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There's never anything loudly dominant about Price. For all the other Commanding Officers he's worked under, Price is by far the most leanant. Ghost knows that's what planted the little seed in him. It's never been like that with anyone else. His other COs have always treated him like they were reading straight from the book. History of capture. Apathetic. Willing. Brief orders have always been the way to go. He always listened, never talked back, and got the job done.
It hadn't taken long to notice he really did thrive on his own, so pretty soon it was just about all he did. Different ops for different COs. Passed about like the most precious soldier who would do anything and ask for nothing.
And it worked for him.
No one expected him to ever try to mingle. Either with his peers or the CO. He really didn't want to. Less baggage to sift through if they ever decided to turn on him. So he stuck to his job and hoped everyone else would too. And if someone under him wouldn't, he'd make sure of it.
He'd bark and snap and shake them around until they fell back in line and he could finish off whatever he was told to do before touching back down. Polish his weapons, his skills. Ready to be reused.
Working under Price was immediately different. It was just him. An entire task force with all the power of two men. It was more than a little off-putting. Was it to say Ghost is worth the strength of a dozen?
Price had spoken to him with a gentle voice. Nothing different from the way his other COs had spoken to him like he was a ticking time bomb. He'd said the rules here were lax, and they'd be working alone until Ghost was ready to play with others. And the way he had said that. Play with others. It was like a bucket of ice water over his head, thinking that maybe Price saw him as more than just a weapon passed around. Saw him as a dog not yet trained enough to be let out in the park.
It kept Ghost from saying "I'm ready now" and had him standing pole straight with a "Yes, sir." Price had looked at him for just a silent moment longer before nodding and sending him off with a promise to fetch him in a few days for their first run.
Ghost didn't have to be told to behave when their first mission began. He knew how to follow orders, it was all he did his whole life, but he especially knew how to impress. How to match the pace of his leader, stay just behind and out of the way. Anticipate their move, turns, needs. Price hardly looked at him while they worked. It was his words that wrapped Ghost around his finger.
'I'm going around the west side' 'Looking for a higher vantage' 'Nearly done'
'Hold' 'On me' 'Fire'
Stay. Follow. Bite.
Being told Price's every move like a puppy consoled when the owner is stepping away, simple enough to keep Ghost from guessing. He could. He does. Every other CO just assumes he's learned enough that he doesn't need to be told more than the basics. He'll just adapt along the way.
It's true, he's experienced enough, but here Price is, leading him through so they're working simultaneously. Seamlessly. When they rest he does the same. 'Sit down for a while. We're safe here. I'm going to ration some food and bring you yours.' He doesn't ever linger long enough for a confirmation, and Ghost never feels the need to voice one. Just does the action and stays quiet. Price has it under control.
"That hill give you any trouble?" Price says when they're on their way back. They both had taken a rough fall getting to the exfil but it wasn't anything either of them had made a peep about.
"No, sir. Left wrist is sore but nothing to be done for it."
"I'll get you checked out in medical anyway."
Ghost nods once with a blink. Good behavior is rewarded by regular check ups. He can take quite a beating before being sent off, but it's clear Price wants his every nick seen to so he's in top shape. Ghost follows Price about on base while they debrief. Answering questions, filling out paperwork, stopping for tea and check ups before going back out to work some more. Nothing is left for tomorrow, not when there's time today.
When the sun has long since set and Price is finally sitting down in his own office, he comments on Ghost's work personally.
"You did good."
"Thank you, sir."
Price stares at him like he's expecting more. Torches a cigar and leans back. Ghost's breath catches. His eyes dart around like there's something he's forgetting to bring up. To do. But Price has always been guiding him, he would've said what he's expecting right? Ghost settles back on his eyes. They're filled with nothing but interest.
"You're dismissed."
The next mission goes much the same. Price leads, Ghost follows. Price's skill is a marvel to watch. Most of the stragety has already been discussed but he does make it known when he wants input. Not that Ghost has much. Everything is always soundproof and when it's not, they can both improvise on nearly the same wavelength. Ghost is glad for it. He doesn't have to watch over someone else for a change, especially when Price is far more involved than any of his other COs have ever been.
The end of the operation is much the same as the last. They fill out the debriefing together. Get looked over for their aches and pains, and end up at Price's office as the night winds down.
"Another job well done."
"Yes, sir."
Price takes a sip from a cup of tea Ghost followed him to the kitchen for. Ghost had gotten himself a smaller serving and finished it quicker.
