Actions

Work Header

What If The Clouds Run Out Of Rain?

Summary:

Part 3 of the series

Soap decides that it's time for Ghost to meet his family, and, like usual, things don't go as expected

(You mostly don't need to read the previous 2 parts to understand this, although some parts may be confusing)

Notes:

Part 3 time!!

This one is a bit angstier than the other two parts, so make sure you read the tags. I may be writing a part 4 of this series but nothing is confirmed yet.

Enjoy!

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

Work Text:

“Yer gonna be fine Simon, they don’t bite. Well, Abbie might, but that’s neither here nor there,”

 

Somehow the words did not reassure him. The drive from Johnny’s small apartment in central Glasgow to the more suburban areas on the outskirts was only around 20 minutes. But that was long enough for anxiety to pool in Simon’s gut, leaving him fidgety and restless in the passenger seat.

 

They had been on leave for a week now and had around a week and a half left before they were being shipped back to base along with the rest of the 141 for a mission in Guatemala. And for the first time in his military career, Ghost wasn’t spending his leave alone, wallowing in his apartment. No, he had spent the last week surrounded by everything to do with Johnny. From seeing both pairs of boots set neatly next to the door, to waking up with the man’s head on his bare chest, Simon felt at home. He had come to realise that he considered Johnny his family. He considered all the 141 a family of sorts, but Johnny was different.

 

And that was why he was currently clenching and unclenching his fists in the passenger seat of their rental car. Johnny had decided that it was time for Simon to meet his family, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to fuck up.

 

Despite Johnny constantly reassuring him, Simon knew that he wasn’t built for civilian life. He was too tall, too muscled, too scarred, and too military to ever blend in with civvies. Johnny didn’t exactly blend in either, but at least he didn’t look uncomfortably out of place all the time.

 

So, something as mundane and normal as meeting your partner’s parents seemed completely foreign to him. What was he even supposed to say? Was he meant to prove something to them? What was the goal here? He felt like the universe had neglected to give him the script to this particular scene.

 

Before he had time to spiral anymore, they had parked outside of the house. Three cars were already packed into the driveway, so Johnny had pulled the car up on the street. The house was sizeable, with a well-tended garden and a birdbath which had frozen over. It was all so domestic. Simon tore his gaze away from the house and instead focused on the small kids park on the other side of the road. It had obviously been refurbished, with a large, shiny metal climbing frame starring as the centrepiece, but a few old bits of equipment were also scattered around, including a slide with chipped, peeling paint.

 

Johnny was looking at him, but Simon just stared at his lap, where he was knocking his knuckles against his thighs.

“It’s gonna be alright Simon, if anything happens, we can leave straight away, alright? If you need to leave and can’t tell me, just squeeze my hand three times and I’ll get us out of there, okay?” Johnny said, placing a hand on Ghost’s arm.

Simon’s heart twisted at the fact that Johnny had thought to give him a nonverbal way out. Words seemed to fail him at the best of times, but in high stress situations he could often barely choke out a normal sentence, unless it was the familiar emotionlessness of orders barked through the comms.

“Affirmative,” he nodded, and Johnny smiled.

“Alright, ready L.t?” Johnny asked, unbuckling his seatbelt, and swinging the car door open.

Ghost nodded and did the same.

 

Simon rocked nervously on his heels as Johnny knocked on the door. He felt far too exposed. Johnny had told him that he could wear his balaclava if he needed to, but Simon had chosen to go with a simple black face mask instead. It covered up his face at least partially, while also making him look normal. Still, he missed the weight of his gun, despite the knife he had strapped to his thigh under his trousers. Before he could consider simply running for the hills, the door opened.

“Took ye long enough to get here,” said the woman standing on the other side of the threshold. She looked just slightly older than Johnny, probably around Simon’s age. Abbie, his brain supplied helpfully. She pulled Johnny in for a hug, which he reciprocated.

“Traffic was shite as always,” Johnny huffed, kicking off his boots as he stepped inside. Simon followed his lead and shut the door behind them, the click of the latch making him feel as though he had just locked himself inside a cage.

“And you must be Ghost?” Abbie asked, nodding at Simon.

“Call me Simon,” he said, sticking out a hand to shake out of habit.

Abbie nodded and shook his hand. They had agreed to not mention to the family that Simon had technically met them all before, many years ago, but that didn’t stop the house, and even the people being familiar.

 

Simon was glad that Johnny had given him the option to go by his callsign, and he grabbed Johnny’s hand to quickly squeeze it in appreciation.

