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“You know you don’t need to sneak around, right?” Soap asked, question clipped by a yawn.
Ghost spun around, his torso hiding the kettle and mug on the counter, steam billowing behind him. He relaxed, seeing it was just Soap, and he went back to making his tea.
“Not sneaking, Soap, just didn’t want to wake anybody.” He countered, dousing the tea bag in his mug with hot water. He normally preferred something nicer for himself, but he would have to settle for the barracks' poor excuse for tea for now, since he had run out of his personal supply.
“And what is it called when you’re walking around extra quietly so as to not wake up anyone?” Johnny asked, voice still thick with sleep, his accent making the words somehow heavier in the air.
“Courtesy.” Came Ghost’s simple and quick answer, to which Soap rolled his eyes, making his way to where Ghost was hunched over the counter.
“Why’re you up so late?” Soap pushed, and Ghost hummed. Did he really want to tell Soap? Was he really going to? After the nightmare he had it felt impossible not to, he could still feel the blood fresh on his hands, even after standing over the mess hall sink and scrubbing for minutes on end.
“Nightmares. Just wanted a tea, usually helps,” Ghost summarized, his voice leaving unevenly and in a bit of a higher pitch. He was clearly very uncomfortable, and it took immense effort for the words to make their way out.
“Oh.” Was all John responded with. He watched as Ghost shrugged, fixing his tea with two sugars and a dash of cream. “Always knew you had a sweet tooth,” Soap teased, and Ghost let out a grunt, clearly still not in the mood to joke.
Ghost finally turned around from the counter, resting on it as he drank his tea. Soap pushed himself up on the counter, sitting on it next to him.
“Just going to sit there?” Ghost asked, his voice back to gruff and closed off. Soap gave a half frown.
“Keeping my LT company a crime now?” He asked, and Ghost hummed, before shaking his head. Whether it was an actual answer to Soap’s question or just a fond ‘you’re an idiot’, he didn’t know.
The silence stretched on a moment longer, and Ghost felt like it was crushing him. Still, Soap spoke up first.
“D’ya want to talk about it?” Ghost actually let out a bark of a laugh, as loud as was appropriate while everyone else was asleep.
“God no,” Came his simple response, and Soap huffed, deflating a little.
“No need to laugh, Ghost, just askin’ if ya..”
He was cold, lying on the dirt floor.
“Soap?”
He ran, sliding on his knees to reach him, only to feel that he was cold.
“Johnny!”
He checked if he was breathing, felt for a pulse… barely there…
“...Ghost…” Came the raspy reply, and Johnny smiled before Simon watched light fade from his eyes, along with any hope Ghost had left.
“Ghost!” Soap was in front of him, grabbing his arms, grounding him. “Where’d you go, big guy?” He asked, his voice even again, low. Ghost blinked, trying to remember where he was…
The mess hall. He’s drinking… he was drinking tea… where did his tea go?
He looked around the room, and his eyes moved to the floor… his mug was shattered against the linoleum, and he could see that his chest was rising and falling a lot faster than he remembered.
“Hey, hey, eyes up here, Simon,” Johnny moved a hand to his chin, tapping to get him to look up again. Ghost fought the urge to grab his wrist, to push him off. “There you are,” Soap sighed, and he backed off a bit. Ghost was grateful, but a part of him missed the warmth already.
He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He quietly grabbed the pieces of the mug, tossing them and cleaning up the now wasted tea. He was glad it was the shoddy tea bags and not his loose leaf.
“Simon…” Johnny wanted to ask him if he was okay, wanted to make sure he was back in the mess hall with him, not wherever his brain had taken him.
Ghost shook his head, and once he had tossed the last of the paper towels he stood in front of Johnny before leaning forward, letting his forehead rest on Soap’s. He was alive. He was alive and warm, right here, right next to him.
“You want to head back to your room?” Soap asked, and Simon looked down at him. He tugged John’s hand, hoping that was invitation enough, and the Scot smiled. “I’ll come with ya, c’mon,” He led the way, dragging Simon to his own room.
They entered together, Simon still silent and Johnny hoping that he could navigate this without too much floundering. Sink or swim, right?
“You want to lay down? You should and try to rest,” John asked, and Simon nodded. He still looked a little out of it, and it took Johnny a moment before he thought of something to ground Simon, hopefully something he wouldn’t throw Johnny off for. He waited until Simon laid down, and John smiled at him. “I want to try something, it might help keep you grounded, aye?” John asked, and Simon blinked a few times before nodding.
“What is it?” He asked, his voice low and quiet, the rasp not nearly as apparent, his voice wispy instead.
“You get comfy however you want, and I just lay my weight on top of you, like a weighted blanket,” John explained, and Simon raised an eyebrow. Johnny sighed. “I used to need the weight as a kid, helped me stay in my body and outta my brain, now get comfy.” John explained, and Simon shrugged, moving to lay on his stomach, stretching out his shoulders and neck. “Good?” John checked, and Simon gave him a thumbs up from where his arm was thrown up above his head and pillow.
John smiled, and he gently placed himself over Simon, pressing his chest to his back and just relaxing on top of him, slowly letting his weight all but crush the man. He heard Simon let out a sigh, and he reached a hand up to balance himself a little on Ghost’s arm.