"Remember to wear the compression through the night."
"Yes."
When Price looks at him again, Ghost feels a curl in his stomach. There's something he should be doing, he's sure. Something Price is waiting to hear or see that has him watching so expectantly. Ghost holds his breath and hopes Price will tell him what it is.
"You're dismissed."
Ghost bows his head slightly as he leaves.
On the third mission Price gets shot. Well, worse than a soldier in their shoes would like. It's an angry clip that took off a chunk of his bicep and started bleeding a bit too dramatically for their tastes. Price took out the enemy but Ghost is quick to cover him with his body. The wound isn't deep enough to need to be stitched right away so they leave it to be properly taken care of when they're at the safe house.
There, Ghost pulls out the medical supplies and watches Price douse the wound in disinfectant. He grabs some needle and thread but the angle is too awkward so Ghost silently takes it away and gets to work himself. Price doesn't speak, which is just fine because he hardly does when it's not necessary. He doesn't comment on Ghost's technique or even look to watch it. Barely hitches his breath everytime the needle goes through. Doesn't move a muscle, just sits patiently.
Something about it makes Ghost feel content. Acknowledged far more than for just his skill in the heat of battle.
"Go put that wrist compression on. Use it until we're ready to leave again." Price speaks only once Ghost has finished the bandages.
"I've been cleared, sir. Just yesterday."
Price raises an impressed eyebrow. "You lying to me?"
Ghost pauses. He's never. "No, sir."
"Alright," he shrugs easily. But Ghost can't help but linger on it just a bit longer as Price fixes them up something warm.
He's never lied to him about his injuries. Has always been honest about his health and was even accompanied each time they got their check ups, so Price knows he's never hidden a single bruise.
An odd feeling overcomes him while they eat together quietly. The feeling of being taken care of.
When the mission is done and taken care of, and Price has gotten them both their teas and even a few biscuits while they waited in medical, Ghost finds himself at attention in Price's office again.
"Solid work, lad." Ghost feels his body twitch at the nickname.
"Thank you, sir."
Price eyes his torch lighting the end of his cigar. "Anything for me?"
"No. I've put all of our papers where we always do."
Price chuckles against the cigar and catches Ghost's eyes with a humorous glint. "I mean anything to say about my work."
No one's ever asked him that. Even the soldiers beneath him just look at him with big hopeful eyes that silently plead him to accept their best.
"I think you did well, sir." It's honest.
"And my slip up?"
"Not one. Just another day at war."
"Nobody's perfect, lad."
There's that name again. As if they're closer than this. A student and their teacher maybe? Price is right. Not even Ghost is the perfect soldier after all these trials. He's not even allowed colleagues.
"I suppose not, sir."
Price lets the silence build again. And Ghost wracks his brain about why. He thought maybe the other times he was waiting for Ghost's feedback but here he is again, under the unwavering gaze of those eyes again. "Anything on your mind then?"
Ghost's eyes dart to the side as if it would hide his surprised expression any more than his mask. "No, sir."
"Or would you like to be dismissed?"
That catches his attention again. Ghost nearly trembles at those words.
'Do you wanna leave? You wanna go home? You better tell me what you were about to say before I force it out of you.'
'This is your new place now, you know. Right down here. Now are you gonna do what I say or am I gonna have to relieve you of your duties? Perminantly.'
"Wh-at...?" he hears his voice just about break as a simple word comes out like a pathetic whisper. Some part inside him immediately flinches at his refusal to pick an option.
Price furrows his brows. "Your word is just as weighted in this task force as mine." Ghost realizes he's been speaking in this open, gentle tone this entire time. "If you'd like to make any changes or voice any concerns, feel free to do so. It's just us."
An awful pit in his stomach he didn't know was making him rigid eases up. So that was all. The only thing Price kept waiting on was a bit of feedback from the other half of this task force of theirs. No... it's not Ghost's. Not as long as he's Price's subordinate. Maybe not even after that. Still, he understands what Price is expecting now, and Ghost is nothing if not willing to give.
"I do wonder when you plan to bring in more soldiers, sir."
Price nods, accepting of the question. "That's up to you."
He frowns a bit under the mask and hopes it doesn't show in his eyes. When he frowns like this, he'd been told he looked like a kicked puppy just about to cry.
"I won't start any problems, sir. I've never had conflict with other men before."