“Come on then, everyone’s been waiting for you John, it’s been more than a year,” Abbie said, leading the way through to the living room.

 

The house felt lived in. Photographs lined the walls and various paintings were also hung up around the house. A picture of Johnny in his full military dress uniform caught Ghost’s eye, an addition from last time.

 

Soon the hallway opened into a large living room space combined with a kitchen off to one side. Johnny’s family were sat on couches and in armchairs around a crackling fire. Johnny had reminded him who everyone was beforehand, and Simon had no trouble picking them out. Johnny’s mother and father were easy to spot, his father sitting in an armchair right beside the fireplace, a cane leaning on the chair besides him. His mother stood up to greet them, rushing up to Johnny to plant a kiss on his cheek, despite his protests. Clara, the oldest sibling was curled up on a loveseat next to her husband, Elliot. The kids Johnny had informed him of were nowhere to be found.

“Oh! And of course, you’re Simon, John’s told us so much about ye,” Sophia, Soap’s mother said, moving away from her son to stand in front of him.

“All good things I hope,” he said, slightly uncomfortably.

“Of course, dear, he practically raves about you,” Sophia said.

“And that’s enough of this conversation!” Johnny said loudly. “Where are the kids?”

“Upstairs, I’ll go and get them,” Elliot said, standing and moving out of the room to retrieve the children.

 

The rest of the group settled back to their seats, Simon and Johnny taking a couch to themselves. Johnny subtly leaned against Simon, his heat and weight grounding the taller man.

“So, John, seems that you unfortunately didn’t get blown up, but did anything else exciting happen while ye were gone for a year?” Abbie asked.

“Ye know that’s classified Abs, but I didn’t get hurt too bad which is always a win,”

“Except from when you got shot,” Ghost muttered, but his voice carried through the room.

“You were what?!” Sophia exclaimed. “John Robert MacTavish!”

Simon winced slightly. Had he already messed up? Sophia was obviously mad. Fuck, they probably hated him already.

 

It was at that moment that the pounding of tiny feet could be heard echoing throughout the house.

“Saved by the bell,” Abbie whistled.

Three children burst into the room, and Soap stood up to greet them as they collided with his legs, shouts of ‘Uncle John!’ coming from all three.

Abbie’s son, Jacob, was the youngest of the lot at 5 years old, and he was currently clinging to Johnny’s trouser leg, jumping around as Soap leaned down to scoop him up. Clara’s two girls, Elodie and Rosie were 8 and 6 respectively, and were equally as excited to see their uncle.

 

Simon felt himself smile as Johnny put Jacob down, only for all three kids to immediately go for his knees, causing him to topple to the ground and promptly be pinned by children clambering all over him. Elodie was kneeling on his chest in a position that looked far from comfortable for Johnny with a wild grin on her face.

“We caught you! We got you fair and square!” she beamed, pointing at Johnny.

“You did El Bell, you got me,” he said.

“Alright guys, let Uncle John breathe,” Clara laughed lightly.

The kids scrambled off Johnny, who pushed himself up to his knees. Then, Rosie caught sight of Simon. She moved quickly to stand behind Johnny with a small gasp, clinging to his jacket. Elodie and Jacob also caught sight of him, Jacob having a similar reaction of fear, but Elodie was unperturbed.

“Who’s that?” she asked loudly, pointing at Simon.

“Elodie! It's rude to point,” Sophia scolded, and Elodie grumbled an apology.

“That’s yer Uncle Simon, he might look a bit scary, but he’s a softie really,” Johnny whispered to the kids, and Simon scowled.

“Are you a superhero like Uncle John?” asked Jacob, his eyes lighting up now that he knew Ghost was nothing to fear. Simon looked at Johnny questioningly, and Johnny shot him a look that told him to just play along.

“Uh, yeah, sure kid,” he said.

Elodie had jumped up onto the couch besides him and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“I know you’re not really superheros, but Jacob is only five and he doesn’t know what the army is,” she said like it was some grand secret.

“What’s your superhero name then?” Jacob demanded.

“Ghost,” Simon replied, hoping that’s what the kid meant, and was pleased with himself when Jacob’s eyes lit up.

“Alright, how about we give Uncle Simon a moment of peace,” Abbie said, and the kids reluctantly retreated.

 

Johnny looked up at his dad, who hadn’t said a word the entire time they’d been in the house.

“Dad,” he said tersely, nodding slightly.

“John,” his dad replied, equally as coolly.

Ghost wasn’t sure what was going on between Johnny and his father, but Johnny looked uncomfortable. Thankfully Sophia broke the awkward silence.

