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Spooky Tag
Ah, yes. Halloween. The holiday where people dress up in the choices of slutty, scary, or goofy costumes. Most people enjoy the day for candy and a good party. Graves? Not so much. He’s a stone cold killing machine, a bird in the sky that watches all. Definitely not scared of anything or anyone.. Right?
That’s what he likes to tell himself anyway as he lands at the 141 base that morning, seeing all of the decorations that are not certified by any means but who is he to question it? Graves already knows that all of this is Soap’s doing and it makes him feel a little bit better about it. Graves couldn’t see Soap being the scare type, but more of the spooky lover.
As he goes to get settled in with his shadows, let’s take a look in Soap’s corner.
***********
Soap was more than excited for this day, wanting to decorate in September but got told a hard “No.” from Price. Of course it didn’t stop him from putting things here and there around base that made no one say anything. Though when the day came, he went all out. He even made Ghost, Gaz, and Roach carve pumpkins with him. All of them were absolute shite but he loved them either way.
“Ghost, I need help with the costumes for everyone. Can you grab those bags on the bed for me?” He asks him so sweetly, happy that the Brit was going all out for him. Soap had gotten Costumes for everyone, matching everyone together. He thought it would be sweet to do but more fun than anything and he truly hoped everyone would participate.
“Sure, Johnny..” Ghost grabbed the few bags from Soap’s bed to help him deliver them to each designated room, watching Johnny with fond eyes until he saw purple in the bag meant for him. “Johnny.. What is this..? And why am I going to be purple?”
Soap snorted and waved his hand in dismissal, “I’m not telling you and you need to wait until later.” Ghost gave him an annoyed look but shook his head, trying to focus on his current task.
They go door to door, putting the bags in front of them as they go. Soap just keeps snickering the more they drop off until they get to where Graves and the shadows are bunking. He didn’t get them anything..
“Shit..”
“What is it, Johnny?”
“Graves and his men don’t have anything. I didn’t even think about it. We have three hours left..” He says as he checks his watch, biting his bottom lip. That is until he gets a brilliant idea and snaps his fingers with a laugh. “I fucking got it, Lt. Hold on.”
Soap knocks on one of the doors, hoping a Shadow opens it instead of graves. With luck, one of them opens the door and just looks at him. Ghost is just watching as Soap whispers something into the stranger's ear, seeing them laugh at the secret. Eventually Soap comes back over to Ghost and grabs his hand, leading him away from the area. “What did you do, Soap?”
“I became a comedian, Ghost. That’s what I did.”
***********
Grave’s yawned and stretched in his room, thankfully alone so he could focus on paperwork he finally had time for. He took a glance at the clock, seeing it read at 19:00. “Jesus Christ, I’m ready for bed-”
Right before he could even finish his sentence, multiple Shadows crash into the room, causing Graves to release a high pitched scream. The men scramble to their feet and rush to him, covering his mouth to keep him quiet. His eyes are wide with confusion and betrayal. Just what the fuck is this?
“Sir, I’m gonna need you to come with us.” He hears one of them say as they all pick him up limb by limb, carefully carrying him into the hallway while other soldiers watch in awe, laughing even. It’s highly embarrassing but what else can he do? Graves just chooses to let it happen.
The minute they get into a large briefing room, they gently put him down on the floor and that’s when Graves notices them all wearing suits, sunglasses, and ear coms. Now he thinks they’re just playing a prank on him, which would be normal back home. But they’re not at home are they? Just what would Price think of this? Graves can feel his face getting flushed just thinking about it, raising his voice at all of his men. “Now what in god’s name has gotten into all of you? Do you know how embarrassing this is for me for you all to act like fucking idiots? Show some fucking respect!” His men slightly cringe and grimace. “Uh, sir. We need you to change into this.. Please?” One of the men, Hudson maybe? He can’t remember at this point but he looks at the bag held in front of his face. “The fuck is this?”
“Your uh.. Costume, sir?”
Oh.
Right.