Price shakes his head. "No no that's not what I mean. I want you to be comfortable here. Comfortable in your role here beside me. I created this task force to get away from all that red tape and bullshit heirarchy. When I bring in the sergeants, they'll be at the same footing as you despite the titles. And just like you, they're hand picked men with solid skills and better hearts. I won't be allowing anyone to take advantage of their power here."
Ghost doesn't blink. He's far too absorbed in whatever kind of speech that just was and the way it clutches at his heart strings and rewires all his neurons. This task force is... not what he thought it was going to be. Price has big plans in mind.
"I'm comfortable here, sir."
"I don't believe you."
Ghost chews on his lip before catching himself and shoving that old habit back in the recesses of his mind. "I've never lied to you."
"I know, lad." Ghost bites his cheek hard instead. "I need you to trust me fully here. Trust that who I bring in can be trusted too. You're not going to be sent off again, you know. 141 is going to be your home. I'm waiting for you to settle down before we bring in some guys who might set that back for you."
"Settle down...?" Why does Ghost sound so sad?
Price takes a deep breath before continuing. "You've been through a lot." When Price looks at him this time, there's a pain in his eyes. A sadness that makes Ghost's shoulders loosen. "Before all this Task Force 141 shit, I want to give you a place where you can heal. A safe place. Just you, but I'll be here."
And Ghost... doesn't know what to say to that. He's never been given that. Been offered much of anything. He trusts Price, yes, though they just met when he was enlisted under him. Each time he speaks, it's so incredibly confident and gentle Ghost can't help but feel all wrapped up in it. Can't help but follow along. Fall into those eyes that look at him endlessly open.
In this task force, in this room, it really is just the two of them. And it should put Ghost off that Price is asking for his full trust in a force he admits will be crossing all sorts of tape. But it doesn't, because of all the people he's ever worked with through the years, Price is the only one to take care of him, however little he can.
"Would you like to be dismissed?" Price offers, voice void of anything that would ever scare him.
"Yes," he whispers.
When Ghost doesn't move, Price nods once and says "You're dismissed."
Ghost finds himself bowing ever so slightly with his eyes closed, and when he comes up, his lashes are just the faintest bit damp. He leaves with a lump in his throat and a fuzz in his brain. So much to absorb from a man who offers him everything.
The next mission is a blessing for his overactive mind. He'd been thinking a lot about what Price had said, though he figures there's not much to accept that isn't already done. He's already here under Price's command, here until he decides to leave.
They're set to be out for about a week, nothing Ghost hasn't done, nothing he hasn't even done solo. But he's intrigued because now he knows that if he allows it, this can be his life. He can be a soldier just how he always wanted. Going on and off of base, seeing someplace new, eating terrible and wonderful things, experiencing wretched and incredible weather, and learning and growing skills. Maybe even settle his mind with this newfound stability.
But first he'll have to do as Price says and trust him, so he'll use every second to do so.
Nothing changes in their dynamic on the field. Price calls his moves as he always does and Ghost strategizes right beside him. He takes the extra time to watch for any quirks or special skills Price may have to set him apart. Anything to learn more about him. On their down time, he follows Price's orders easily as well. He's fair and understanding. Since Ghost had done most of the physical labor so far, he offers to take first watch as well as gather their meals, which also seems to be something he does himself anyway.
Price likes to nod and huff. Likes to stargaze and keep his hands busy. Sometimes he likes to point something out and mention a fact he learned sometime ago, but he mostly keeps quiet. Ghost doesn't mind when Price talks, he's just glad Price doesn't mind that he doesn't talk.
After a few more days pass, Ghost sees Price more frustrated. As much as any soldier would when bad intel causes injury. Ghost had gotten stabbed. Not any fatal way, but enough to hinder real progress.
But Price doesn't yell or scream or throw things. He just grumbles and paces. It's refreshing.
By the end of their mission, they're both bone tired. Ghost still falls into step as Price takes them through the debrief. They're both run through medical and since Ghost must stay overnight, Price doesn't take him to the office and dismiss him formally.
Price checks in on Ghost just as he's getting released, seeming proud like he timed it just right.
"All patched up?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll keep you at the desk for the next few days." Ghost's stomach churns before he can squash the memory. "We won't have another job for a while."
"Anything for me now, sir?"
"Nothing extra. Just what wasn't finished yesterday." Ghost nods and finds himself following wherever Price had started walking off to. "We usually use the big office but do you want to bring your papers to your barracks?"
He doesn't have to think to hard about that. "The big office not available?"
"It is. Just figured you'd want to rest in your own place. I'll let you take them anywhere."