 

“I’d best finish up making tea, would anyone like to help?” she asked, standing up and glancing around the room.

“We’ll help Ma,” Johnny said, standing up and gesturing for Simon to follow suit.

“John, I really don’t want to have another fire, but I’d appreciate Simon’s help,” she said.

“It was one time!” Johnny exclaimed, but Sophia still brushed him off and led Simon into the kitchen.

He was nervous that it was going to be some kind of shovel talk but was relieved when Sophia merely set him to work chopping vegetables.

“I’m glad John’s got ye,” she said, breaking the steady silence, “I worry about him, and even if it doesn’t seem like it, Robert does too. But it helps to know that he’s got someone to look after him,”

Simon wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, and he almost fumbled on the knife at her words.

“Johnny looks after me as well. He makes me feel- well, he makes me feel human again,” he stared intently at the carrot in his hands while he said it, refusing to let the blush creeping into his cheeks show.

“I’m sorry about my husband, I swear to ye that he doesn’t dislike ye, I think he was still secretly hopeful that John would bring home a girlfriend, only son and all that,” Sophia was frowning when Simon looked up at her, but quickly wiped it off her expression when she saw him watching.

 

Simon was saved from more conversation when Elodie burst into the kitchen.

“Uncle Simon! Uncle John says that yer stronger than him, but you’ve gotta prove it or it doesn’t count,” she said, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie. Simon glanced back at Sophia nervously, he didn’t want to go if she still needed him.

“Go on lad,” she said with a smile, shooing them both out of the kitchen.

Simon let Elodie drag him back to the living room, where Soap was currently sat next to the coffee table, grinning at him.

“Up for an arm wrestle L.t?” he said, setting his elbow on the table.

“You’re on Sergeant,” Ghost settled himself across from Johnny at the small table, and linked their hands, gripping tighter than was strictly necessary. Elodie stood at the head of the table. She gave them a quick countdown, and they began.

 

For the first minute they were evenly matched, neither man moving an inch or breaking a sweat, but Simon was quick to put a burst of energy into his arm which caused Johnny’s eyes to widen as his hand inched towards the tabletop. The kids were cheering them on. Simon finally managed to pin Johnny’s arm to the table, and the kids applauded him.

“And I win again, might need to recommend some strength training for to you Price, eh Sergeant?” Simon teased, grinning under the mask, and Johnny shot him a glare, before an idea seemed to pop into his head.

“It’s alright Si, I know yer weakness,” he said with a smirk, propping his arm back on the table.

Simon quirked an eyebrow at him but linked hands again anyway. They started to wrestle, but this time, Johnny leaned quickly over the table and kissed to Simon’s mask, right over his mouth. The warm pressure of Johnny’s lips against his caused his brain to momentarily short circuit, and Johnny quickly pinned his arm. Instead of cheers from the kids, they all groaned and yelled and covered their eyes in mock disgust.

“Ew!” Rosie yelled, covering her eyes. “Gross!”

“Not as gross as when ma and da do it, but that’s still yucky Uncle John,” Elodie said, and Johnny just grinned and shrugged at her.

“Maybe one day yer gonna have someone to kiss, and ye won’t think its gross then,” he said.

“Never!” Elodie said indignantly.

“Uncle John?” asked Rosie hesitantly.

“Yeah, Rose Pose?” Johnny asked, settling down smugly on the carpeted floor.

“Do you love Uncle Simon?” she asked, glancing between them.

Johnny and Simon turned to face each other, and Simon was nervous for a second that Johnny was hesitating. Did he not love him? Simon knew that he was… difficult, to love. He required so much more care and patience and time that the average partner, was that too much for Johnny? His fears were quickly assuaged by Johnny answering, never taking his eyes off Simon.

“More than anyone in the world,”

Simon’s eyes widened as he scanned Johnny’s face for any sign of a lie. He didn’t find it.

 

“Well, this is disgustingly sweet, but Ma needs help setting the table,” Abbie said, standing up and grabbing Johnny by the shoulder. Elliot stood up to help as well, and Simon made to follow, but stopped dead in his tracks when Clara spoke.

“Simon, could we just have a chat? Somewhere private?” she said, standing up and looking straight at him, her face showing no signs of fear despite her previously quiet nature. Simon nodded and followed her through the main hallway into an office space.

 

Simon’s mind was racing as she shut the door behind them with a resounding click. Had he made a mistake? Was she going to tell him to leave? This was a mistake, it was far better if Johnny’s family didn’t know he existed and could believe that their son was going to be with someone actually respectable.

