Chapter Text
The air was humid and murky as they trudged through the moor, deep in the heart of Scotland. Ghost had long since grown annoyed with the weather, though he kept his mouth clear of complaints. Soap looked more relaxed than he usually was on a mission, his mind put at ease by being back in his motherland. He turned to look at his sergeant, noticing the way he scanned the area around them lazily. It was another few miles of walking through mush and plant life before they neared the base they were sent to infiltrate. It was a simple mission: get in and find some important documents before leaving before anyone noticed. The pair had arrived in Scotland that morning, beginning their journey as soon as dusk made itself known.
“Hey, Lt., Why did the soldier bring a ladder to the battlefield?”
Ghost hummed in question, signaling for the sergeant to continue. “He was trying to climb the ranks.” The lieutenant huffed out a dry chuckle, rolling his eyes gently.
“That’s even worse than the one I usually tell.” Soap playfully nudges the man as they walk side by side, hearing the soft crunch of grass and dirt below their feet.
Well… Not all of us can be comedians, Ghost.”
“That’s for sure.” Ghost mumbled quietly, feeling a gentle breeze rush through the tall grass around them. Despite the air and squelching under his feet, he could admit it was rather peaceful out there. They had been walking for a few miles, the sun settling gently over the horizon, painting the sky purple and blue. Soap softly hummed a tune beside him, something the lieutenant couldn’t recognize, even if he’d tried. For a brief moment, it didn’t feel like they were walking towards any danger; instead, they were taking a leisurely stroll amongst the greenery.
“So, you grew up here?” Ghost questions, looking out at the vast landscape.
“Nae, not around these parts. I grew up closer to Glasgow. Still, my Nan had a little cottage a few hours from here; the area looks similar.” The sergeant’s face grew melancholy, recalling a childhood that Ghost would never understand. “Used to run around outside with my sister all the time. Nan would get on us for tracking dirt in the house, but I don’t think she truly minded.”
Ghost hummed, listening as Soap recounted his childhood with his grandmother. It sounded like the ideal life: a loving family, playing outside, nights by the campfire listening to the country's folklore. Still, Ghost knew some things didn’t walk about, dark things that lingered in the shadows of his eyes. He never spoke of his parents or the last few years leading up to his enlistment. He never pried the man for answers, knowing it would be hypocritical.
“Nan used to come out with us sometimes, telling us all the names of the flowers. She could go on for hours about the different plants and trees and tell you their uses… wish I could remember it all now…” Soap trailed off, his expression darkening slightly as he gazed at a small yellow flower on the ground. It looked fragile and delicate.
“What flower is that?” Ghost questioned, leaving an opening to pull Soap from his cloudy thoughts.
The sergeant blinked for a few seconds before glancing at the lieutenant. “Oh, it’s um… bog asphodel, I think? It grows in acidic and wet areas like this.”
Ghost hummed gently, “Does it have any uses?”
“Oh, nae, just looks pretty. There was an old belief that it could treat wounds and some skin conditions, but alas.” They continued walking deeper into the moor, a calm silence between them. Ghost continued to survey the area, observing all the plant life around them.
“What’s with all this purple stuff?”
“That would be ‘heather,’ one of Scotland’s most famous flowers. It symbolizes good luck and is seen as a ‘protective plant.’ Maybe it’ll help keep us safe on this mission, huh?” Soap smiled brightly at the lieutenant, a soft glimmer in his eyes.
“A protective plant, huh? Perhaps we should take some with us.”
“Wouldn’t wanna destroy the natural beauty, sir.”
Ghost hummed gently in affirmative, scanning the area once more before pausing. “I thought you said heather was the purple plant? What’s this white one, then?” Soap froze in his tracks and quickly turned to see what he was talking about. Within moments, Soap’s eyes lit up in delight, and he rushed over to the patch of small white flowers.
“Aye, this is heather! It’s just a very rare color for it to appear in.” He smiled, crouching down to run his fingers along the flowers gently. Despite the heavy gear and weapons, he looked softer, gazing excitedly at the flora. “There’s an old tale that this type of heather can only grow in ‘pure’ soil, where no blood has been spilled. It’s a long-held belief that’s been passed down for centuries; that’s why some brides will use the flower in their bouquets.”
Ghost crouched down gently beside him, surveying the delicate flowers. They’d momentarily forgotten they were still on a mission, instead taking a moment to rest and observe the calming surroundings.
“Being back here… makes me a bit homesick,” Soap mumbled, still fiddling with the heather tenderly. “Wish I got the chance to visit more.”
“It’s quite lovely if you can get past the weather.”
Soap gave a soft chuckle, turning to the lieutenant with a raised brow. “This coming from the manc? Who’s entire city is the definition of dreary?” Ghost gently shrugged, softly nudging the sergeant. Eventually, the moment was broken by the soft crackling of their comms, pulling them from the peaceful atmosphere.
“Watcher-1 to 0-7, what’s your status?”
Both men pulled themselves back to their feet, continuing their trek across the moor. “Making progress, should be at the base by nightfall.” Laswell sent the affirm and cut the contact, returning the men to the silence of Scotland. Ghost noticed as Soap kept glancing back at the heather as they left it behind.