"I'd like to use that office."
Price nods and swings by the kitchen for two meals for them. Something warm blossoms in his chest when Price is able to let them take the food into the office while Ghost works. Price lingers so they can bounce memories off each other, but they mostly sit comfortably.
"Thank you for letting me use this room," Ghost says when he's finishing up the work. "There's less distractions than my barrack."
"Noisy neighbors?"
"No, I don't fancy the quiet."
Price tilts his head in the corner of Ghost's eye but his tone remains open. "Noisy thoughts then?"
"You could say that."
That feels like a fine place to end it. With Price giving an empathetic nod and watching serenely through the far window that shows nothing but a blue sky. But Ghost takes in a breath. Sets his pen down after he signs the last page and gives in to what he wants.
"I had one a lot like it before." Price turns his attention to him, so fully Ghost has to tilt his head down under the weight of it. "Back before. When I was..."
"It's alright." Ghost realizes it's the only time he's ever cut him off.
"All the rooms before I made lieutenant were fine. Then this one... It's just so similar. And then it's quiet. I just can't ignore it."
"I can get you another one."
"No I - I don't need another. I need to put it behind me."
"Then we'll change it." Ghost looks at him now. Those kind eyes are strong and determined. Those words are everything Price has always embodied. "We'll get you souvenirs, posters, new sheets, candles. Things that will rewrite your view of it. How's that sound?"
Ghost can't find his voice. He holds that gaze and nods sharply.
"Sounds good," he says quietly. Price nods back, then Ghost gathers himself enough to speak evenly. "I've finished these now. We can take them back."
Without another word, Price rises so they may leave.
As Price sets the papers at his desk, Ghost stays beside the door to wait for instruction. He may just be sent to rest but it wouldn't be a bother to be asked to do another task. Price falls into his chair much like he'd just gotten off work. He seems comfortable. He picks up a stray mug that must've been sitting the entire time they were working and takes a drink from it, entirely neutral about the taste.
"All good work today, lad."
Ghost lets the name wash over him and takes a steadying breath. "I think so too, sir."
There's a small, content smile on Price's face today. Ghost wonders if it's because they've already rested after the op or if he's in a particularly good mood. He does like to watch the sky. Ghost lets the silence grow, not nearly as uncomfortable as the past few times.
"Nothing else is planned for you today. Just rest for the wound."
Ghost nods along slowly, expecting it. "Yes."
"Anything for me?"
He can't help the way he shifts a bit, sure he already mentioned his thoughts. "No, sir."
Ghost holds his gaze, feels like he's being taken apart but trusts enough to know he'll be put back together.
"I've a question then," Price says finally, leaning back into the comfort of the leather chair.
"Yes."
"What do you expect from me when you wait there like that?"
Ghost startles, blinking rapidly and darting his eyes down to the floor. He doesn't quite understand and feels oddly embarrassed for doing something he shouldn't without knowing. "I'm - just waiting, sir."
"For me?" Price wonders.
"No. Not you, sir. For orders."
Price hums this time and it's the first time Ghost has ever heard it toward him. Like he's being regarded. Appraised. Thought over. Ghost chances a glance at him to see Price's hand on his chin, eyes roaming his body. Ghost wants to tremble but reminds himself that he trusts him.
"Do you want to be dismissed?" he asks in that same tone he always does. Open and willing. Ready for any answer he may get.
"If you'd like me to be."
"Then stay."
"Yes, sir."
A moment passes before Price is grabbing the mug again to drink from. Ghost watches him. See the way he licks his lips just slightly from under the bush of his mustache. Wonders what's in the mug and if he would be able to find out if he were close enough to smell it. The room mostly smells like Price's favored cigar. Ghost isn't sure the name, but it clings to him.
Price powers on his monitor and it fills the room with a cheerful noise most new computors make. It's far easier on the ears than what they used to sound like years ago. The click of the mouse and keyboard are soft, rhythmic. Ghost watches his fingers dance confidently over each.
"Standing at attention isn't exactly resting," Price rumbles, pulling Ghost back from the pattering keyboard and into the weight of his own body. "Sit down so you're not straining your muscles more."
"Yes," Ghost whispers, because using his voice seems too much too soon. He looks about the room to take in two chairs between him and Price's desk. There's so much empty room to Price's sides it makes him seem like the center of attention.
When Ghost steps forward he sways with the blood rushing around after locking his knees for so long. He steadies himself on the back of the chair in front of him. It's got a cotton padded backrest, navy blue against the dark wood of the rest of the room. Ghost glances to Price's chair to notice his is also navy blue.
