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The noise in the mess hall had always been a problem for Ghost, the new recruits and their COs voices getting mixed into his ears was always an overwhelming experience. His eyes would search the whole place, looking at so many familiar faces, Ghost thought that he could deal with his annoyance later.
"What is wrong? If it's too much for you, we can leave." Comes Soap's voice in a gentle tone.
Ghost looks at him, letting his eyes examine every little piece of that beautiful man in front of him. The kind blue eyes, the little furrow in his brows and the soft smile he always offered when he was worried. Ghost always thought Soap worried too much about others, is what made him so reckless in the field; Soap always forgot to look after himself, his mind always focused on the people surrounding him.
"There are pickles in my sandwich. " Ghost murmured watching the scotsman's face softening.
"That's no good, eh? You can have mine, I'll eat yours." Soap says, letting out a small laugh. "I don't mind the pickles and a big lad such as you needs to eat properly." He explains, resting a hand on Ghost's shoulder.
Ghost looks at the sandwich Soap is handing him and then lifts his gaze up to meet Soap's again. His eyes widening at the sight of pale skin and dark circles, his heart starts to race instantly.
“Johnny?” his voice doesn't leave his mind, the panic slowly spreading through himself. Soap still looking at him with the same gentle expression, making sure Ghost was okay. Ghost can hear his own breathing, loud, almost gasping for air as Soap's skin continues to lose color.
"Johnny!?" Ghost's voice comes out louder than expected, all the attention is turned to him now.
"I'm right here, no need to yell!" Soap laughs but no sound comes out of him, instead two traces of blood come down his lips.
"Johnny why are you bleeding?" Ghost holds his face with both hands looking for clues, a visible injury or bullet wound. Anything.
"Oh i think you know very well, Simon."
Johnny grinned wildly, his eyes were opaque as more and more parts of him started to bleed, Ghost tried his best to contain the bleeding; his hands shaking at the sight of more bullets wounds. Then a shiver came down his spine as he heard the sound of laughter.
All the other soldiers were laughing at him as he held Soap, now unconscious, in his arms. His breathing was unstable and all he could do was beg for help, pride didn't matter, but Johnny? Oh Johnny was his whole life and he would die before he had to see him go in such a terrible way.
Air entered Ghost's lungs aggressively as he sat on the bed panting, he yanked the balaclava off his head and searched for that familiar source of warmth and safety he got so damn used to. His eyes were barely focusing when his hands met a cold piece of metal instead of Johnny's warm, and alive, body.
Ghost felt light headed and suddenly the air wasn't occupying his lungs anymore, his fingers' tips were touching a dog tag spread in the mattress where Johnny was supposed to be. He took a deep breath and slowly took the dog tag in his hands, feeling the cold of it's chain hitting the bare skin of his arms.
“John MacTavish”
Ghost looked around the bedroom, anything that could indicate that somehow Soap just forgot his tag in the bed. He was fine, right? Soap could only be fine, because Ghost always had his back; no matter how reckless or selfless the scotsman were, Ghost would be there paying full attention to every one of his movements, he would guarantee Soap would return to the base right by his side. He would listen to that thick scottish accent coming in the comms just to tell him something he saw on his way to a mission.
He wouldn't let Johnny go, no. Ghost had his back, he always did.
“Go Simon, it's not worth it.”
Ghost could hear him through the mess of explosions and gun shots, hell he would've heard Soap's words even if the world was ending around them, and it in a way, it was happening.
They went through separate ways, Ghost couldn't watch over Soap this time. He heard his unit call for back up, he thought about joking about it when they went back to the base. Simon Riley was a man used to losses, he had lost so much he disappeared giving his place to Ghost and living through the eyes of the feared masked man. However, neither of them was prepared for that loss.
Not Soap, not his Johnny.
Ghost had his eyes on the target, shooting them down was easily but the content flew out of him the second his eyes landed on Johnny's body. He could see blood but couldn't tell who it was from, not that it mattered, Ghost would get Johnny and they'd both get out of there as they did million times before. Except it wasn't a simple injury, the blood loss fogged Johnny's eyes and senses, he kept calling for Simon and reaching his hand to touch him but giving up the second Ghost got close.
Simon was beautiful and he had enough blood in his hands, he didn't deserved to be stained with even more. No matter how much Jhon longed for his touch he didn't wish to become another crushing weight for the man he loved so much, just seeing him as his vision slowly got blurred was enough. He hoped, at least.
