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Soap starts to wake up to pressure.
Familiar pressure, at first—being properly submerged instead of folded and squished into the horrific invisible barriers humans used for containment. Too weak to thrash, barely conscious most days. Whatever had kept him drowsy in the too small prison is starting to wear off, he thinks… he hopes.
Something thick in his mouth, wrapped around his head, had kept him from gnashing at the humans the few times he was coherent. It's still there, he realises, as more awareness returns to him; thick like too many kelp blades, when he needed something to bite down on while Ghost treated injuries—
A new sensation of pain makes his eyes dilate and awareness shoot through his body, senses starting to register everything all at once.
A secondary pressure all over his body—bound arms and body. He can kind of see long cords in his peripherals, attached in various locations to the shark body and connected to heavy… anchors, he thinks, they're called. He can feel them pulling on his pectoral fins, as well. Something heavy on his dorsal and tip of his ear, as well.
Something around his neck, as tight as everything else restricting his movement.
But what got his attention, he very quickly realises, is his own blood. A deep cut behind his left pectoral. Trying to dig his liver out—orca hunting? He thinks he remembers one of the humans mentioning a starved orca. They have another thing coming, if this is where they brought him to bait out a "starved orca".
One of the humans putting their hand in the wound confirms they're going for the liver; but, it just makes him thrash against the restraints and he does, briefly, dislodge at least one human. In the midst of the thrashing—he can kind of feel the humans trying to keep him still—he can hear… a song. A very familiar song that should be absolutely terrifying as it echoes off the rocks around him.
Ghost.
He sees the shadow beneath him, briefly. The humans don't notice, still occupied trying to get him still again. He feels the restraints tugging more and only begins to still his thrashing as he realises exactly how much danger he's putting himself in. Ignoring the blood—he isn't worried about the injury, that can be treated later—he can definitely tell some of the anchors are beginning to loosen. His chest heaves as he tries to bite through the thickness in his mouth; the humans make gestures at each other. Excited gestures—more and more animated and frantic whenever Ghost's song echoes around them. When it gets louder. Confusion when it gets softer or the moments it goes completely silent.
They have no idea how terrified they should be when it's so quiet.
Ghost is closer. He knows it. He needs to keep attention on himself—he knows both of them have the horrible weapons that put things to sleep. He wanted to have his own teeth available for this; but, he just needs to make due. Not difficult, when he feels the hand go into the gash on his tail, again.
They want him to thrash and look like a weak meal? He's all too delighted to comply—well. Not delighted. But he will be as soon as he gets his mouth free. For now the thrashing keeps attention on him, right up until Ghost more or less materialises behind the human with their hand in the open gash.
He knows it doesn't take much effort for Ghost to tear the human apart—claws digging into the torso and tearing upwards until it's severed from the lower half and his attention goes to the second human without missing a beat.
The second human tries to escape by swimming under Soap—maybe hoping that Ghost will be distracted by a free dinner. Distracted, yes—but just long enough he can tear at the binding on Soap's back. He sees the restraints fall off his front, the ring and everything attached to it slowly sinking; but, he doesn't let it distract him for long, already tearing at whatever's in his mouth until he finally gets it out—a thick strap, like the rest of the restraints—and immediately turns his attention to trying to twist in on himself to get his own teeth into the human.
"John—Johnny, hold still—!"
He maybe forgot about the rest of the restraints. He may be smaller than Ghost—and, generally, not nearly as strong—but in that moment of pulling his entire body to catch the human, he ends up pulling all of the anchors loose and it's only Ghost getting his claws through most of the connected cords that keeps Soap from being dragged into the depths or having any part of his tail torn off.
He'll be grateful later; right now, the only thing he's focused on is tearing the human apart with his teeth. Until Ghost finally pries the body away from him—well. Calling it a body is probably being generous. Scraps is more accurate. But, as those scraps float away, towards the surface, and Soap struggles to pull his breathing under control—torso heaving with shallow, rapid breaths—as Ghost turns his face, clearly looking for more injuries… everything starts to hit him finally and the anger starts to hit different.
Panic. Relief. He catches Ghost before he can circle to assess the open wound and just latches on as tight as he can. If his claws are digging too hard into Ghost's back, he doesn't say anything. Just closes his arms around Soap, until he's completely enveloped.
"I got ya, Johnny. I got ya. Let's get you home. Get that taken care of and you can have whatever y'want."
"... Wha'ever I want?" He means it as a joke. He means for it to be a lot more light-hearted than it comes out. Not as the quiet, almost stutter, of words that he's fairly sure gets lost against Ghost's chest. But, he's still comforted by the rumble caused from the quiet chuckle. A soothing vibration from deep in the orca's chest.
"Within reason."
Soap doesn't argue or try to fight against Ghost working himself free and ushering Soap along to their grotto. Not a far swim—it makes Soap painfully aware of the fact the humans have at least been tracking Ghost for… who even knows how long. Long enough to know where he preferred to hunt and sleep. Long enough to know where "bait" would be most effective.
The adrenaline is wearing off by the time they get home and it takes a concentrated effort for Soap to hoist himself onto the dried land mass in the center of their grotto. Enough that the gash isn't submerged anymore and his upper body collapses across the ground. The chill of air is already setting in, even as the part of his tail still in the water sways and his caudal fin splashes water up to keep his skin from drying out too horribly.
He's tired. Emotionally exhausted—still working his way through various stages of processing—and just physically exhausted after being in the cramped containment for… however long it's been. He wants to ask. Maybe he'll remember to later—
Of course, that's quickly the last thing on his mind as he feels something extra cold slathered onto his injury and it's only the awareness that it's Ghost that keeps him from turning and getting his teeth around the source of the unwelcome sensation. He still snarls out a curse—lost under his accent—and Ghost simply runs a heavy, albeit gentle, touch up his back.
"Easy. Know it ain't pleasant, but sooner it's done, sooner you're back in the water."
Soap does his best to hold still while Ghost works—a few more irritated growls and his caudal fin slapping the water in equal irritation… it might bring him a little bit of amusement went Ghost warns him to stop splashing him. He listens; but, it was still worth the short burst of pleasure.
He doesn't fight Ghost easing him back into the water, once the salve has a chance to set; easier to wrap his body in long strands of kelp binding, in the water, just to keep the wound covered while it heals. Soap promptly lets himself more or less collapse against Ghost's chest, again, once the binding's set and just stays there. He can still feel the weight on his right ear and something heavy on his dorsal. He saw something on his hip, earlier, but he's too damn tired (and maybe a little scared) to actually look at it.
"... So, what were you sayin' about reasonable, now?"
Ghost chuckles and runs a gentle claw back through Soap's hair, fingers flexing and skrtiching a soothing sensation into his scalp. "Reasonable in that it innit gonna send me too far. Think I'm leavin' you alone in this condition?"
Soap hums and moves up until he can push his face, stubbornly, into Ghost's neck. "Damn right you're not goin' off without me. One of us goes, we both go. … Just wanna rest right now, Si… ain't hit me yet and I know it's gonna. Want you right here where I can find ya and make sure this fuckery actually is over, aye?"
If he sounds like he's trying to convince himself, more than Ghost, neither of them say anything about it. Ghost simply pulls him down until they're laid out on the large, flat rock they use for a bed, and curls himself around Soap in a protective, secure hold.