"Thinking about what the room looks like from this side?"
Ghost blinks up at Price's raised eyebrow. He's still faced toward the monitor but has obviously been watching him. He continues before Ghost can speak, "Guess it looks different. You can sit beside me."
"Okay."
Ghost tests the chair's drag along the floor, finds it near silent with the fabric glued to the legs. It accompanies him to Price's side. Then he positions it just right so they're level in the room, no one behind someone else. Just Ghost between the chair and Price.
He suddenly feels towering like this. Lanky and out of place above Price. And that makes him want to crumble. To give in to everything Price had offered. All of the moments he'd prepared their meals. Watched over him on the field. Allowed Ghost to stitch his wound with all the trust in the world. Ghost wants that. For as long as Price is willing to give it.
"What did I say about standing at attention..." Price muses lightly. His voice swirls around Ghost like a cloud of smoke. Coaxing him to listen and follow. So he does, he gives in just the way Ghost wants to.
Slipping his eyes closed, Ghost settles down into folded knees. He bows his head just shy of letting it droop, mostly to ease the headache he often gets after a rough mission and a trip to the bright medical wing. It takes a moment to readjust his weight on his knees and ankles, long out of practice but willing to fall back in line. He finds an odd comfort in the familiarity of setting his hands on his thighs. Getting ready for at a guarenteed few hours of just. Being.
Another part of him wiggles in discomfort. He can't be sure of what will happen when he's down here. He could be asked to do anything. Asked to be anything or anyone for him. The fear forces his eyes open.
Sees cleanly swept wooden floors. Not a single panel chipped. Smells a heavier concentration of cigar smoke and ashes. Ghost figured it would be stronger by his chair. If he were on Price's right hand side then he would just about taste the ashes in the tray at that edge. But Ghost was never allowed on His right side. It was just... habit.
And then he hears Price, breath caught in his throat and taking in each inhale like he's rationing the air. "Color me surprised."
At any other time Ghost would've made eye contact to show his attention, but he doesn't want to. Not when he's entirely embarrassed and knows Price has never punished him for avoiding his eyes. Has never punished him at all. So he angles his head down farther away and hopes he chose the right person.
"I didn't tell you to sit on the ground, now."
"Don't have to," he murmurs.
"Why not?"
"It was easy." Blissfully easy.
"Your other officers ask this of you?" Prices asks him gently. Not too quiet to be fearful or too loud to be angered.
Ghost levels his head up again. He doesn't like the thought of that. He wants to stop thinking so much and just have this. Breathing deep, he calms a bit. "Never."
"Who did you offer this for?"
Ghost shifts in place, unhappily prickly in all his layers suddenly. "No one."
He's silent for a moment. Ghost relaxes in it and lets his eyes slip closed again. It keeps his headache from getting worse.
"You were made to do this for him back there." It's not quite a statement or a question, but directed toward Ghost for evaluation anyway.
It's unappreciated and Ghost grumbles with an uneasy shuffle. "Yes, Price."
That seems to knock some sense into him because he angles back to the monitor away from Ghost, who settles back now that the attention isn't so suffocating.
"Sorry. Just not sure what to do with it," Price says. For the first time, he sounds shy. A bit uneasy. If anything, Ghost is glad for it because he didn't choose someone like Him.
"Nothing," Ghost breathes out.
He sees Price glance at him from the edge of his vision. "Alright."
And so the muted clacking of the keyboard resumes. Ghost lets himself get lost in it again. Every now and then a little woosh sound emits. He figures it's an email sent. Even that distantly reminds him of Price, with the way it sounds like a bird's wings and how Price likes to watch the sky.
As more time passes Ghost ventures into looking around the desk. He's tall enough to look right onto it by leveling his head up but it wasn't on his mind. Price's desk is filled with papers everywhere. A few piles have glass paperweights while others are under small, colored post its.
At the far edge is the nameplate facing out. The framed photo of him catching the fish. A mug of colored pens and highlighters. The mug he sips from catches Ghost's eye. There's no smell coming from it each time Price brings it closer.
"You thirsty, lad?" Ghost flinches at the words. Or maybe just the sound. He tries to focus on Price grabbing the mug instead. "It's water if you want a bit."
He doesn't feel thirsty at all, but he knows he shouldn't trust his body when he's like this, so he watches Price's open expression and figures he'll take some because he's offering.