 

Clara turned to face him and he shrank a little under her stony gaze. He was a giant of a man, at 6’4”, but her eyes made him feel small in that moment. He was surprised, however, when she sighed, her shoulder’s losing their tension and a small smile creeping onto her face.

“I can tell he loves ye. And you clearly love him back. He’s never let anyone call him Johnny before,” she said, leaning against the door.

Simon just nodded, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Clara’s stare turned darker for a moment.

“He’s still my baby brother, and I can’t always be there to protect him like I was as a kid. I need you to promise me that you’ll protect him for me,” she said earnestly.

“Johnny can take care of himself,” Simon said, slightly surprised.

“That he can, but we both know how much of a daft bastard he can be. Promise me Simon,” Clara laughed lightly.

“I promise,” Ghost nodded.

“Good,” and with that, Clara turned and walked out of the office to join the rest of the family for dinner.

Simon let out a breath, the tension leaking from his frame as he pressed his hands to his eyes. He had been convinced that he was about to get the shovel talk for the second time today, or at least be threatened, and was relieved that it hadn’t be that. He smiled lightly to himself. He had known that he was the only one on base that was permitted to call Soap Johnny, but he hadn’t been aware that it applied to his family as well.

 

He realised that he needed to join the family at the dinner table, and quickly made his way back along the hallway. Almost everyone was sat around the dining table already, with only Sophia trying to get the kids to wash their hands in the kitchen. Simon smiled when he saw that Johnny had saved him a seat next to him. He slid into his spot, slightly tense at everyone’s eyes automatically being drawn to him, but Johnny nudged his foot under the table with his own, which eased him slightly.

 

The food was soon dished out, a traditional Sunday roast with lamb. Neither Simon nor Johnny were particularly adept cooks, so they had mainly been living off meal kits and pasta back in Johnny’s apartment. It looked far better than that, and a thousand times better than any dining hall food or MRE. Everyone had already dished up their own food, and Johnny had made up Simon’s plate. His chest tightened when he saw that Johnny had taken the care to make sure none of the foods touched. They didn’t say grace, Johnny having informed him that the family was not particularly religious beforehand.

 

Everyone quickly dug in, and Simon encountered a problem he should have seen coming. The mask. Johnny seemed to notice as well, as he leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“We can go eat somewhere private if you want, or we can wait until we get home,” he said, rubbing a hand up Simon’s back reassuringly.

Simon knew that whatever he chose to do, Johnny would do it with him. On base he usually ate in his room or his or Price’s office, with Johnny or the Captain as company. But today, he felt surprisingly okay. He shook his head and reached up a hand to the facemask.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath before pulling it down under his chin. He cracked his eyes open to see most of the table looking at him, and he immediately looked down, his cheeks on fire. He was too scarred. The long scar running over his nose, or the one cutting through his eyebrow, or the large burn splashed across one of his cheeks, or even the small gash that tore open his lip, they were all too much. Too ugly. He heard Rosie whispering something to Johnny on his left.

“I agree Rose Pose, he is pretty,” he said, his hand resting on Simon’s thigh.

 

When he looked up, most of the party had gone back to their conversations, and those that hadn’t were looking at him with smiles. Elodie was beaming at him.

“Your scars are so cool! How did you get them?” the girl asked, leaning forward in her chair with a mouthful of mashed potato.

Ghost blanked. All his scars were from some kind of battle or training exercise, and a large percentage of them were from torture. He couldn’t exactly tell that to an eight-year-old kid, could he? He stared at his hands, trying to pick out one of his many scars that didn’t have a traumatising story to go with it.

 

Then, his eyes landed on the long line crossing his palm. He held up his hand and pointed to it. Johnny buried his face in his hands, knowing exactly where that scar was from.

“Well, one night your Uncle John and I were out with our team and a few friends. We uh, we probably drank more than we should, and decided to play catch with a knife,” he winced slightly. “It was a fifty-fifty chance whether you caught the handle or the blade, and I got unlucky, our Captain yelled at us for an hour straight,”

“I knew you were daft John, but I didn’t know you were that daft,” Abbie snorted.

“Hey! It wasn’t completely my idea!” Johnny shot back, and Abbie rolled her eyes.

 

Johnny and Simon finally got stuck into their food, their plates piled much higher than everyone else’s, Simon would’ve probably taken much less food and just been hungry. Perhaps that was part of the reason Johnny made up his plate for him. It was delicious, and both men’s eyes widened slightly before they started to practically inhale the meal.

“Easy lads,” Sophia laughed “Ye’d think they don’t feed you boys!”

