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Johnny’s feet were aching. He’d helped do the rounds of the base, making sure everyone was accounted for and had somewhere to go, at least for a little while.
He crawled onto his bunk in the deserted barracks. Well, almost deserted. Ghost was the only one who had decided to stay. He was stretched out on Johnny’s bunk, not really caring enough to move to his own room. It didn’t make a difference now. His back was pretty tired, anyway.
They’d both shared a bottle or two of the whiskey Johnny kept in his secret stash. It wasn’t bourbon, but Ghost wouldn’t complain.
The papers say it’s doomsday. There was nothing left for them to do now. The button had been pressed. It was a case of mutually assured destruction- every nation that still mattered had decided to nuke each other up, until Satan himself would be impressed.
So, here it is. Their final night alive. And as the earth burns to the ground, Johnny couldn’t fathom where else he should be. It was Ghost that he chose to lie beside, at the atom bomb locks in.
He adjusted himself to lay flat on his back, shoulder-to-shoulder with his lieutenant. A tiny, crappy TV he’d salvaged was perched on his desk. It didn’t play much anymore, mostly static spliced with intermittent news casts.
Strangely enough, he found he didn’t mind. Both men had seemed to set their grief aside, as they idly watched the television, and Johnny almost had a mind to be perturbed at the fact that there was nowhere else he would rather be as the world caved in.
Kyle had left earlier that evening. He clung to Soap in a tight hug, and did the same to Ghost. Ghost didn’t even seem to mind. He was one of the lucky ones, if you could say that. His parents weren’t all that far away. He could probably make it in time. Price gripped him by the shoulder, offering a curt nod. He thanked him for everything. Gaz tipped his cap at the team in a gesture that was likely meant to be a joke, but didn’t quite follow through.
‘See you on the other side.’
And with that, Gaz stepped into the car and drove off into the night. Johnny knew he’d never see him again, but he tried not to think about that.
Price was the next to leave. Well, perhaps ‘leave’ was a strong word. After turning to Soap and Ghost and thanking them for their service, he offered a watery smile, and turned to head to his office.
With nowhere to go, at least not in the time they had left, Soap turned and headed for his bunk. He didn’t comment on the fact that Ghost had followed him.
As they entered the barracks, Soap moved to his suitcase and pulled out a clean t-shirt. It was near identical to the one he was wearing, though it was missing the dirt and blood stains. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to put it on.
Despite the impending apocalypse, he had the wherewithal to notice that Ghost had done much the same- the skull print balaclava he wore looked clean, fresh- no frayed seams or loose threads.
We’re going out in style, babe.
On the small bunk Ghost could feel Johnny pressed to his side, but suddenly, it didn’t seem like enough. Without a second thought he wrapped his arms around his sergeant, and pulled him right into his chest. He didn’t have anything left inside him to feel shocked when he felt the smaller man shake in his arms, sobbing and hiccuping. He could barely see him in the dark room, the faint glow of the TV static barely showing the outline of his body and that god-awful haircut he could only associate with his Johnny.
Ghost couldn’t be sure what Johnny felt, but he didn’t feel the need to ask. Ever since Las Almas, he felt he had a pretty good idea. Regardless of Johnny’s feelings, Ghost knew- it was him he chose to walk in death with. It would always be him.
Soap clung to Ghost a little tighter, nails digging into his back as he tried to control his breathing. Ghost bent his head down, only letting go for a moment to pull his balaclava away. He only had a moment left, and so he would take this moment to be selfish. He buried his face into Soap’s hair and took in a deep breath, and was only slightly surprised by the scent. Sweat, gunpowder, metal, of course- but he also noted the faintest hint of strawberries.
They clung to each other, impossibly tight, both completely silent and yet, nothing needed to be said.
The last thing Ghost remembered was leaning his mouth just a little closer to Johnny’s ear, as his sobs finally subsided.
‘Goodnight, love.’
Just before his organs packed it in.