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The Comfort of Exisiting

Summary:

Soap has a bad day and Ghost just wants to help. He's not amazing at it, but he's trying and that's all that matters.

“You’re good.” He finally answered, seeming very much like the private was, in fact, not good. Soap walked past him out into the hallway. A few other people had watched the exchange and shared confused glances.

Notes:

I wrote and edited this in one night (this night) so...

if its absolute shit lmk

enjoy <3

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

Work Text:

Ghost looked up just in time to see a private collide with Soap in the entrance to the mess hall.

“Sorry, Sergeant!” He got out, separating himself from the other man immediately. The kid looked increasingly nervous as the seconds passed. Soap took a controlled breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“You’re good.” He finally answered, seeming very much like the private was, in fact, not good. Soap walked past him out into the hallway. A few other people had watched the exchange and were sharing confused glances. It was indeed strange, the deep breath, the dismissal. No joke or pretend threat in sight.

The private walked over to the table beside him stiffly, where some of his friends were already waiting. Ghost strained his ears to listen to the conversation.

“-Fuck did you do man?” One of them joked.

“I- I didn’t do anything! I just bumped into him!”

“If we have to do more drills cause of that you’re off my Christmas list.”

The offending private huffed, going back to eating his food.

Ghost stood suddenly, and their gazes flicked to him nervously, like they forgot he was there. Today was not the day to scold them for gossiping though, he had more important things to attend to. Like finding out what the hell had Johnny acting like that.

He walked a bit faster than normal to catch up to him in the hall. It was strange, like watching a version of himself walking, as the crowd parted for Soap ahead of him. He caught up and fell into line beside him.

“All good, Johnny?”

Soap looked over to him, the smallest inclination of his head and a flick of his eyes, then did a double take, looking him up and down for half a second.

“All good, Lt.” His voice was measured, at an alarmingly normal volume. Like if you took the average volume of all conversations on earth. Ghost tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at the unusual subduedness of the other man.

“You sure?”

Soap huffed, his eyes twitching in a way like he was trying not to roll them. Ghost felt his chest get tight with irritation. Was trying to check up on him really so awful?

“Would tell ya If I wasn’t, Ghost.” He stopped, and Ghost realized they’d walked all the way to the barracks. “This is my stop.” His lips pulled into a thin line like he was waiting for him to talk again.

Fucking hell.

Ghost could take a hint.

“Alright, Sergeant.”

And then he fucked off.

~

His pencil cracked in his grip, splintering as he let it fall from his hands. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth.

Fuck.

What was wrong with him today? It wasn’t unusual to wake up feeling like everyone in the entire world wants to piss him off, but it is unusual for it to stick around so long. He almost lost his fucking cool at that newbie earlier and he feels a bit bad. He also pissed off Ghost, but of course, the fucking giant had chosen today to worry over him. Never any other day, but today.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

That wasn’t true. Ghost checks up on him plenty, he had just noticed today because it rubbed him the wrong way. In fact, there was a good chance he had noticed his demeanor and chosen to walk with him.

Soap stood up from his chair, stretching lightly. When he went to crack his neck, one side wouldn’t crack, leaving it feeling tight. Of course. Feels like he’s in a fucking movie with how shit his day is going.

He paced around his room, feeling out of options. The best thing to do was to take his mind off of how horribly angry he was. Okay, make a checklist. Those always work and totally don't piss him off.

Gym. Already tried that.

Food. Already tried that. Not like he could stomach much anyway.

Drawing. If his snapped pencil is anything to go by, he already tried that.

Paperwork? That was doable. Could get that fucking report done from however long ago.

Okay, paperwork it was.

~

Ghost was feeling a little more than worried when it was dinner and Soap still hadn’t left his room. He saw Gaz sitting at a table and made his way over to him.

“You know what’s up with Soap?” He asked.

Gaz startled, jolting slightly from his phone.

“Christ, man.” He raised an eyebrow. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean I saw him eat about two bites at breakfast and then scare the everloving shit out of a recruit.”

Gaz pursed his lips for a second, thinking.

“He’s prolly having a piss day.”

Ghost recoiled.

“Do I even wanna know what that means.”

Gaz looked up at him, confused, and then laughed.

“Sorry, I forgot. That’s what he calls ‘em. Says he has days where he is just mega ‘piss’ed off for no reason.” Gaz said, placing emphasis on the word piss. Ghost breathed out, close to a laugh. Of course Johnny would call it that.

He sat there for another minute, thinking. Then he stood up.

Gaz sighed dramatically.

“People only ever come to me when they want something.” He said, leaning back and placing a hand against his forehead.

Ghost flipped him off and he heard a snort as he walked away.

The walk to Soap’s room was quiet.

He lifted his hand to rap a single knuckle against the door.

“It’s open.” Came the muted reply. Ghost rolled his eyes fondly. He knew it was. For some godforsaken reason, Soap likes to keep his door unlocked.

He stepped in, closing it lightly behind him.

Soap was sitting at his desk, pencil paused halfway through writing something as he turned towards him. One arm sprawled over the back of his chair, tapping at the wood in a simple beat.

“Need somethin’, Lt.?” He still didn’t smile, but he looked much more relaxed. His brows weren’t pinched slightly, his nose didn't have that little wrinkle right between his eyes, and his mouth was settled, instead of twisting slightly upwards like he was about to snarl at you.

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling caught despite him not saying anything about the blatant way he was staring. Soap raised an eyebrow when Ghost still hadn't spoken.

“Don’t need anything, Johnny.” He said, sitting down on Soap’s bed. He laid down, toeing off his shoes and making himself comfortable with his hands behind his head.

“Oookay,” Soap said, turning back around in his chair. “Guess I have company now.” He muttered to himself.

Ghost just closed his eyes, listening to the light scratching of the pencil and Soap’s breathing. It was comforting, to just exist in someone else's space. Made him feel relaxed.

He didn’t even know why he had gone to his room in the first place. To comfort him, maybe? But he was not very good at that. Maybe to comfort himself, because that was happening a lot more right now than the other way around.

Was Ghost a comforting presence in Soap’s life?

Did Soap seek him out to feel normal the same way Ghost did?

When Ghost looked at him, did Johnny feel real and tethered to the ground?

He hoped so.

~

A fist thumped lightly on his chest and he curled inwards, waking up. When had he fallen asleep?

“Wakey, wakey, Ghost.” Soap said, patting him a few times.

Ghost grunted, sitting up. He noticed sunlight filtering through the curtains. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed his fear.

He had slept through the night.

“Fuckin’ hell Soap, why didn't you wake me up?”

Soap smiled at him.

Everything clicked into place.

“Didn't wanna. You could probably use the extra sleep. Maybe it’ll take the stick out of your ass today.”

“You’ll eat your words the day there actually is a stick up my ass, Sergeant.”

“Whatever you tell yourself, Lt.”

Notes:

I never felt the need to say this but I've seen some stuff about it lately so.
DONT JOIN THE MILITARY

thanks for reading!

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