“Well when you live off of MRE’s and dining hall crap, everything else is straight from God himself,” Johnny said through a mouthful, which Sophia scolded him gently for.

“What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever eaten?” Elodie asked.

“In the field? Probably rats and pigeons. When you run out of food and they’re everywhere, it’s a decent option,” Johnny explained, causing all three kids to explode into disgusted noises.

Elodie then turned to Simon for his answer, and he froze.

 

His mind flooded with all of the disgusting, vile things that had been forced down his throat during his torture. The food in front of him no longer looked appetising, and he could feel himself pale as he stared at the plate. Roba was forcing strips of flesh into his mouth, strips of flesh that he knew were cut from his fellow soldiers, or even from himself. A hand was clamped over his nose and mouth, unrelenting until he swallowed.

 

He couldn’t breathe, his lungs gasping for air through the flesh in his mouth, and the vile, metallic taste of blood coating his teeth and tongue.

 

Someone called for him, and Simon tried desperately to focus on the voice and the warm pressure around his chest and back. He gasped as he came to, with Johnny holding him tightly, his chest pressed to Simon’s back. Simon was glad that they are sitting on the cold tile of a bathroom floor when he quickly leaned towards the toilet and vomited into it.

 

Once he was done, he fell backwards into Johnny’s chest again, and his boyfriend immediately wrapped his arms around him, making soothing noises as Simon started to cry.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry. I fucked it all up, I’m so s-sorry,” he choked, furiously pawing at his cheeks to rid them of tears, irritating his skin.

“You have nothing to apologise for Si, you’re okay, you’ve done nothing wrong,” Johnny said, holding one of Simon’s hands tightly, the other pressed against his chest. Simon shook his head violently.

“No- made a scene, they hate me now,” he said through gasping breaths.

“Si, I need you to breath for me, okay? Can you copy me?” Johnny started taking exaggerated breaths, and Simon copied as best he could, apologising when he couldn’t quite manage. Still, Johnny coaxed him through it, waiting until Simon was breathing properly to speak.

“They don’t hate ye, Simon. Hell, if they hated me every time I had a breakdown or panic attack I’d be disowned by now. They love you Si, I’ve never seen Clara and Abbie so relaxed around my friends or partners, and ye can probably tell that my Ma practically considers ye a second son already. And of course, the kids love you,” Johnny gushed.

Simon couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t refer to his father. But the words still made him feel better.

 

Once Johnny had convinced him to drink a few mouthfuls of water from the tap, Simon tugged his mask back over his nose and followed Johnny out of the bathroom, holding his hand. The rest of the family had cleared up dinner, and Simon felt a stab of regret that they didn’t get down more of it. He was shoved out of his thoughts by Jacob crashing into his legs, and Elodie grabbing Johnny by the hand.

“Come on! Its snowing!” she yelled, dragging them towards the front door.

Simon peered out the window to see that there was indeed a thick layer of snow coating the ground, with more falling from the sky. The kids were already bundled up in oversized coats, gloves, and woollen hats.

“Alright, alright, let us get our boots,” Johnny said with a laugh.

He grabbed both of their boots from beside the door and threw Simon his pair. He tugged them on and grabbed his coat, before Jacob and Rosie grabbed one of his hands each, Elodie grabbing Johnny, and dragging the two men outside. Abbie, Clara and Elliot were watching from the front porch, cradling mugs of coffee and laughing as Johnny and Simon were dragged into the snow.

“Have fun boys!” called Abbie, sticking her tongue out at Johnny, who promptly flipped her off.

The five of them reached the park on the other side of the road, and Elodie quickly ran to gather up a handful of snow and hit Johnny square in the chest with a snowball.

“Oh, yer in for it now,” Johnny said, gathering up his own snowball and starting to chase Elodie around the park. Simon laughed at him until a snowball from Rosie hit him, and he too started to throw snowballs (albeit gently) at the kids.

“Watch this,” he said to Rosie and Jacob, gathering up a large snowball and aiming it straight for Johnny’s head. The man in question had stopped to adjust his jacket, and Simon’s knife throwing prowess translated surprisingly well to snowball fights as he hit Johnny squarely on the side of the head. Jacob and Rosie cheered and were quickly pelted with snow from Elodie and Johnny.

 

Soon, Elodie had turned on Johnny, and Simon grinned as all three kids chased Johnny around the park, throwing snowballs at him.

 

He could get used to this.

 

He could get used to having a family again.

Notes:

just so you know Sophia gave them a ton of leftovers so our boys didn't have to live off their shitty cooking for a week and a half lol

Series this work belongs to: