Work Text:
It all started so quietly.
The occasional canceled plan, outings cut short, sudden trips to the restroom that lasted way longer than they should've, the little petals decorating the Base's corridors.
He should've seen the signs.
It all came to a head one evening, Ghost and Soap had been called into Price's office to receive details regarding a new mission. They sat in those painful wooden chains in front of Price's desk, watching as their captain rifled through papers and rattled off information.
"...This mission is gonna be long and hard, but I need you both to make sure it gets done right," Price said as he handed Ghost a manilla folder, a single paper clip sticking out the top.
Ghost flipped through the folder as Soap leaned over his shoulder.
Their assignment was to watch a suspicious group that had begun exchanging communications with a known big-wig in the drug dealing industry from, funnily enough, a local pharmacy; they needed to infiltrate the group, gather intel, and get out. Didn't seem too hard. One problem: no action could be taken because of how up in the drug dealing ranks this guy was. If they were found out, no one was coming to help.
One wrong move and they could have a whole drug empire on their asses.
Soap chuckled, "Good ol' recognizance, huh? We can handle that, right L.T.?" Ghost nodded, closing the folder and standing.
"When will we be leaving?" He asked.
Price's devilish grin answered well enough, "That’s what I like to hear. You'll be leaving later today. You boys should get packed, it's gonna be a long one."
With a quick 'sir', Ghost and Soap left the small office and set off to pack. Walking down their respective hallways, quiet coughing could be heard echoing along the blank walls.
...
Infiltrating the group should’ve been harder than it actually was.
Taking new identities, Ghost and Soap quickly took up their new part-time jobs at this little pharmacy located in literal butt-fuck no where; their usual clientele consisting of old people one foot in the grave and stragglers looking for a bathroom.
For almost two months, they spent their days surrounded by the smell of antiseptics and really strong perfume and nights holed up in a dingy apartment watching traffic fly by. Ghost, with a lot of grumbling and complaining, traded in his usual balaclava from a black surgical mask and hoodie; pieces of his blonde hair stuck out at odd angles every time he put his hood down. Ghost hated it, but Soap thought it was oddly cute.
While together, Soap noticed a few interesting things about his lieutenant: Ghost absolutely hated peaches, it was a talent the way the man avoided the fruits like the plague; the man started smoking outside after Soap mentioned how the smoke bothered him one evening; Ghost wouldn't be caught dead wearing sandals outside on a grocery run, especially without socks; on the off chance his insomnia didn’t keep him up until sunrise, Ghost sounded like a lawnmower with a rock caught up in the blades.
Soap didn’t know what to do learning these things. Sure, they’d gone on long stake out missions like this before, but this was the first time he'd taken note of these little quirks. He didn’t know when he started making that little list of things he’d noticed about Ghost while on this mission, but that list was quickly growing.
Honestly, it was a nice change of pace.
Usually, they’d be on missions where their lives were at stake every moment; but, here, in this little dinghy ass apartment with their nine to five jobs, it almost felt normal. It felt like a normal life he could have.
With Ghost.
…
“How many do I have to tell you? The ibuprofen is in aisle five along with any other painkillers, eye drops are in aisle seven. You’d think you’d have it memorized with how many times you come in here,” Soap said as the customer leaned over the counter, fiddling with the keys they had attached at their belt loop.
“Well,” they started, “guess my memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“Dementia medicine is in aisle two,” Soap responded as he reorganized the cigarette shelves behind him.
The customer balked before storming out.
“Have a nice day!” Soap shouted as the customer turned around and flipped him off, the automatic doors punctuating the gesture as they closed behind them. Man, Soap loved his job.
“You know we have to keep these jobs, right?” Soap startled, dropping a few packs of cigarettes as he turned and saw Ghost standing by a rack of candy bars.
“How long were you standing there?”
Ghost thought for a second as he picked up a candy bar, “Oh not long, just for the part about dementia medicine.”
Soap slumped against the counter as Ghost made his way over, “Honestly Johnny, I couldn’t help but think you didn’t like that customer.”
Placing the bar on the counter, Soap straightened up and gave Ghost a confused look.
“Really? What gave it away?” Soap scanned the candy bar, “Getting cigarettes with that?”
“No, thinkin’ about quitting.”
“Wow, never thought I’d see the day.” Placing the bar in a small plastic bag, Soap handed it over with a smile.
“What made ya want to quit?”
Ghost looked at Soap for a second before taking the bag, “I don’t know. Just got the urge.”
And with that, Ghost left.
…
“How long are we gonna be staying here?” Soap asked as he leaned back in his chair. It’d been about four months since the start of the mission and they hadn’t gotten anything from working at the pharmacy. The only suspicious thing there was the fact that dementia medicine guy came back for another round. Maybe they really did need to look into getting a prescription.
Ghost sighed, "Soap, I swear to God, if you don't shut up and do your job I'm gonna leave you bleeding on the fucking ground."
"Aw, at least use your favorite knife to shank me," Soap chuckled as he got up from his seat. Grumbling followed him into the kitchen as he looked through their fridge for the fifth time, still surprised to see absolutely nothing there.
"What do ya say we order in?"
"You ate less than an hour ago."
