Work Text:
but you spoke some quick new music
that went so far to soothe this soul
as it was
and ever shall be
unearth without a name
— hozier; first time
Price had mentioned that he had plans to start a new task force to Gaz multiple times, but it was always in passing moments and he had never said anything more.
He never provided more details other than the fact he was looking for a few soldiers to recruit.
"I have a few on my mind," Price muttered one time.
They had been sitting in his office space and Price had been mindlessly swaying in his chair while Gaz worked on some forms that needed to be filled out.
"And who are you thinkin' about?" Gaz inquired.
"You'll meet them in due time, don't worry. But," he groaned and sat up in his chair, leaning closer to the other male across from him. "I think you'll get along just fine."
Gaz didn't know if that was supposed to calm the distant nerves that he felt, but it made him a little more worried than before.
Much later in the week, in an attempt to calm down, he wandered over to the empty common room and sagged onto the couch.
He had been dressed in something a bit more casual than his usual required attire: a worn-out army green shirt, loose fitting blue jeans, and standard tims.
Gaz let his head fall and hit the back of the couch with a tired sigh. There was too much going on in his head. So, he was going to rest his eyes (and not fall asleep) for a few minutes—maybe calm down the millions of thoughts racing through his head.
Just a few minutes to relax and gather himself.
What he didn't know was that the second official member of Task force 141, who had just landed on base mere minutes ago, would enter the room he had been chilling in.
When Ghost had been requested to join this new task force, he didn’t really know what to expect. Every other group he had been in was the same song-and-dance, but they were directed by captains that didn’t care about their men—they were nothing but pawns in a chess game where the king was the only piece that mattered. And even then, Ghost never stayed too long, always being sent somewhere else to serve another purpose. Always on the move and always sent off to direct another group; never enough time to sit down and relax, never enough time to think and reconsider.
Simon appreciated it. He appreciated not having to think for himself. If the higher-ups saw him as nothing but an object to be moved around, then he didn't have to worry about acting human—he could just be Ghost and not have to worry about Simon.
But this task force was supposed to be different. It was run by Captain John Price, a man Ghost had interacted with many times in his past. He’s known Ghost since the days he wore the name Simon Riley proudly on his uniform; since the days before Roba destroyed him—when he was nothing but a talented Sergeant looking to make a difference in his life and Price was a newly promoted Lieutenant.
Price was somewhat of a fatherly figure to Simon, which is why he wasn’t sure what to expect for a task force that was genuine.
So, on the flight over to the new base, he had a lot of free-time on his hands to sit and think. He had hours upon hours of time to think about the other members he'd have to work with, about how'd they treat him.
Ghost, of course, didn't even care about what the hypothetical members would think of him—he was used to the stares and the rumors he'd receive from others. If anything, he hoped the members would be like the rest; that they would leave him alone unless there was a mission.
After being airborne for many hours and lost in deep thought, the helo finally landed and everything felt as though it came to a sudden pause. Ghost realized this was where he was going to be stationed for as long as the task force remained.
Now all he needed to do was meet up with Captain Price and finalize everything else, then he would be considered an official member of Task Force 141.
So, he picked a direction that he hoped would be the right way to find the Captain and kept his head up.
What he didn’t expect to see on the way was another member sitting in what he assumed was the commons room.
The approaching footsteps was the first thing that was brought to Gaz's attention. Then, it was the sudden lack of movement. He thought, at first, that it was just Price walking around to grab himself something, but then the silence stayed there for a while—untouched and unbothered.
There was a significant lack of Price's cigar smoke, his casual banter, his everything. Maybe that wasn't Price in the room.
Gaz slowly opened his eyes and looked around until he was another man. Someone covered head-to-toe in clothes and heavy military gear. He was a tall fucker and muscular under all those layers.
And then there was the skull mask and balaclava—it hid the man's entire face except for those intoxicating brown eyes.
That was the first thing Gaz noticed. It brought a light coloring to his cheeks as he stared at the man. The man stared back with a calculating gaze that did nothing but inspect Gaz's form.
Gaz realized they were staring at each other in complete silence. He didn't know who would break such odd tension first.
"Quite the tall fucker, what the hell did they feed you," and amazing conversational skills Garrick, absolutely fucking fantastic.
Surprisingly, the masked man let out a huff of air at the sudden comment. He was also taken aback by it, but also didn't mind hearing it.
"Drank lots of milk as a kid," the man joked.
Gaz could help the chuckle that came out of him.
"I can tell," he responded with a smile on his face. The air of the room felt more relaxed and both men no longer felt as stiff around each other.
"The name's Kyle Garrick, but I go by Gaz."
He stood up and approached the mask man with an inviting smile. He stuck his hand out for a friendly handshake.
The man seemed to hesitate at first, but then the conflict in his eyes came to a rapid conclusion and shook Gaz's hand in return.
"The name's Ghost, rest is classified," he muttered.
"Ah, a mysterious fellow ain't cha?" Gaz joked. "I respect that. Nice to meet you, Ghost.
"Likewise."
"Now, were you on your way to Price?" he asked. Ghost nodded in response.
"Do you even know where his office is?" Ghost shook his head. Gaz chuckled.
"Well then, I'll just lead the way. Then maybe… I could give you a tour around base. This place isn't massive, but it's like a maze if you don't know where you're goin'," Gaz began to ramble as he led Ghost towards Price's office space.
The base had been like a maze filled with too many turns and too many rooms—Gaz was right about that. But, Ghost very quickly learned where he needed to go to get to places like the shooting range or the cafeteria.
It turned out that Gaz was a damn good tour guide.
When they stopped outside of the Captain's office door, Gaz came to a stop.
"Well, this is your stop. I'll be back in the commons if you need me. You know how to get back there?" Ghost silently nodded.
"Not much of a talker, but that's alright," Gaz shrugged. "I'll talk to you later, Ghost." He waved Ghost farewell.
His chest felt lighter than it had ever felt before. His heart was racing and his palms were slightly sweaty, but he had just met the man—there was no way. Maybe he was coming down with something… yeah… just feeling a little off. Nothing some tea couldn't fix.
Ghost had a similar feeling in his chest, but he ignored it because it was a feeling he had not been familiar with. So, he opened Price's door and focused on other things.
"Simon!" Price had happily greeted the man. "Take a seat son." Ghost has followed his directions.
"Just fill out this form for the higher-ups, then I'll show you to your room."
Ghost had done just that. He handed the filled out form to Price along with the pen he had borrowed.
"Welcome to Task Force 141, Lieutenant."