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It was just a finally boring day going through endless files. Not something that happened frequently, so it was good albeit boring.
They were helping the Captain get rid of old files, getting them archived.
Ghost was taking filled boxes over to the Archives and dealing with the endless paperwork to archive the properly, while Gaz and Soap sorted through them all.
Price was pulled from the thing by Laswel, once again and would never be able to de-clutter his office without help.
It was a damn good excuse to be inside and on the AC instead of outside frying their brains out in the sun. Worst day of summer and all that. Five hours in and they definitely were questioning their decisions. And they were far from over.
"Hey, Simon, got another big one done here"
Simon groaned, he was starting to hate those big boxes. Heavy mother fuckers he needed to carry to the opposite side of the base. You try carrying heavy boxes for five hours and help the poor skinny lad to rearrange thousands of boxes so you could just put another one in. He was getting fucking old. And oh, don't let him forget that the fucking idiot fucker dropped the godforsaken shelf ON HIMSELF.
Meaning Ghost jumping under so the idiot wouldn't die crushed. Thank god the imbecile wasn't on field duty.
"Can't you get those in two smaller boxes?"
Gaz patted the offending item instead of trying to push it towards Ghost. He definitely wouldn't lift that shit again.
"Sorry, mate, Captain said these should go together."
"Of course he said.. the bastard."
As Ghost carried the box through the base, Soap started on another drawer.
Spreading papers and files on the desk, until he found something.
"Hey Ky, check this out."
"What is it?"
"Think it's a book..?"
"What do you mean you think it's a book? Quite easy to tell no?"
"No, ye dafty! Think it's a story book.. but like a manuscript..? Here.."
Gaz crossed over to take a look, and sure, it was a manuscript. With Price handwriting at that.
"Do you think he finished it?"
Soap checked the end of the book, and found the classic "the end" line.
"Yeah, seems complete."
The sat down on the old ass couch price had on the office, book in hand.
"Let's take a couple of minutes yeah, we deserve it, I'll say"
The Scot kicked his boots off and manhandled Kyle to lay on the couch, back to his chest.
"Good, just like I read to my niece."
Gaz giggled and helped to hold the book while Soap started to read. His Scottish accent filling the room.
Nice and soothing voice.
Damn they should make this a common occurrence.
Couple of pages in, Ghost opened the door.
One look at them and he collapsed on the floor near Gaz head.
"Taking some time I see. Lazy."
Gaz turned on Soap's chest, laying on his front to drape a arm over Ghost's
shoulder.
They quickly told he they found a book and filled him on the story so far.
Ghost let his head roll back against Soap's side and held Kyle's arm while he listened to the story.
Soap was a damn good reader, flexing his voice a bit for the characters lines, pulling his emphasis on the right times, his voice low and a bit rough, but soothing and wonderfully calm.
Ghost listened for what he counted as a full hour. Soap's voice growing lower and lower until he fell asleep, cradling Gaz to his chest. He was almost dozing off himself when the Captain finally came back. He didn't move as John closed the door and placed yet more files on the desk.
"You boys seem cozy."
"They found a book. Soap has been reading it to us. A beautiful story."
Price leaned on the table, crossing his arms.
"A love story that never came to be."
The fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by Gaz light snoring.
"You should tell him."
"It's been a long time son. No good in dwelling in the past."
"He still stands by you, John, to this day."
"The army doesn't see those very well."
"People like us, you mean? I say fuck them. You gave us a chance to be together. I think we can do the same for you."
Price lowered his head, playing with the tags around his neck. Tags that didn't carry his name.
"It might be too late. We're both old."
"I would tell you to write your own love story but you already did that. Just a matter of stopping being obtuse."
"You're shit at this."
"Tell him."
Price didn't answer, but he plucked the book from Soap's hands. He picked at the cover, ripping the paper and revealing a picture.
His love story staring at him from the Polaroid.
Maybe. Just maybe.