Chapter Text
“He is still breathing.” Ghost’s own voice echoed in his ears as if he was hearing someone else talk.
He was paralyzed. Glued to the floor as the pool of blood spread around him, his reflection in the crimson mirror dumbfounded as he watched Johnny’s chest raise and fall as if he was just asleep and not fucking shot right in the head. God.
Everything else was muffled, the distant voices of Gaz and Price completely incomprehensible as they defused the bomb while Ghost listened to the soft sound of air leaving Johnny’s mouth followed by a laboured inhale.
He was still alive.
Ghost needed to get him help stat.
For a second there, as he watched his body fall to the ground, he no longer cared to survive but now… Now it was all worth the fight again.
“Medic!” he yelled, desperately ripping his pouch open to get a gauze and gently press it to the wounds, stabilizing Johnny’s head and neck.
Two holes, one at each side of his head, clean shot through and through. Ghost wanted to cry, despair ripping his heart to shreds, but he couldn’t lose his calm; tears were for the dead, not the ones still fighting to live.
His surroundings became a blur. He had no idea how much time had passed before someone else at-fucking-last crouched by his side, gently checking on Johnny, prying Ghost’s hands away from his head. His gloves were soaked through with blood; he didn’t even notice when he had fallen to his knees, his pants now all wet and dark red, almost black in the dim light.
The medic yelled out orders, calm and commanding as ever but Ghost barely heard him even when he was addressed directly. All he could focus on was Johnny’s chest, still rising and falling, rising and falling in a hypnotizing rhythm. His ears were ringing.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder to lend comfort as they put Johnny on a stretcher but he barely felt its warmth against the icy fear gnawing at his insides. His eyes followed the paramedics as they rushed Johnny out, took him away from him. He wanted to run after them, raised to his feet, unsteady and weak yet determined to push through but that same medic’s hand held him back firmly.
“Do you need help?” his words finally made it through to Ghost and he abruptly shook his head.
“Let me go with him.” he plead.
His eyes finally fell on the medic’s face; he was a notch surprised to only now recognize him to be SpecGru's own Gromsko but just a moment before he couldn’t really find it in himself to care about anything other than Johnny, not even the bomb threatening them all.
Gromsko hesitated only for a split second before he removed the hand from Ghost's shoulder.
“Thank you.” Ghost whispered and took his surroundings in, grounding himself back in reality.
Once steady on his feet, he took off rapidly and heard Price call after him but whatever the Captain had to say now could not be more important than Johnny. Than being there with him, by his side through all of this, just in case…
Ghost had to be there for him so that he’s not surrounded by strangers if he…
He let the thought trail off before it finished. These ifs were ones Ghost didn’t want to think about at all.
He reached the medevac the second one of the paramedics was about to raise the ramp behind himself. Ghost waved at him urgently and sped up to barge inside in long strides. The team didn’t even protest, the one that was putting a needle into Johnny’s vein looked up at him but said nothing.
He was thankful that they let him sit by his side. Thankful for their thoughtfulness as they disposed of the bloodied gloves he peeled off and helped him sanitise before he gently took Johnny’s hand in his, for the very first time in his life touching his skin directly with his own.
He wanted to howl.
***
He would have walked right into the operating room much like he barged into the helo, if he wasn’t stopped by a very short yet stern-looking surgeon asking him if he really wanted to contaminate the inside of his friend’s skull.
Needless to say he didn’t.
Still, he was slowly going insane while the surgery lasted and his perception narrowed to his own hands, awfully bare now and yet his only source of comfort as they still remembered the lingering feeling of Johnny’s skin. He imagined he was still holding his hand, a little clammy but warm with the life he was clinging to with such stubbornness.
He sat on the floor, slumped down against the beige hospital wall, still dirty and bloody but unwilling to move. He ignored every single person who came around to ask if he was okay, if he needed something. One nurse left a bottle of water by his side but he didn’t even turn his blank stare towards it, ignoring it despite his mouth feeling like it had been filled with desert sand.
He didn’t care to take his vest off even though it was digging into his stomach and into his hips as he curled onto himself. Didn’t care to remove any layers despite it being awfully hot in the hospital.
He was frozen in time, in space, nothing mattered until he could find out whether Johnny would be okay.
Gaz came around at some point. He didn’t speak. Ghost didn’t exactly perceive him, he only knew he had arrived because he could smell his cologne and distress. He sat down on the opposite side of the corridor and didn’t dare to touch Ghost or make any remarks out loud.
Still, his concern was appreciated. Quiet company was making it somehow more bearable as the minutes dragged on, longer than ever.
The sharp hospital light and cold floor made for an unwelcoming environment but neither of them moved, perhaps out of the need to suffer physically as if it could somehow help easing Johnny’s pain, split it evenly between them three.
A few hours or a few days later, Ghost really couldn't tell, heavy footsteps resounded in their otherwise deserted part of the corridor as someone approached their camping spot. Ghost almost expected Price to be the one to show up but as he finally moved his head to look at the newcomer, he saw Gromsko instead, the tall medic squatting next to Gaz. Their gazes met briefly.
“Price asked me to check on you.” he said softly, looking between them.
Ghost scoffed and then grimaced, feeling how dry his throat was.
“Coward.” he grumbled.
Gaz and Gromsko exchanged worried looks but Ghost couldn’t pretend he wasn’t mad. It was Price’s fault, if only he hadn’t let Makarov live when they had a chance to solve the problem once and for all… He had known it was a questionable choice then and this turn of events only confirmed it. Price was smart not appearing in person now; Ghost would punch the living daylights out of him if he did. He had lost the faith in his Captain and regardless of the consequences of Johnny’s injury, he would never trust his judgment again.