Oh and Simon made him so many promises, but Johnny knew the end is just not something you can post pond. He didn't saw a light as the movies promised, but he saw his light in the form of that cocky british soldier with a terrible sense of humor and a big heart - one that he had lied about being cold.
Maybe it wasn't the vision he'd expect a few years back when he realized that in this field, the most common way of retirement was death, but now he knew how to appreciate it. He had Simon Riley's eyes on him, those beautiful expressive eyes of his.
"Go Simon, it's not worth it." Johnny tried to smile.
"I'm not leaving you." Simon kissed his forehead. "I've seen you get out of worst situations, Sgt. MacTavish. Don't die on me now, yeah?" Their eyes met for a second, it wasn't enough.
The CO's voice came through the comms, they told him to retreat, to leave Johnny behind. But Simon Riley was a dead man and he would've burned the world before letting John MacTavish join him in his grave.
Ghost's steps took him silently to the medbay, he couldn't help. Even if he knew it wasn't time for visits, he just had to check, make sure that he was still there.
That he was still breathing.
The nurses he encountered pretended not to see him, the perks of being the feared Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley. The hallway still had that cold and lonely feeling from when he sat there for hours waiting for them to confirm if Johnny was gonna make it or no; the doorknob still felt heavy with guilt. The whole place smelled like past mistakes, the consequences of letting a dead man dream about love.
Ghost all but burst through the door, his chest felt heavy and the oxygen didn't seem to find it's way to his lungs; the world stopped as the sounds of the heartbeat monitor filled his ears. His eyes landed on the body layed on that bed, the eyes closed softly as if he was just taking a nap; the reality being way harsher than that: Johnny hadn't opened his eyes, or moved any muscle for that matter, in months.
With each step the guilt pulled Ghost down, making he sit by Johnny's bed, the relief slowly making it's way through his stubborn mind. Soap was still here, he didn't leave and he wouldn't leave. Ghost was sure he was fighting a battle to stay in their world, Johnny still had a chance and he would never waste it.
Simon took Johnny's hand with both of his, it was so cold and it made his chest hurt. Johnny was always shoving his hands in Simon's hoodie pockets saying his hands would only feel warm if Simon was holding them; now they seemed to reject the warmth coming from Simon's body. The room was too cold, as any medical facility always is, but Johnny really didn't like the cold and that should be enough for them to make his room warmer.
But then again, Johnny couldn't say a word about it, he layed there silently, slowly opening cracks in Simon's heart. Johnny taught a dead man how to dream and left him with a hopeful broken heart.
The silent room suddenly felt too overwhelming, he missed hearing Johnny babbling about random subjects, laughing about whatever. Oh god, if one really existed, how he missed hearing the sound of Johnny's laugh filling up the room and warming him from inside out, the pure joy that would shine in his light blue eyes and the little scrunch in his nose. Johnny was welcoming and safe as the morning sun, his warmth would embrace Simon gently, never going to far or crossing any lines.
Simon always thought he liked silence more than anything, he preserved his peace and never got that close to anyone, but now looking at Johnny and not hearing him say a word brought a crushing realization to his mind. Simon may like having his peace, but he didn't liked the silence that much, he was just too used to it; after all he was a feared lieutenant, quiet always followed him until that energetic scottish sergeant made his way to his heart. Simon hated how quiet this room was now, he longed for that thick accent and the scottish words Johnny would throw in the middle of his sentences just to mess with Simon.
At this moment he would take anything, anything that wasn't that damn machine noise. Even a louder breath would put his heart at ease, he just needed Johnny to show him he could keep going and that eventually they would meet again along the way.
His line of thought being interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door being opened and revealing a very tired looking Captain Price, he gave Ghost a empathetic look before sighing.
"C'mon son, you know you can't be here right now." Price tilted his head, indicating that they had to leave.
Ghost got up, still holding Johnny's hand as he leaned to press a kiss in his forehead. He wasn't a religious man, hell, he couldn't even say if he was still human, but in that moment he let a silent pray. Anything to get Johnny back, anything to feel that loving touch again.
Ghost kissed Johnny's knuckles before placing his hand back into the bed and walk away. He kept his eyes staring foward but let his mind continue standing by Johnny's side, in other times he'd thought that caring for someone that much could be a deadly weakness, but now he could see how much strength Johnny gave him just by staying on his side and letting his comforting warmth wrap Simon with a gentleness he had long forgot it existed.
Ghost left the room, leaving Johnny in his sleep, not in time to catch the twitch in the hand he was holding a few minutes ago.