"Yes." Price gives the mug to him easily. The water is cold against his throat, soothing.
He can see Price linger on his mouth when he hands it back and fears for a moment that he might ask for a favor.
"If you want your own full cup, you'll be left alone."
Ghost snatches his eyes away and pulls the mask back down. That sounds awful. Awfully familiar too.
"Figured," Price hums. Ghost settles back down to his head bowed slightly in an effort to ignore the thought. "I'm almost done here. Maybe another half hour. Is that okay?"
Ghost nods at the ground. It's far shorter than he anticipated, but he's more pleased that he's even here. "Yeah."
Ghost welcomes the blissful nothingness that fills his mind. Not a thought troubles his mind when he's sat beside someone who has his safety in his hands. Anything his eye lands on is pleasant. It reminds him of where he is and who he's with. It's comforting.
Ghost would be hardpressed to say he missed this, but he definitely sees the beauty in it now. Even if there wasn't any beauty in it then.
"Done here, lad." Ghost looks up to see Price clicking the corners of lots of open windows on the monitors. The computer shuts down with a twinkling sound. It plays over in his head because there's almost nothing else to do. Except push this all away, he guesses.
Ghost blinks down at himself to try to gather his mind. Takes note of all his limbs and where he'll put them as he gets up.
"Take a seat right there first." Ghost follows his hand and unfolds himself enough to deposit all his parts onto the navy padded chair. "There we go."
Ghost hums, looking down and away, not quite ready to see the world at light bulb height.
"How do you feel?" Price wonders as Ghost flexes his fingers and rolls his ankles. It'll help him to come back to and actually stand in a moment.
"Okay." Ghost catches him narrow his eyes.
"You lying to me?"
"No, sir. I'm solid."
Price frowns a bit but leans back. "Caught me off guard there. When's the last time you've done that?"
Ghost looks away to roll his shoulder. "The last time."
"Think you'll do it again?" It's open, understanding, but Ghost doesn't like it much. Price sees it. "Do you want to do it again?"
"Yes."
He nods, "Ok."
As Ghost recovers for the next few weeks, he tries not to think too hard about kneeling at Price's feet like that. It's a bit hard not to when he knows how insanely unusual it is. Luckily Price wasn't too negative about it and it actually turned out well. When Ghost was first forced to kneel beside the desk for sometimes days on end, he had mixed feelings. It kept him from enduring physical torture but allowed for starvation and sexual humiliation.
He surprised himself wanting that over again. But Price changed it. His time at his side was soothing, safe, and comforting. The fact that it's just them in the task force ensured no one else would enter. No one else would see him like that. Would try to ask it from him too. It was a thing just for the two of them.
The next mission with Price is another few days long. It's in a warm and sunny part of the world that doesn't get on their nerves like blistering heat would. Still, they must wait until night to gather information.
It leaves the day open for sleep and nothingness. For a while they take shifts getting in some sleep. Then as the sun falls lower, they keep themselves busy to get ready. Price takes apart his guns at the center table while Ghost sits beside him polishing his knives. They don't speak much like this. It's all short sentences and brief grunts until it's time to bark out callouts. The calm before the storm.
Ghost eyes Price's focused gaze and steady hands. He looks battle ready in his full kit and stern frown despite his weapong disesembled. It's a blatant show of strength that just falls off Price in a way that never could with Ghost still hiding his face.
He looks down at the rotting wood beside Price. An overwhelming urge to shrink down into that spot with his knives grips his heart. He rips his stare away. Falling into that while on a mission is dangerous. He could strain a muscle or simply not clear his head fully from the fog. Ghost takes a deep breath and offers his hand out to Price instead.
"I'll clean your knives."
Price barely gives more than a tilt of his head. "Alright."
It's the least Ghost can do while his mind begs him to take any opportunity to service for him. Now that he knows Price is safe, he wants to greedily take as much of that security Price offers.
Ghost sighs to himself, starting his work. He's got all the time in the world.
The debrief is just like any other. A pattern they fall into easily to get as much work done as possible while the information is still fresh. Ghost goes on his own to get them a tea.
He passes a few COs who look like they recognize his mask. It's common. They make tea beside him and ask if he's still under a private contractor. If he'd like to train some of their promising bunches. If promoting again sounds like something he'd fancy.
Ghost listens like he should, waits his turn before politely refusing. Tells them he prefers working alone or small groups. His place in the ranks works well for him. They've all read his file, it's why they want his skills so bad, but it also makes them relent in understanding. Always leaving him with a contact card if he's looking for something faster.
