your eyes'll pop outta your head," had him jumping slightly in his seat. He slowly turned to face Ghost fully, who was staring him down now. His eyes were red, he took note of, probably from lack of sleep.

"Sorry, just...," Soap paused, looking down at his lap, "I guess I'm worried about you."
He felt Ghost tense at his words, looking up to see his eyes boring into his own. It was slightly unnerving, but Soap kept his gaze locked on Ghost.

"Don't need anyone worrying over me," Ghost finally bit out, jerking himself to face forward. "You don't need any distractions while you're in the field Sergeant."

Soap felt his heart clench at that. He knew Ghost wasn't the sentimental type, but there was nothing wrong with looking out for one another. Hell, they'd kept each other alive and sane more times than he could count!

"Well, sorry I guess," he said softly, turning to face out the window, the snow offering a warmer embrace than his partner at the moment. Sighing, he waited for them to reach their destination.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When they finally reached a point where they could see the docks ahead of them, Price pulled off the road. "Ghost and Soap, you'll take east while Gaz and I set up south side," Price said while grabbing his weapon and exiting the vehicle.

Serperating and making their way to the point of infiltration, Soap tagged along behind Ghost. The silence of the forest sung out around them, only adding tension between them. Sighing, he decided to break it the best way he knew how, words. "So, I don't know what's going on with you right now, but...I guess I just want to say that if you need someone to talk to...you can talk to me," he stammered out; it wasn't perfect but it was genuine.

Suddenly Ghost spun around, rushing up to him, "I don't like being told what the bloody hell I do or don't need to do. If you've got a problem, then you can fuck off. We've got a job to do, and I'm not gonna let someones 'thoughts' or 'feelings' get in the way of that. Understood?"

He was pressed up against Soap and he could feel Ghost's deep breaths against his chest. Soap's heart was beating a mile a minute; he wasn't scared of Ghost, he'd worked ith him too long for that, but he knew something was wrong. Ghost wasn't the type to lash out like this.

"Look, I didn't mean anything like-," but he was cut off as a bullet wizzed past his head and split into the tree behind him. Both of them threw themselves to the ground as a hail of bullets slew through the air where they'd just been standing.

Ghost was still breathing heavily, he could hear it over the gunfire. He turned and found that he was staring dead ahead of him at the men heading towards them, and there was a mad glint in his eye. Ghost suddenly reared up, ducking behind a large pine, and returned fire. Soap pushed over as quick as he could to his own tree on his hands and knees. Leveling his gun at the men approaching, he fired at them in succession.

They dropped like flies, but from the shouts headed their way, there were more coming. He turned as he heard noise to his left and saw that Ghost was gone. Jerking to looking around him, he caught sight of him barreling through the trees. He was running towards the people attacking them.

The crazy fucker was apparently trying to get himself killed, and deciding that that wasn't a great idea, took off after him. The snow was deeper, so it slowed his progress, but Ghost seemed undeterred by it.

As he finally seemed to catch up with him, he stopped dead in his tracks. Ghost's gun was a few feet to his right, and multiple bodies litered the ground. The one to his immediate right had a slash through his jugular and a knife impaled into his chest. Hefting his gun and training it in front of him, he moved slowly forward. The returned silence was even more unnerving, coupled with the fact that his Lieutenant seemed to have gone off the rails.

He heard what seemed to be a scuffle a around the wall in front of him, and moved in that direction. The snow crunched slightly under his feet as he made to turn the corner.

As he did so, his guns barrel was shoved towards the sky and a hand whipped out, grasping at his gear and throwing him to the ground. Hitting the ground, his gun was knock away from him as he landed face first in the freezing snow. Though, he didn't really clock the temperature as he instead felt a knife go deep into his shoulder. He let out a cry at the pain that felt like lightning arching down his arm. He twisted around as best he could to fight his attacker, which caused the knife to carve in deeper.

Exhaling in excruciating pain, he was able to kick out at the man above him, which bought him all of two seconds. He rolled to side, before popping up onto his feet, his breathing rattling his lungs. Now able to see his attacker, he froze.