“Fuckin’ hell, alright. Give me a moment.” Graves crumbles as he snatches the bag away from the other, not giving a shit about changing in front of everyone. Though the colors and stars on the outfit catches his eye. They really got him an entire suit as the American flag. He lets out a snort, “Is that what I think it is?”
*********
After an hour or so, Graves is surrounded by all of his shadows walking down the halls in the barracks, taking note of how empty they were. It gave him an uneasy feeling but it could be worse.. it will be worse. He knew just by the text Soap sent him about meeting up just outside of the main base, going as groups for this year's “141 tag.”
As they start to approach the group outside, he stops and takes in the people before him and they do just the same. He can see them all look at him for a hard moment before Soap starts laughing so hard he almost falls over.
“Steamin’ fuckin’ Jesus, Graves. I mean.. Mr. President.” Soap can’t help himself even after Ghost gives him a smack on the back of his head with a mutter of “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” But Graves truly takes the site in front of him as he gets to the group. There’s no way this is real right now.
Ghost looks at Soap as Gaz and Roach now approach, leaning in as he grumbles. “Why couldn’t I be the green teletubby? That one’s my favorite.”
“Because the purple one is tall, you’re tall. Simple as that. And they have names, Twinky Winky!”
“The fuck did you just call me?”
“Are we really arguing about this? Can we just get this started? We’re playing tag right?” Gaz sighs, tugging around on his costume while Roach just gives a double thumbs up. Price just looks unamused beside Farah and Alex.
Speaking of Price, seeing him dressed up as Bob Ross while Nik is dressed up as a canvas. Now that is a sight to see. Graves covers his hands to stifle his laugh, failing to do so which gets him a look. He turns around immediately to hide his face, trying to control himself before turning back around.
Farah and Alex are in.. T-shirts? Farah’s simply says “fuck this shit” while Alex’s comically says, “I’m crippled and I have a gun.” Of course this couple couldn't give two shits about this whole ordeal.
Now that everyone is ready, Soap claps his hands together. “Alright, a few rules here. We can go by small teams since we have a lot of us. Ghost, Roach, Gaz, and I will be a team of course. Farah and Alex. Graves, you’re with cap’n and Nik. The shadows can.. do whatever. I dunno.
The entire base is open to the game. We have 10 minutes to have free time for hiding. If a whole team gets tagged, they’re the losers and owe everyone a round at the pub. Sound good?”
Everyone gives some form of a yes, to which Soap yells “GO!” And the only ones who seem serious about this are Soap and Roach, nearly tripping over each other while Ghost and Gaz track after them.
Meanwhile, Price and Nik grab Graves and guide him towards the office buildings. “There are different hiding spots in the offices. I’d say we split up so they can’t try to get all of us at once. Graves, go down the C hall, Nik will go down B, and I’ll go to A.”
Graves can already see how badly this will go. Especially knowing that Ghost is most likely going to find everyone. “This feels like a very shitty game of hide and seek, not tag. But whatever..”
“Pfft.. Well Mr . President .. I’d say you’re missing out on 141 tag.” And oh did that sound nice on the tongue but nevermind that. Maybe Graves was missing out, but he wasn’t complaining either. But after gawking at Price, even in the silly afro and outfit, Nik gives a small tap on his arm to bring him back to the present. “C’mon now, President. Focus.”
Ah. Right. Hiding.
With a nod, he makes his way to his destination, just picking a random door to carefully go into. The second he opens the door, he finds Farah and Alex quickly pull away from each other. Might as well take the opportunity and awkwardly walk up, tapping on their arms before slowly backing away while making eye contact. At least he wasn't the first one tagged?
“So um.. Bye?” As Farah tries to give a small wave, Graves rushes out of the room and slams the door shut behind him, grimacing at the sound. He just knows Ghost somehow heard it. The motherfucker hears everything. For safety, he slowly looks behind him and sees a distant purple silhouette. “Oh, fuck me.” Graves makes a run for it through the halls and almost runs instantly into Roach, letting a cut off scream as he dodges the bug of a man after he almost gets grabbed. Thankfully Roach’s costume gives him a disadvantage, getting around him to run to Section A.
