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Ghost never believed in a God.
That opportunity died when he was just a child; when his father would drag him into skeevy parts of town and force him to watch whatever was bound to happen that night, or when his mother would pretend to ignore his cries for help when he would tell her what had happened.
The opportunity to find comfort in a higher power died with his family, burned to the ground, and shot in the head just like Tommy was. Like Tommy’s wife, Beth, and his nephew, Joseph. And his mother.
Maybe that’s why his job now was easier. He didn’t place some false hope that a deity was watching over him, causing him to be careless in hopes that “God will protect him.”
Ghost never believed in a God.
Until he met John MacTavish.
Sure, he couldn’t stand the man at first. He was used to working alone, to leading a team that would actually listen because they feared him, to people whispering behind his back about how scary he was and spreading rumours about what he looked like, who he’s hurt, how many he’s killed, and about who he was before he enlisted, before the 141.
John never did that, though.
Instead, John acted as if he’d known Ghost his entire life. He never joined in on the rumours, never even acted as though he believed them in the first place. He looked at Ghost as if he could tell exactly what was going on in the man’s head, even behind the mask. Ghost didn’t even have to say a word aloud, and John knew what he wanted to say. He quickly fell into a routine with Ghost after the first mission, one that Ghost begrudgingly got acclimated to.
Ghost didn’t know what he did for God to put John “Soap” MacTavish into his life.
Ghost didn’t know why John decided to go out of his way to spend time with him, to incorporate Ghost into his daily life outside of missions, to remember small pieces of information that were mentioned in passing.
Ghost does know that he was in far too deep with Johnny. And that gave him a reason to be scared.
Scared for his own safety – not physically, but emotionally. Scared that Johnny would reject him, that he had someone waiting for him back home like so many others, scared that he would be distracted on a mission and it’d be because of something Johnny said over the comms.
But more than anything, he was scared for Johnny. Scared that he would hurt the man beyond repair, scared that he would betray Johnny’s trust that’s been so confidently placed in Ghost’s hands, ones that have killed countless men and have enough scars across them to match, ones that have never known kindness and have now been put in a position that they must.
And when Johnny confesses that he does love Ghost after a night out at a bar, that he has from the moment the two met, Ghost isn’t sure that he doesn’t believe in a God. Because who can deny such an existence when you’re staring an angel right in the face?
Ghost spends his free time worshipping Johnny, holding his face in his hands, running his fingers through his hair, just holding him as though he can’t believe that he’s in his bed, because he can’t. Through sleepless nights and dreams plagued with nightmares that leave him choking on air or throwing punches that strike nothing out of sheer instinct upon waking, he can’t figure out why Johnny wants him. When someone is as beautiful and charming as Johnny, why would you settle for someone like Ghost, someone who’s battered and bruised, who acts like a feral dog growling in a corner as someone holds their hand palm up at eye level toward him?
Ghost is like a walking death wish, while Johnny seems as though he breathes life into everything he touches.
And being separated from him on any mission, but especially after Graves’ betrayal, felt like a knife through his heart being pushed in deeper and deeper with every passing second, every moment where Johnny didn’t respond, and every time his watch ticked another minute and Johnny wasn’t standing beside him yet, still fighting his way to him.
When they make it out, damaged, but alive, Simon offers his dog tags to Johnny. Calls it a good luck charm to get Johnny to take them, but really, he knows that the next time Johnny’s injured, he’ll go to hell and back to cover him, even if that means he’s K.I.A. And he’d rather Johnny has something of his, one of his few possessions, to remember him by without having to go through waiting for paperwork to be finished or beg Price to be the one to receive them when it happens.
Except it doesn’t happen.
Once everything’s said and done, they just... go back to base. They frequent bars when there’s downtime, sure, but there’s no ongoing, looming threat, no priority mission that gets jumped on them. Just training and routine for the foreseeable future.
Simon spends more time in Johnny’s room than he ever had before and learns more and more about the man that he adores. He watches Johnny’s fingers flick through his journal, studies his expression as he writes or draws in it, listens to his rambles when he eventually shares some old entries with him.
And Simon starts to think that maybe he doesn’t need to believe in God, after all.
Maybe he’s more than content to say that he earned what he has and that he’s grateful to have this man by his side throughout his days. Maybe when everything’s over, when they eventually leave the 141 and decide to rejoin civ life, maybe they’ll settle down back in Scotland, get a house with a wraparound porch and have a cat and a service dog. Maybe they’ll get married, and Simon will take Johnny’s last name – or vice versa if Johnny chooses to.
Maybe all he’d ever needed was right next to him, through it all.