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A strong gust of wind shook the building of the hotel. Signs of a great hotel were the doors slamming every once and a while, loud footsteps down the hall, screaming and yelling, and the sound of the old building resting.
Shepherd never gave a damn about how safe the hotels we stayed at were; hell, he would stuff us in a cardboard box on the streets next to a bustling highway if he could.
The only redeeming part of this hotel were the cheap vending machines that probably hadn’t been restocked since 2005. Fresh, crisp water; soda that tastes like electric, radioactive piss; stale potato chips; hard, minty gum; they had everything.
What was more to love about Cleveland fucking Ohio?
Soap had heard of America being incredible, a dream, so beautiful that you’d cry, shit yourself, and then stab your roommate.
Yeah, no. What was this?
This was the most bored he’d ever been while stationed. Well, not really *Stationed*, more like, told to come on a short notice, with no barracks available. They couldn’t even go out on the town because it was so fucking boring. So, Soap would stand in the small hotel hallways, chugging down a can of soda, thinking about his entire life and every decision that came up to this. Being bored out of his mind, he would usually stare off into space, eyeing the wall, maybe even getting out his earbuds and listening to a few songs. It calmed him; made him not stress so much.
It was pretty nice.
It was also a warm night.
The humidity was up pretty high, and Soap was out in the hallway again, earbuds in, drinking a can of soda. The hotel was warm, despite being ‘air conditioned’.
Oh yeah. That was one thing Soap liked about America.
AC was nice.
Back to the point; The hotel was hot as hell. Soap was sweating. It was gross. His room was a bit better, though he didn’t want to go annoy the Lieutenant with his thrashing about, throwing covers around the room.
Maybe he could just crash on the floor and it would be fine. Yeah. Yup. Perfect.
With a loud sigh, Soap pushed himself up off the wall. Now he felt old; how was it so fucking hard to push himself off a wall? Perhaps he was just tired. It was like… 3 in the morning at that point.
Walking down the hall, he turned into the encaved part where their door sat. For a second, he just sat there, blinking tiredly. Fucking hell, it was hard to even stay awake now. Were they putting fucking drugs in those sodas?
One thing that stood out was the soft sound of heaving breathing and mumbling in the room.
Not thinking anything of it, Soap muttered a, “Lt, if yer’ jackin’ off, I swear…”
With the key in hand, he unlocked the door and turned the knob, opening the door slowly.
Well, thankfully, he hadn’t walked in on Ghost having some naughty naughty fun times. He had, however, walked into him having a flashback.
“Lt?”
No response. Soap let the door close, making sure it locked, before hurrying to Ghost’s side. He wasn’t saying anything anymore, just quietly sobbing to himself.
“Lt, yer’ havin’ a flashback, c’mon.”
Ghost’s fingers gripped the thin hotel bed sheets, “Johnny.” he murmured, “Fuck, what do I do? Johnny?”
Soap’s breath hitched, his body shaking, “Can I touch ye?”
Before even a second passed, Ghost had nodded. Quickly, but he nodded. It seemed horrifying to be in his place.
“Alright…” Soap’s hands moved in front of himself, scared to make a wrong move, scared of hurting him, “I’m gonna pull yer’ balaclava up just a bit so you can breathe better...”
Ghost’s hands gripped the bedding tighter, even more desperate for help, “Take it off. Please. I can’t fuckin’ stand it. Not now.”
Soap’s heart ached as he did so, lifting the mask up and taking it off completely. Ghost was completely shaken, his hair was awry from it being stuffed under the mask all night, but more important than that, his eyes were puffy, and there were tear stains on his cheeks. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with every quick breath on his lips. Ghost seemed to be staring at the ground; just the ground. That’s how it had been the very, very few previous times that this had happened, staring off into space or completely covering his eyes. As he thought to himself, Soap’s hands traveled to Ghost’s arms, and then rested on his shoulders.
“Breathe with me, Sir.”
Ghost leaned into the touch, his body still shaking as he took deep, long breaths, trying to hold himself together.
“I remember every single second.” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible.
Soap’s heart broke even more, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’s alright now, yer’ not there anymore.”
“And they’re all dead.” he said quietly, “My entire family is fucking dead.”
Soap stayed quiet, he wasn’t sure how to respond or even help with that one. It was the second time that Ghost had ever said something like that and Soap didn’t know how to help, or what to say when that was brought up. Once, it was said as a joke during a mission together, now…
“I’ll be here, always.” Soap whispered, pulling Ghost closer to him, “I’ll be yer’ family.”
There was a silence in the room. Ghost didn’t even seem to breathe, and in turn, neither did Soap. All that could be heard was the AC running loudly and the sounds of nightlife outside their window. Great. He had fucked up bad.
He began to apologize profusely, removing his hands from Ghost’s body, “I’m sorry Lt, I didn’t mean to say that, I’m so sorry, that was so inappropriate of me,-“ but the weight of the other man’s head resting in the crook of his neck shut him up quick.
Neither said anything for a few minutes, but Soap’s arms had found themselves back on Ghost, wrapped around his shoulders securely, holding him closely.
The silence was nice. It was the most intimate moment the two had shared before. Soap knew that he truly was the only person that Ghost would ever trust enough to be in this position with, let alone even cry in front of, and that’s what made the moment so special; trust. He didn’t know how it started, or how it kept going, but Soap was grateful for it. If you went to Soap a few months ago and said, “Your Lieutenant is now the closest person you have in your life”, he would've never believed you, hell, he’d laugh right in your face.
It felt as if Soap’s arms held the entire world in them, and they did. They held his entire world. He was with the man whom he had grown to care so deeply for, and he held him close. No matter what happened, he would always be by his side, protecting him and giving him a shoulder to lean on.
After what seemed an eternity, they finally pulled away, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling gently.
“We should get back to sleep. Do ye’ need water? A snack?” Soap asked, his voice still hushed.
Ghost shook his head, “Thank you, though.”
Soap began to get up from the side of the bed, but then turned back, his hand resting on top of Ghost’s.
“It’s done with, right?” he asked, “Completely?”
Ghost’s hand covered Soap’s, “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
They both shuffled around in the bed, throwing blankets and messing with the pillows until both were comfortable and cozy. The streets below were still bustling and loud, and sirens still sounded. Checking his phone on the nightstand, Soap realized that it was nearing 4 AM.
Damn.
He rolled back over, into his Lieutenant’s arms, and sighed deeply. Thoughts raced through his mind, realizations, questions, concerns, but at the same time, all he could care about right now was Ghost (and those damn vending machines). He hoped the rest of the night would be fine, and if he could say, the rest of the week. Tonight was the first ever night that Ghost had been so vulnerable with him, he had only seen him cry a few times before, and even then it was always a few tears before he would wipe them away and try to carry on.
“You better sing me a lullaby, Johnny.”
And… Ghost was back to his normal self. Sort of. He could still hear the roughness of his voice, and the sniffling of his nose, even the rustling of his balaclava being put back on.
And so, after one round of Soap mumble-singing Jock O’Hazeldean, Ghost had fallen back asleep, and Soap was damn near there, if it weren’t for his mind being so awake, he would’ve already been asleep halfway through the song.
But, alas, he found a way to sleep. Snuggled up in the arms of his… friend. Arms and legs starfished across the bed, all blankets kicked down to his legs, and he swore it was the most comfortable he had been in ages.
When morning came, the other side of the bed still radiated Ghost’s body warmth, though he was in the bathroom getting ready. He heard his phone “Ping!” with a message, but hell, you’d have to pay him to get up and roll over at that point.
And yes, did have a very nice view of Ghost’s bare back as he dug through his suitcase for a shirt.