Once he thought he was clear, he chose the door down the hall and shut it as silent as he could, leaning his back against it while trying to catch his breath. Right as he collects himself, he has to cover his mouth as Price pops up from behind the desk in front of him. “What the bloody hell are you doing in here?”
Uncovering his mouth, Graves stutters as he begins to speak. After almost shitting his pants twenty times already, this is more embarrassing. “Uh.. Ghost and Roach.. T-they almost got me..”
“But you got away?”
“Fuck yeah, I did.”
“Good fuckin lad. Come over here and let’s finish this out.”
And good lord, how could Graves so no to that ? So he walks over to Price without thinking and gets yanked down to squeeze under the desk with the Brit. If Graves thought he was dying earlier, he certainly feels like he’s dying now. To be this close is just an ungodly sin. “Stay quiet. Let him find everyone else first then we can try to get out safely.”
Well, safety didn’t fucking last when both men tensed up and squeezed into each other when they heard footsteps outside of the door. “Och, come out, come out wherever you are and lemme tag ye.” Of course it’s Soap, which only means Ghost is nearby.
“I don’t think they are over here, mate.” Then there is Garrick who has been quiet and less possessed than the rest. Graves can’t think of anything mean to say about the man so he doesn’t even try.
But alas, eventually the door does slowly open and they are still tensed up together, firm grips like they might actually die here. It feels intimate and casual, not giving a fuck about Price’s appearance. Fuck it, we ball right? Right. Now that he’s back to the present, he begins to take a deep inhale before Price covers his mouth with a hand, making Graves shudder under the touch and he can only pray to any God out there that the captain doesn’t feel it. But the more he looks at the captain, the funnier it is and he snorts out a laugh.
Oh no..
The footsteps in the room are almost silent as they approach closer, making Graves squeeze his eyes shut. He knows it’s coming but nothing prepares him for the way he is completely snatched out from under the desk from rough gloved hands, a high pitched scream coming out of his lungs. The grip he had on Price was practically nothing against the force of the man pulling him.
He looks up at the Bob Ross fraud and sees a look of sympathy before the other man closes his eyes like he would for a fallen soldier before him, making this more comical than it should be.
The deep booming voice brings him back to it as he’s basically dangling in Ghost’s grasp, like he was a fish caught straight from the Mississippi. “Got ‘im, Johnny. Who else does that leave?”
“Price n’ Nik, love. But I think I know where one of them is hiding.. Gaz can get Price and I’ll look for Nik a little more. And Roach? Uh.. Go crazy I guess.”
And God fuckin’ forbid, the little bug of a man in the red Teletubby costume goes feral on him like a damn dog. He immediately aims for Graves at full force, making Ghost yank him around like a dog toy.
Heh. Ironic, isn’t it?
In the middle of the shitfest, Gaz looks under the desk to find Price still huddled close to himself like he was invisible. “My, my Cap. You could’ve done better than this mess, yeah?” And boy were Price’s cheeks a nice shade of pink. That’s getting stored away forever in the mind of Phillip Graves. Price simply responds with “Shut up, you muppet..”
You can hear the older man’s bone crack and pop with a grunt as he climbs out from under the desk to stand up, giving a good stretch. “I’m too bloody old for this shit..” Gaz just gives him a snicker to that, giving a few pats on the back before whipping his head to the goofy squad in the room.
Graves, forgotten about once again, is screaming at Ghost and Roach as he continues to be dangled, Ghost taking the opportunity to kinda swing him around a bit. He tries his damndest to get away since Roach is like a chihuahua, “Get your fuckin’ dog, Ghost. What in God’s green fucking earth do y’all feed him?”
“He doesn’t bite..”
“The fuck you mean he doesn’t bite?! The stupid fuck is literally knawing on me like a bone.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, the hallway echoes with a scream from Soap, making everyone whip their heads to the direction. “Ah, shit! I’m coming, Johnny!” Letting Graves flop to the floor for the pesky red Teletubby to finally devour, running to Soap’s rescue.