Ghost was quickly righting himself from the kick Soap had aimed at his kidney. He was then advancing on him in a flash. Soap jumped back right as another knife came within inches of his face.

"The hell Lt?! What're you doin," he bit out as he did his best to evade. He could feel the warm blood gushing out of the wound in his shoulder though, which was slowing his movements. As he stepped back again, Ghost took the opportunity to barrel into him. The wind knocked out of him, and his balance lost, Soap stumbled to the ground, landing on his back. Ghost appeared above him, although a bit blurry. He was loosing blood fast, but that didn't seem to matter in the face of certain death via his superior and friend.

Ghost brought down a knife harshly, Soap barely moving fast enough to grab ahold of the man's arm. Both men's arms shook as Ghost stared down at him teeth bared, breathing labored, and eyes crazed.

"Ghost...please," he bit out as the blade slowly came closer and closer to his throat, his strength waining. Soap was a mixture of fear and confusion looking up at a man he cared for, more than he would ever admit, holding a knife to his throat.

"...Simon...," he all but whispered as the last of his strength left him and the blade came down on his throat.

Something changed in Ghost's eyes in that moment, the blade digging into the flesh of his neck, though not deep enough to kill. The man above him was still save for his erratic breathing, hand gripping the knife whose tip had stopped just short of ending his life.

Ghost seemed to slowly come back to himself, back to the man Soap knew. With this return came a look a confusion, which then turned to horror. "Bloody hell...," he whispered out, looking down at his Johnny below him, bleeding out from his blade.

He seemed to then realize that he still had said blade in his hand and at Soap's throat. His entire body jerked, then he threw the knife away from him and into a snow drift. He stared down at him for a second before crawling off him.

Soap lay still, watching the entire time in case he tried attacking him again. There wasn't much he could do, he thought, he was definitely close to loosing consciousness. He jumped at the hand that grasped at his arm, pulling him up, looking up and meeting Ghost's eyes. When he looked into them he saw so much emotion it surprised him. Hurt, confusion, and a deep, all consuming, fear.

"I- I'm sorry Johnny," he stuttered, grabbing at his vest, seeming to check for more injurys. "I don't know...I don't- I'm sorry." The last one was said with anguish, as if he were expressing grief. He was still confused and fearful, but his worry was back.

"Look... I don't know what just happened," Soap said, biting back a groan as he was forced into a sitting position, "but we can talk about it after we get out of here." Ghost seemed to collect himself a bit at his words, jumping to his feet and grabbing Soap's good arm to help him to his feet.

When he was finally on his feet, he almost went down again. He leaned into Ghost, having to unless he did want to take another dive into the snow. He looked up at the man who hooked his arm under his uninjured one, taking most of his weight, as he started moving forward.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When they made it to exfil, Price and Gaz quickly ran to their sides, taking Johnny from Ghost. He had passed out a quarter of mile before and had gone completely limp. Ghost was worried out his mind and consumed by guilt at what he'd done.

Even more so, his heart was clutched by fear. Fear over the fact that he had done this. He had hurt the man he loved. His greatest fears, his nightmares, had come true.

They bandaged him up well enough to get him back to base. The ride seemed like a never ending horror to Ghost. He didn't speak the entire way back, even when Price had asked him what the hell happened.

His mind was reeling at his actions, disgusted and feeding his thoughts of What if he dies? It would be my fault.

Needless to say, when they finally touched down, it was a race to medical. Ghost didn't leave his side until he was forced out by the medical staff. He was given his own look over, but wasn't conscious of it. He was still consumed of visions. Visions of Johnny dead, a knife burried in his throat, him cold and still on an opporating table.

When he was released, he went to stand outside the door of the surgery where they were working on Johnny's arm. His eyes were locked on Johnny's face, the slack, pale, beautiful expanse of it. He chest was moving up and down with each breath, but Ghost could only see his face.

Notes:

I had an original ending that was quite shit, so I've decided to leave cliff hanger for now, just until I get the second part done. So, let me know what you think and please remember that this is my first story and I have much more (read better) coming soon. Comment, comment!