Price is still waiting for him in the big office with a grateful smile. Ghost wonders for a moment just how generously Price has been offered to give up an asset like him. He's never brought it up, and that makes something warm fill his chest.
Their paperwork isn't done until the next day. Then Ghost is lingering beside the door and listening to Price tell him he did a good job.
Ghost tilts his head down just slightly in the ghost of a bow. "You too, sir. Nothing amiss."
Price waves a hand out slowly to the door, "You're dismissed."
Ghost takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders, his hands coming down to rest by his sides instead of clasped behind his back. "Thank you. May I... stay?"
Price isn't visibly surprised but he does scratch his beard in thought. "How long do you like to stay?" he wonders.
Ghost shrugs easily. "A while."
"What's the longest you've been?"
"Three and a half days."
"Ah." And suddenly Price's earlier question about if half an hour was alright puts this into perspective.
Ghost goes to sit in the cotton chair in front of the desk, knowing this will need some time. "I don't want that again. I'll work around you, Price."
Price hums, nodding in agreement. "How long do you want?"
"Three hours. No more than six. No less than one."
"Can I leave you?"
Ghost sighs into the chair a bit more, looking around the room in an effort to find his place in it when he's still like this. "Not yet. And not for too long."
"Okay. How often do you want this?"
"Once a week. I... want it. But I don't need it. I'll work around you."
"I know, lad," he rumbles soothingly. He remains leaning back in his chair but swipes up a pen to jot something down. "Just in here?"
"Yes. Alone."
"Of course. Do you want anything from me?"
Ghost takes a moment for that one. His presence seems enough. "Relative quiet. But I can do simple questions. And I want my own cup."
"Done." His smile is charming. Reassuring. "And if the time is cut short?"
Ghost scowls under his mask. "I'll need some time to... come back. Longer than normal. But I'll be able to work if it comes to it."
"Alright." Price writes one last thing down before setting the pen to the side. "Anything else before today?"
Ghost leans up, already excited to try it out again, and much longer this time. "No. I'd like to change."
"Then I'll grab you a water."
So begins the... arrangement. Ghost isn't sure what else to call it. Price is no better since he seems twice as embarrassed as Ghost whenever he brings it up.
Those first three hours were wonderful. Just pure bliss. Like a nap for his body but a swim for his mind. Price had been doing lord knows what on his computer. Ghost hadn't seen much clicking about but when he did look up, there was usually a video on the screen. It was all fine. Perfect even, and it makes it all more lovely knowing he can have this again.
Price surprises him on their next mission by asking one of the local allies for a cup. The very same cup he presents to Ghost for the little sips of water he'll likely forget to take often enough. There's nothing entirely special about the mug but it was chosen by Price. Not as just some piece of ceramic he snagged off this base. It's something ordinary turned unique for their time together.
Ghost adores the thought. Shows it by bowing his head deeper. Price flusters.
As the months go on, Ghost finds himself wanting more things during their time. He asks Price each time and is given a thoughtful pause just before an accepting nod.
He brings his knives to polish first. Neatly laid out on the wooden for him to clean and admire. Another day he asks for Price's own handgun. He picks it apart carefully and puts it back together all shiny and new. He does it a few more times through the hours before he uses the rest of his time to sit cross legged silently.
Their missions go smoother than ever as well. Ghost has been subconsciously watching Price for ticks and tells for his mood. He nearly anticipates everything he might need and gets rewarded with a fiercely proud grin each successful sweep.
Price's attitude toward him had changed slightly. At the beginning, he would flush red often, which would startle Ghost because it was the first time he'd ever seen him blush. As he watched closer, Ghost noticed him hesitate asking for him to do mundane things on and off base. He seems to struggle with having Ghost so blatantly at his feet. Like he's afraid he'll ask for too much. By telling Ghost to run some papers across the hall. Ghost understands, and takes it upon himself to tell him so.
"I chose you because I trust your judgement, Price."
"And what if I overstep?"
"You won't. I won't let you."
"I can't put everything on you. Especially if you're too gone to tell me properly."
Ghost frowns. "Alright. We need a signal. To clearly indicate when I'm beneath you."
Price blushes bright at that. "Good. I'll leave that to you then."
Ghost shakes his head at the irony but leaves the conversation at that.
He finds a bedside light about to be thrown out, cleans it up, and gifts it. Price fixes it with a visibly more amber remote control bulb and places the remote where the both of them can access it. It settles Price a lot more than Ghost thought it would, so he asks for something new once their routine has gotten easier.
