Chapter Text
"But now this room is spinning while I'm trying just to fill in all the gaps."
Safety Net
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Swooning
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"How many fingers am I holding up?"
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【DAY ONE】
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When Price and Ghost had first met each other, the moment was sweeter than expected and a new path had opened up for the both of them.
Ghost had been a simple sergeant: Sergeant Simon Riley. A young man who wanted to do something important in his life, to give himself a purpose—to show the others that he wasn't useless, but instead, useful.
Price had been nothing but a hopeful lieutenant: Lieutenant John Price. A man who hoped to climb the ranks and create a good kind of change in the world.
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"You are all dismissed!" A lieutenant called out, before he walked away to wherever he resided.
Simon, as well as his other sergeants, stood in the line very relieved to finally get the rest of their day to do things of their choosing. They all separated into their groups of friends that they had quickly made since coming here, while Simon lingered quietly behind.
He stood awkwardly, lacking a group of any kind as he fiddled with the dog tags that hung around his throat—a nervous tick he had begun to develop.
He looked at the other soldiers with desperate want in his eyes—the want to chat amongst them, the want to bond with others so easily—and yet he had none. He lacked something. He wanted to be like them, and yet, they wanted nothing to do with him; for that, he never knew why because he had always been different. He quickly learned to accept that no one would make any kind of exception for him.
That was when Lieutenant Price, someone who was watching all the training take place from afar, approached the lonely young soldier.
"Sergeant," he called out.
Simon barely hid the fact that he jumped out of surprise, though he was glad he didn't yelp.
"Lieutenant," Simon quickly stood at attention.
Price chuckled to himself and gave a dismissive wave.
"At ease, soldier. I'm not here to scold you."
Simon hesitantly let down his guard, though his eyes remained cautious and wary.
"Then, why are you here? Are you here to poke fun like the rest?" Simon's eyebrows furrowed with a negative emotion that was barely present, more like fear hidden under the mask of anger.
"No, no, no," Price shook his head. "I'm just here to talk. You are the only one here without someone else, just thought I'd join."
Simon was taken aback at first.
"If you don't mind me asking," Price began, "why aren't you joining any of them?"
Simon's hand subconsciously trailed back to the dog tags around his neck—a motion Price had noticed was a sign of hesitation and nervousness.
"They… they do not like me. I'm too weird for them. I don't really know why. I wish I could, but they are very… abusive."
"Do they hurt you?"
Simon remained silent. He looked everywhere but at the man in front of him.
Price felt the subject had gone too sour, and instead, decided to change the subject instead.
"Who's on the dog tags? You've got two sets."
"Uhm… it's an old… partner of mine."
"Someone back at home?"
"No… No. My partner—was a soldier that used to be here, but he died in the field a couple months ago. We gave each other our spare dog tags in memory, if one of us were to die… and he did."
"I'm so sorry for your loss," Price sympathized. He placed a comforting hand upon Simon's shoulder, one that sagged in his revived grief.
"He took a bullet that was meant for me… He didn't deserve it," Simon's lips trembled as tears gathered in his eyes, but he did not let them fall, nor did he cry.
"No one deserves a death like that," Price reassured.
Simon wiped the sorrow from his face and took a deep breath.
"What is your name anyways?" He asked, looking at the lieutenant.
"John Price, but you can just call me Price," he gave a smile, one that Simon's heart had quietly melted for.
"Nice to meet you, Price. I'm Simon Riley."
"Do you want to go to the commons with me, Simon? I want to be friends."
Simon's eyes lit up like late night stars.
"Really? You mean it?"
"Yes, I do," Price chuckled.
"You promise? You're not playing me?"
"No, why would I? I'm not with those assholes over there."
"Then… Then I trust you."
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"So, Simon, I want to get the title of Captain soon—maybe lead a team of my own. When I do, I want you as my lieutenant."
"Lieutenant?! But, that's… why me?"
Price and Simon had been in Price's quarters, talking with each other like they've always done since they first met.
"What? You would make a great lieutenant, Si!"
Simon blushed a deep red.
"I'm not ready to be one yet…"
"Soon, you will be. We will move up the ranks by the next ceremony, together."
Simon smiled and perked up like a happy puppy.
"Is that a promise, Captain?"
Price felt a shiver travel through his body—one that he did not voice out loud.