“That better?” Johnny whispered, and Simon nodded, letting himself relax a little more. John could feel the man under him sink further into the mattress, and he adjusted himself a little to rebalance. He couldn’t be a good weighted blanket if he wasn’t weighing anything down.
Simon grumbled something, and it was half-incomprehensible, but Johnny strained to hear anyway.
“You say somethin’, Simon?” Johnny pressed, lifting his head up a little. He felt an arm pull him to the side slightly, and Simon easily flipped himself around, laying Soap back on his chest. Now chest to chest, Johnny looked up to see Simon, who looked on the verge of sleep. He watched as he debated something in his head, his eyes flicking between both of Soap’s before he sighed.
Johnny watched in one swift movement as Simon ripped his mask off, laying his head back so John could only really see his chin, and he pressed Soap’s head back to his chest, almost forcibly motorboating the man.
“I said ‘thanks’, Johnny,” Simon sighed, releasing his tight grip on the back of Soap’s head as he realized he wasn’t resisting.
“‘Course, Simon. If you ever need a weighted blanket, you know where to find me.” Johnny joked, keeping his head on Simon’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he fell asleep.
It was the best sleep either had, and when they woke up in the same position in the morning, neither wanted to move.
“C’mon, LT, why can’t you just call Price or somethin’, tell him you need today off,” Johnny complained, still laying fully on Simon’s chest.
“Johnny, you know I’d have to go and tell him in his office, and I’d need a good reason. And what about you?” Ghost countered, and Soap’s cackle could be heard through Simon’s chest.
“I already have today off, Ghost. You really can’t call him or something? Why don’t I ring Gaz, tell him to tell Price you aren’t feelin’ well?” Johnny asked, and Simon sighed.
“Gaz would ask why you can’t do it, since you already know and have today off. And if he found out that the reason I can’t come in is because my talking weighted blanket wouldn’t let me up, he’d simply have to die,” Ghost replied, and Soap laughed, before complaining again.
“You think I’ve done enough good the last few missions to ask for a miracle?” Soap asked, and Ghost sighed.
“If your miracle is asking for me to get today off, you may not have enough good karma, Johnny,” Ghost sighed, and Soap huffed. He wished anyway, wished that someway, somehow, they could get Ghost today off without having to move from where they were.
Two knocks sounded from Ghost’s door, and both of them froze. Simon cleared his throat.
“Yeah?” He shouted, and a sigh came from behind the door.
“You alright in there, Ghost?” Came Price’s voice, and Ghost and Soap froze again. When no answer came, Price called again. “Ghost?”
“Uh, I’m alright, Captain, just not feelin’ too hot,” He replied how he usually would when he had a migraine and Price let out another sigh.
“Alright, take it easy today then, I’ll clear your schedule of meetings,” Ghost let out a sigh, hearing Price take a few steps, before he came back and knocked again. “Oh, and if this becomes a frequent excuse, I’ll gut both of you myself. Have fun you two,” He called, leaving again. Soap felt his cheeks inflate, trying really hard not to laugh, but seeing Ghost’s face, bright red and flustered, he couldn’t help it.
“Oh, shut it!” Ghost growled, hitting Soap with a pillow, the Scot laughing all the while.
“Guess my miracle got through,” He sighed, catching the pillow as Simon tried to hit him again.
“Probably took all my good karma too, now one of us is gonna get shot,” Ghost replied, and Soap huffed.
“Don’t even joke, ya numpty, you’ll will it into existence,” Johnny laughed, and Ghost sighed, relaxing into the bed again.
“Well, now we can just stay here all day,” He sighed, and John smiled.
“Yeah, yeah we can,” He settled back onto Ghost’s chest, and the Scot got a devious look in his eyes. Ghost felt the air change more than he saw it, but he knew it was there nonetheless. He realized where Soap was positioned, and with the type of person the sergeant was, there was only one thing he could be planning to do.
“Do it, you’re dead,” Ghost threatened, but Soap just let out a ‘snrk’ before letting his head fall again.
“I wasnae goin’ to,” Johnny defended, but the air never dissipated. Ghost felt Johnny press his nose between his pecs, and he grabbed the back of Johnny’s neck, just holding him still.
“Johnny,” He growled, and Johnny laughed, unmoving. He didn’t say anything either, but Simon felt the air become a little less charged. He let his hand fall away from his neck, instead laying back down and relaxing again.
Before he could even move, he felt Johnny’s hands come to rest on his chest. They slid, slowly, to the sides of his chest, before all at once Johnny squeezed them together, pressing his nose to Simon’s sternum.
With an indignant noise and fast hands, Simon grabbed Johnny’s mohawk and pulled him off, eliciting an indignant noise from the man on top of him.
They stayed that way, both eyes wide in shock and tension as they stared at each other.
“Learning somethin’ about yourself, LT?” Soap joked, and Simon just tugged his hair again in retaliation, getting another noise out him.
“Learning somethin’ about you, more like,” He teased, and Soap grabbed his wrist, Ghost letting go immediately. Johnny laid back down, nose still pressed to Ghost’s sternum.
“Shut up,” Soap replied, but it was muffled, and Ghost laughed.
They stayed like that, just laying with each other and relaxing.
It was going to be a relaxing day. Well, as relaxing as any day with John MacTavish could be, but Ghost didn’t mind.
In fact, maybe he preferred it.
“That was so worth it—”
“Shut up, Soap,”