“Ghost…” Gaz began and then changed his mind, falling silent.
Were there really any words good enough to be said right now in Price’s defense? It all could have been prevented if he had just let Soap shoot the bastard.
Heavy silence fell between the three of them. It felt suffocating. Maybe even more so now that Ghost was actually looking at the other two men. They should have been thankful for the mask covering his face because he knew he was scowling in a hauntingly grotesque display of bitter rage.
“You should at least try to drink some water.” Gromsko snapped back to his usual professional persona first. Neat coping mechanism that, to have a mask which wasn’t physical yet slotted right into place with ease, regardless of the situation; Ghost supposed he was used to dealing with soldiers losing limbs, lives and co-workers they cared about a little too much.
He noticed Gaz had a half-empty bottle by his side, while his own was still untouched. He glanced at it as if it was a completely alien object.
“It won’t do him any good if you collapse in here.” The medic encouraged further, his kindness actually somewhat comforting even in the face of all the horrors of that day.
Still, Ghost hesitated before he finally reached down and grabbed the plastic bottle. He squeezed it too hard and some water spilled when he twisted it open, splashing across the dirty legs of his pants, making the dried blood shine fresh again.
He froze, staring at it, flashbacks to the echoing gunshots and visions of crimson choking him with panic instantly. The hospital corridor disappeared, replaced by the darkness and bloody concrete and Johnny, limp in his arms.
Nonononono, Johnny, no…
He felt moisture spreading across his lap but he didn’t care for it, he had to do something, anything. He wanted to move but he couldn't, frozen, his limbs heavy as if he was stuck in molasses. Panicked, he breathed fast, his head spinning as the memory gripped him tighter, cold sweat running down his spine.
Ghost, Ghost!
They were yelling in the distance but he paid it no mind, all he could see was his bare hands, shaking and bloody as the fear pierced right through his heart.
He had to move, he had to...
Johnny... Johnny, please... Don't you die on me...
He felt a hand on his shoulder and the vision shattered as he finally tore his gaze away from his palms, startled by the physical touch. He saw two faces hovering in front of him, riddled with worry.
“Ghost, it’s okay…” Gaz said, his eyes terrified though he clearly tried not to let it show.
“Just breathe, we are at the hospital now, you are safe, Soap is getting taken care of.” Gromsko spoke softly. “Look around, tell me what you see.”
Ghost blinked slowly, the bright light dispersing the darkness of his memories.
“We are at the hospital.” he said and let out a shaky breath, swaying forward, extremely exhausted suddenly, the physical and mental distress taking their toll. “I’m all wet…” he noted, embarassed to see a dark stain in his lap.
“You spilled the water.” Gaz reassured him and Ghost closed his eyes, letting himself come down from it, grounded by the friendly hands resting on his shoulders.
“Do you perhaps want to get changed?” Gaz asked a moment later.
Ghost shook his head.
“I can’t leave here until I know if he…” his voice trailed off into silence.
Neither of them wanted to say it out loud.
“Consider it, it’s no use catching a cold…” Gromsko’s tone wasn’t pushy, merely encouraging. Ghost didn’t move though and they didn’t inquire further.
They knew what he needed and simply remained by his side, Gromsko slumping against the wall and Gaz embracing his own knees, uncaring that he was sat in the middle of the corridor; it wasn't like anyone else was walking through there to the occupied operating room.
“The surgeon is really good, best of the best.” Gromsko said quietly. “He’ll pull through.”
Whether Johnny would ever regain consciousness or brain function was a different question but they weren’t exactly eager to speculate on that at that moment.
Ghost sighed loudly and closed his eyes again, bracing for another hour of the wait when the door to the theatre slammed open, startling them all.
The surgeon looked tired but a gentle smile adorned their face.
“He’s all patched up, gents. A real trooper, that one, I count that as a miracle but he didn’t crash once.”
Ghost forgot how to breathe for a moment.
“Cheer up, big lad.” The surgeon reached out to Ghost, their hand so casually extended that he didn’t even think twice and let them help him up, even though the ridiculous height difference between them should have had the surgeon stumbling. “It’s great news. Pretty sure nothing too important was nicked but we will see soon enough.”
“Can we see him?” Gaz asked, standing up to join Ghost.
“He is gonna get wheeled off to ICU soon.” the surgeon explained. “You’ll be able to see him there. I suggest getting cleaned up now, the ICU nurses are pretty damn anal about germs.”
“But…” Ghost began and was met with a stern shake of the head.
“No buts, mister scary goth man, I get it, he is your boyfriend or whatever but you better let us take care of him and you better listen to what we say is in his best interest right now.” the surgeon tapped Ghost on the sternum, absolutely unphased by his posture or the haunted look he gave them.
Ghost wanted to protest again, hoping to at least take a peek at Johnny but there was clearly no way around the short doctor who crossed their arms against their chest and gave him a challenging look, blocking the way in.
“No use arguing, Ghost.” Gaz gently took hold of his elbow to guide him out of the hospital wing. Ghost followed him absently, suddenly devoid of all the will to resist. Gromsko and the surgeon watched them quietly as they were leaving.
They walked back to the headquarters in silence, Gaz leading the way as Ghost seemed lost in the thought, up until the very moment they passed by Soap’s room. Ghost stopped in his tracks, while Gaz took a couple more steps forward before he slowed down to look back at him.
“He is alive.” Ghost said quietly and then, lacking any grace whatsoever, he collapsed.