"It is a promise, Lieutenant."
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It was actually many years later, when both Lieutenant John Price became a Captain and Sergeant Simon Riley became a Lieutenant.
Simon was beyond ecstatic.
He ran to Price's quarters like a happy puppy. He didn't even bother to knock before he entered.
"Price!"
Price had been sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at the walls of his room—zoning out into a world even Simon could not follow. But, the man was snapped out of his trance the moment Simon barged in.
"Simon," Price stood up, a weak smile on his face. He let his hands drift to the younger man's waist with a delicate, feather light touch.
"What's wrong? Why are your eyes so sad? What happened?" Simon questioned, now concerned for the other.
"It's…" Price searched for the right words. "What did you want to tell me?"
"I am to become a lieutenant by the next ceremony, like we promised. Are you…?"
"Yes," Price nodded, "I will be a Captain just as I promised… but…"
"What? What's wrong, John?"
"When I am rewarded my new rank, I will be moved to a different unit for a while, but I don't know how long."
Simon's eyes widened and he pushed away from the other man. Tears gathered in his visage, and he let them fall freely.
"You're … You're leaving me?"
"Against my will."
Simon's heart crackled, and quickly crumbled.
"But… you promised. Why are you leaving?"
"It's not my choice, Si… If I had the choice, it would not be to leave you behind."
Price pulled Simon into his arms, squeezing him tightly as the younger man crumbled into a quiet mess of sobs.
"Why do you have to leave me," Simon weakly cried. "Why, why, why?!"
Price placed a light kiss on Simon's head, tears of his own falling from his eyes.
"I will come back to you, that, I will promise, Simon. Do you understand?"
Simon quietly nodded. Price wiped the tears from his face and gave a small smile—one that Simon struggled to reciprocate.
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The day that their paths crossed again, a few months before Task Force 141 was formed.
General Shepard had requested a quick intel drop with Captain John Price and Ghost.
Things had been going well. They both worked perfectly together, like two perfectly fitted puzzle pieces; yet, there was something missing. That connection that they once shared all those years ago had been incredibly muted, and Price could feel it more than anything.
He focused on the mission. He tried his best to put the changes off to the side, but he couldn't help but mourn what he and Ghost used to have.
That was when the train of their solid plan was quickly derailed by one thing…an ambush.
The ambush forced the duo into finding refuge in a nearby safe house where exfil would be unable to find them for the next 48 hours.
"I'll take the first watch," Price proposed. Ghost was too tired to disagree and begrudgingly laid down on the old cot and closed his eyes.
Price's mind was quick to drift down paths of old memories, a nostalgic feeling washing over him in the peace and quiet.
Then, Price was brought back into reality with the small, frail noise of Ghost's fear.
The man had curled in on himself as his body trembled like a leaf in the wind; cries left his mouth like a wounded animal.
"Simon?" Price called.
Price slowly approached the man's quivering figure. He wanted to reach out to the vulnerable masked man, but he hesitated as his hand hung in the air for a few moments.
In the end, he didn't even need to shake the man into wakefulness, because Ghost sat up quickly with his breath caught in his throat.
"Simon, it was just a nightmare, you're okay," Price comforted, his voice quiet and soft.
Tears fell down Ghost's cheeks beneath the mask, yet his eyes were wide and unfeeling.
"You with me, Si?" Price asked, ducking down a little to meet the man's sorrowful eyes.
"Breathe for me, love, breathe for me."
Simon struggled to do so. He was panicking too much to process any form of instruction. But he still tried his hardest, and his efforts did not go unnoticed.
"Good, good. How many fingers am I holding up?"
Simon bit back another sob. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but after a few moments, he got a few words out.
"Th…Three."
"Good job, Simon, good job. Can I touch you now?"
Simon gave a barely there nod, still breathing too fast as he bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw some blood.
The gesture comforted Simon more than anything ever would as the emotional man leaned into Price's delicate touch.
"I've got you, Simon, I've got you," Price cooed softly. Simon openly wept into Price's shoulder, emotions he's long hidden finally rearing their angry heads forward.
"Don't…don't leave me again," Simon cried. Price felt a pain pierced through his heart—a heavy pang of guilt.
"I won't. I'm not leaving you ever again," Price squeezed the man in his arms tighter, and placed a light peck on the top of Simon's head.
"You promise?"
"I promise."