"And? I'm a growing boy, I need my protein to grow big and strong."
"I'm sure you've done all your growing already, Sergeant."
"We'll never know if I'm starved half to death," Soap couldn’t help the fact that he had a black hole in his stomach. He was still hungry and he could tell Ghost was probably getting hungry too, he hadn't seen him eat for almost a week.
Soap was honestly getting worried about him.
During one of Ghost’s shifts at the pharmacy, some guys came in looking to talk to the head supervisor who just so happened to be their main man of interest. Ghost tried gathering intel from their interaction but…something went wrong. He never told Soap what happened, but he came home looking pale and coughing like he just couldn't get any air. Since they weren’t being extracted, it couldn’t have been something that blew the mission.
Maybe he was getting sick? As crazy as it seemed, Ghost was still just as human as the rest under the skull print and tactical gear.
Even the grim reaper could feel under the weather.
"If you're really still hungry, there's a convenience store down the street," Soap pouted, unflinching as Ghost just stared back unamused.
With a sigh, Soap grabbed Ghost’s coat and his keys, "Want anything while I'm out?"
Ghost shook his head and, with a wave, sent Soap on his way.
It was hotter than expected, especially for mid-August. August usually had you freezing your fucking balls off, especially in the town they were held up in. Maybe the coat wasn't the best idea. Still, the smell of flowers wafting off the garment was comforting enough to forget the heat.
Oh well.
As he entered the convenience store, a short teenager welcomed him and let him know they could help with whatever. He gave them his signature smile and walked through the food aisles. He wasn't really feeling anything but something was better than nothing.
He grabbed a random food and started walking toward the front when he spotted something: it was a specific brand of candy Ghost really liked. He always bought it from the pharmacy, coming home with an arm full of the stuff after every shift. He’d also seen a bunch of them on base in Ghost’s room (which he definitely didn't see when he totally wasn’t snooping through Ghost's things one late Tuesday night). Other than the candy bars and a few trinkets Soap had given him, his room was completely spotless.
Snagging a few bars and some cold medicine, he walked to the front and paid. It wasn’t much, but Soap hoped he would at least get the candy and medicine in his system. That man couldn't take care of himself even with his life on the line.
Soap knew that his neglect wouldn’t be easily cured by some candy and cold medicine, but he hoped it could be a start in the right direction. He appreciated the man, cherished him even, and he wanted Ghost to know that.
If Soap had a little skip in his step thinking about seeing his L.T. smile, well, no one had to know.
...
Surprisingly, when Soap got back to the apartment, Ghost was nowhere in sight. Soap felt his stomach drop as he set the bag down and began clearing each room. Still no sign of Ghost.
The only place left to check was the bathroom.
With silent steps, Soap walked toward the bathroom and tested the door.
Unlocked.
Soap didn't know his stomach could drop any lower.
Hunched over the small trash can sat his Lieutenant, mask pulled down under his chin as petals fell from his mouth.
He'd only ever heard about it in stories—myths conjured up by sadistic story tellers with their soul crushing tales.
"Ghost...?"
Ghost looked up at him, eyes welling with tears as a fit of coughs took over.
"Ghost!" Soap fell to his knees, softly patting Ghost's back as he heaved and sputtered more petals. The little waste bin was overflowing with bright blue petals, newer ones drifting into a growing pile on the floor.
When it seemed like the coughing was coming to an end, another fit would begin wrecking Ghost's body.
"Ghost, please. I need you to breathe for me. I know it's hard, but...I need you to breathe."
Ghost tried shaking his head but it was hardly readable with how much his body shook. Soap didn't know what to do. Questions flooded his mind as he watched his friend seize: What do I do? Should I call Price? How could this happen?
But the loudest question ringing in his ears made him hate himself: Who is it?
After a couple more nauseating fits, Ghost began breathing almost normally. Flower petals still stuck to his lips as he tried speaking, his usual timber replaced with a harsh and painful rasp, "Johnny...You need to leave"
Soap couldn't stop the exasperated look of surprise that took over his face.
"What do you mean 'you need to leave'?! There's no way in hell I'm leaving you like this," he could feel himself shaking as the words seemed to force themself out, "I'll call Price, he'll know what to do—"
"No. Johnny," Ghost grabbed his shoulder, shaking it as he carefully punctuated his next words, "You. Need. To. Go."
Ghost hunched over again, a glob of petals stuck in his throat and refusing to come out. He kept hacking and struggling to breathe—Soap could feel his struggle underneath his finger tips.
The clump finally came out with one hard cough, hitting the ground with a wet splat.
Ghost tried pushing Soap away, trembling from the effort, “Johnny.”
Soap grabbed his arms, "I'm not leaving you! Why can't you get that! I will never leave you!"
Tears threatened to fall as the coughing started up again, soon morphing into hacking and heaving as Soap desperately searched for his phone.
"You can't die on me! I need you to hang on a bit longer, okay? I'll call Price, he can help. Please, Simon! I need you! I—Fuck, I LOV—"
"Johnny," Ghost looked up at him, eyes defeated as he took one last shaky breath, "It's too late."
…
Soap woke up like he did every morning: running to the bathroom, petals following in his wake as he began coughing up those damn blue petals.