He asks Price to pull out his chair a bit more, just enough for Ghost to crawl in close and rest his cheek against his leg. Price tenses for the first few minutes but when Ghost adamantly ignores the reaction, showing how unaffected and comfortable it can be, he ends up picking up a nearby book to read. Ghost nearly dozes right there.
It gives him an entirely new train of thought he plans out well before bringing it up to Price. Ghost want to sleep in his own bed with Price on overwatch. Then he'll end their time after Price feels satisfied. Price is understandably bewildered at the thought. He argues it's not quite what they discussed and makes him feel far more like a predator than he'd ever when they started.
But Ghost worked it all out and tells him to think of it like another mission, simply taking care of him. Price grumbles in the face of Ghost displaying all the details but ultimately relents.
He stays at Ghost's desk for the first time, illuminated by the amber bedside lamp moved in and typing away answering emails he's abstained from all day while Ghost rests sleepily on his leg. When Price finishes his emails, he ruffles Ghost's uncovered hair to tell him he's off to make them tea. Ghost blinks in response, knowing he won't be getting anything caffeinated.
He waits by the desk stock still until Price returns. He's handed his personal mug of warm milk. It's not what he was expecting but the way Price doesn't look at him tells him he'll take what he's given and he drinks from it without objection. Price opens up a book while Ghost finishes his drink.
When he offers back the empty mug, Price raises his eyebrows impressively. "Go lay down. I'll be up for a while."
Ghost follows the order silently. He tucks himself into bed and watches blearily as Price continues his book. Occassionally, he sees him marking the pages but he falls alseep a lot faster than he anticipated.
Ghost wakes up by a gentle nudging to his side. The room is darkly illuminated by their amber light with a blanket thrown over. He blinks awake to look at Price's own tired face. He was sleeping for a moment too at Ghost's bedside, he knows.
"I'm going to head back," he rumbles.
Ghost nods with his eyes half closed, pulling himself up to stand beside him. Price guides him to the desk with a hand on his neck. It makes him feel smaller though he towers over Price at nearly every instance.
A special cup waits for him. Price carries it to his lips to sip. It's lemonade. Cooled slightly and diluted by the ice cubes left from the hours before. It starts up his foggy, sleepy mind like an old truck rumbling back to life. He hums around it, letting himself enjoy the heavy hand on his nape as he slowly comes to. His sleep was dreamless. Pleasant and restful. By far one of the most comfortable he's had in that room since he's been assigned to it.
When he's ready, Ghost takes the blanket off the lamp and looks to Price. He smiles warmly beneath his mustache, then Ghost turns it off.
That night was like a turning point for Ghost. A blatant show of trust and companionship off the field that he didn't think he needed. He doesn't believe he does anymore, but he's so glad he was able to show Price such a vulnerable side of himself.
Soon after, Ghost breaks the news and tells Price he's ready to add more soldiers into this task force of theirs. Yes, theirs.
When the first two sergeants role in, they're wide eyed and fidgeting. They lean on each other as they learn the new ropes of the task force. And they look up to Ghost as an example of how they may object and offer some new insight when speaking to Price.
They listen well to Ghost, who allows them to be rowdier than a normal lieutenant would, because he knows now just how much they need this space to adapt to their ways of coping.
After long days of teaching and being taught with the sergeants, coming back from rough missions, spending short times in the infirmary, Ghost still finds himself lingering by Price's door. Price watches him stare longingly at the amber light they've hidden the remote to until he's asked if he'd like to take a seat. And Ghost will say yes like he should, take the remote from its safe place, and watch it glow bright from his place at Price's feet.
He owes everything to Price. He owes him his piece of mind and his softening features. He owes him every bow of his head though Price still huffs out a shy little sound when he sees it.
If Price hadn't given him such an inviting space to find a home in, he would still be off to the sidelines as Price would teach directly to the new sergeants. He would watch and wait for orders just like any other soldier. He would still fill out papers in a muted concrete box of a room that filled his heart with ice.
Now, he watches over their growing task force fondly right beside Price. Each night's sleep better than the last as his walls fill with trinkets of past missions and blurry photos.
His past is no longer something that looms over him, but a part of him that he's grasped and remolded into something he'll take control of, with Price helping to clear the way. And when he wants it, Price will be smiling down at him with a warm ruffle of his hair, Simon humming contently at his feet.