Chapter Text
The Ghost.
Undefeated. Silent. Stealthy.
These things made him the perfect man for 141. It made him a target. Not an easy one, but a target, nonetheless.
Ghost never thought the day would come where he would be the one tied up and being dragged along the damp forest floor behind a small group of men. Fucking Graves. Fucking Shadows.
Ghost’s eyes weren’t willing to cooperate with him, still blurry from being unconscious and his ears were ringing. After a few moments, they focused, and the ringing faded leaving only the sound of rain. A quick glance to his right revealed Soap.
His Soap. His Johnny.
Although Ghost would never admit that.
“Johnny…” a faint whisper fell from Ghost’s lips.
Ghost could see cuts and bruises starting to form on Soap’s face. Soap’s almost lifeless body looked so peaceful, despite also being tied up and dragged along the ground. His eyelids were calm and quiet, unlike when he had nightmares. The light rain was hitting both of their faces, the moonlight reflecting off the droplets. It made an almost calming sound against tree leaves.
Ghost tasted blood on his tongue, the pain from his own wounds setting in. He looked down toward his own body. A deep enough slash had been made into the left side of his chest, and his ankles were throbbing from the rope. He could feel every tiny rock and stick beneath him, painfully digging into his back and head. Sighing, he let his head fall back against the uneven ground.
He felt exposed. His mask and balaclava had been taken off from him after he was knocked out. Graves was out for revenge against all of 141 and Los Vaqueros. Ghost thought he would be long dead after the tank explosion. It was clear that he was not.
It could hurt for Graves to be his kidnapper. He had known Graves, though Ghost never really liked him. His southern accent, his habit to exaggerate almost every speech he made, his stupid Shadows. Ghost hated all of it.
It would hurt Soap more.
Graves had been friends with Soap. The two of them had built something more than allies. Ghost had tried to warn Soap of Graves, saying he was too secretive of his work and plans. Soap had ignored him.
Ghost could almost laugh at this small victory over Soap. Almost.
Although he wished otherwise, Ghost’s vision started to fade to black. He thought he heard Soap stirring next to him, but it was drowned out by the voices of Shadows in front of him.
“Well boys, we made it,” Graves said to his shadows, followed by a quick look to his two prisoners, “Take these two to cell 2C. Leave ‘em tied up.”
This was the last thing heard by Ghost as exhaustion and pain flooded his body.