Meanwhile, Price and Gaz focus on tugging Graves away from Roach, playing a game of tug o’ war. The little shit really is like a dog isn’t he? Finally getting free, Price helps Graves off the floor to head to the hallway, finding Ghost standing in a doorway down the hall. Frozen. Oh no..
They all seemed to forget about how serious Nik is about winning, no matter what it is. Graves almost wanted to laugh at Soap screaming mercy for his life but seeing Ghost like that of all people suggested he shouldn’t. As they inch closer, he notices that Ghost isn’t scared but in awe of the brutal Russian in front of him. Now focusing his eyes into the room to find Soap being held up in the air by his costume.
The large human canvas looks up at Soap, deadpanning, “My team wins and you’ll buy us rounds, yeah?” Who knew this silly man could be more terrifying than someone's arch nemesis.
Yes! Alright? Just lemme down, Nik!”
And just like that, Nik drops Soap on the floor with a loud plop. The Scot then scrambles to his feet, running into Ghost’s arms like a hurt child running to their parent. “Never again. Never fucking again.”
Roach decides to make his appearance known by biting down on Graves’ arm, making him yelp and flinch from the suddenness. Price being his savior as always, grabs Roach and pulls him off, muttering a low growl. “Down boy.. Are you having a sugar high or something?” That makes Roach swat at his captain, rolling his eyes in the process.
But Graves starts to think about the beginning of this whole ordeal, remembering that he tagged Farah and Alex first. “Wait.. Shouldn’t Karim and her lover boy be the ones to pay for the rounds? I got them first..” That alone only produces impressed hums and ohs even though the couple didn’t try to participate.
Nik wasn’t having any of it, shaking his head and points at Soap. “They buy rounds. At least up to three.” But how can one argue with this man, regardless of the costume.
“Three rounds? Bloody ‘ell, mate-” Soap tries to at least express his concern, only to be cut off by Nik.
“While we wear costumes.”
“Oh fuck no.”
Graves has no idea which person said that last bit but he couldn’t stifle the laugh that comes out of his mouth, turning away from the group and it makes him bump into Price. He can feel the captain wrap an arm around his shoulders and give a gentle squeeze. “Alright you eejits. Let’s go find the love birds and get a drink in us.”
And boy fucking did they. Roach had managed to find the other two and drag them along, getting a smack on the head by Farah in the process. They were still wearing their term of ‘costumes’ but either way worked.
Everyone went out with a form of glory, Roach enjoying it the most of course. Who knew a person could make a childhood character seem so scary.. But Graves just shakes his head. He more grateful that the shadows stayed behind to clean up the base a bit, knowing it would be twenty times worse if they were all here. He felt comfortable, in a way. Like he was at home.
Seeing this group of military idiots in ridiculous costumes was worth the trip, even if he almost shit his pants a few times. An hour in, a few of them were already hammered. Gaz and Ghost watched over Roach and Soap, already having to split them apart from some guys dressed up as Jason and Michael Meyers. Braver than Graves, he thinks. But man was that a sight to behold for future stories to come.
His favorite part though?
Price and Nik had joined him at the bar, on both sides. It was comforting, somehow. Knowing that these two barely knew him but wanted to sit with him anyway. Almost like they were protecting him against everyone. What a trio they were.. Bob Ross, a human canvas, and a ‘President.’
He almost chokes on his beer when Price pats him gently on the back as if to say a job well done. “Wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“No, sir. Might be one of the best nights I’ve had in a while. Lord knows I needed it.”
“I’m glad my hooligans could help with that, despite how a few treated you. You’re always welcome here kid. Welcome to the 141.”
Instead of adding any heartfelt words, Nik just raises a glass for a toast and Price follows, hitting his bourbon filled glass against Graves’ tallboy. A night for the history books in his mind, curious of how Christmas goes around in these parts. None of this was expected but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Happy Halloween, Bob.”
“Happy Halloween, Mr. President.”