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Ghost wakes before Soap does, finding the man still curled up against his side peacefully. Even still asleep he can tell Soap looks better, the rest doing him a world of good. He’s unsure if Soap will wake up still regressed, but is content either way. He’s just happy to do what he can for his partner.
A quick glance out the window reveals that it had started snowing again and Ghost was thankful it was still light outside. He enjoyed the first few rounds of snowfall, the sheer silence it brought to the world. It was probably the only time he actually enjoyed silence, watching snow fall from the skies on the roof of their barracks as it piled up below him. He’d have to bring Soap up with him this year.
At the thought of his partner, Ghost felt Soap shifting around at his side, looking down to find him blinking his sleepy blue eyes. Ghost smiled, watching as Soap smiled back at him. A couple quiet moments passed before he saw Soap’s expression change, an odd mix between content and guarded. If he had to guess, Soap was feeling a little more in control of himself than he had been when he fell asleep, but the fact that he hadn’t moved away from Ghost in any way was a good sign.
“You’re still here.” Soap’s voice was quiet, hesitant. It hurt Ghost to hear, to guess what kind of thoughts were in the man’s head, but he was there to make it better, to reassure him.
“Of course I am.” He said, as if it were obvious, and to Ghost it was. He knew Soap would be overthinking, maybe even close to panicking. Soap’s hand had started working on his shirt hem again, calloused fingertips brushing against the skin of his stomach.
“We need to talk about this, Johnny. You’re not in trouble, just wanna talk.” Soap nodded in response, clearly tense but resting his head back down against Ghost’s chest.
“Can we stay like this?”
“Of course, get comfortable and we can talk.” A little shifting was done, and Soap’s blanket pulled back up over them from where it had drifted down. When Soap had stopped messing with the pillows and blankets, admittedly a lot more comfortable now, Ghost decided he would start the conversation with a question and let Soap lead from there.
“As honestly as possible, how are you feeling right now?” Remembering how Soap had taken quite a bit of time to respond earlier in the day, he made sure to speak clearly and give him ample time to think and respond without pressuring for a response. Even if he wasn’t regressed still, which Ghost wasn’t too sure about, he knew panic attacks were exhausting both physically and mentally.
“Scared.” Soap mumbled. “For a couple reasons, I think. Didn’t think you’d come find me first thing in the morning. Thought maybe I’d have some time to work it out and move on. Never experienced anything like this before, though. And scared that whatever happened this morning won’t… won’t continue. That you’ll leave, or judge me, or think less of me. And scared that it feels good, but dunno what it is.”
As much as Ghost appreciated that Soap had known he wasn’t going to be feeling well, the fact that Soap hadn’t experienced this before meant that he wasn’t taking care of himself nearly well enough when these crash episodes had happened in the past. Soap was strong, intelligent, compassionate, talented, and independent. That combination was what made him an absolutely incredible soldier, but it sometimes also meant that Soap wasn’t the best at taking care of himself. He couldn’t help but focus on his job, his work, and that led to him putting his own needs on the backburner.
Not that Ghost had ever thought Soap was regressing, in fact he had only ever heard of it in passing and certainly not in the trauma response context he had just read about. It did make sense with the pattern of Soap’s unavoidable crash after long periods of deployments and missions without a break. It happened every single time, he’d get irritable and frustrated and then disappear for a day, reappearing afterwards like nothing had happened. Except Ghost could tell he was exhausted after what would happen, and he now realized it was because he kept fighting his brain’s attempt to cope with stress and trauma.
“I don’t think less of you, nor do I have any intention of leaving you.” Soap’s hand tensed on the hem of his shirt. “Can I be honest with you about something as well?”
“Mhm. Please.”
“I love taking care of you. For as much as I thrive out in the field with a blade in my hand, there’s nothing I love more than the chance to take care of you, comfort you, to provide whatever I can for you. To preserve your life and your happiness, a stark contrast to how much I take it away from others.”
Soap lifted his head up, eyes wide in surprise as he looked at Ghost.
“It was incredibly uncomfortable for me, at first. Realizing that what made me happiest was to spoil you, to do everything I could so you would be happy and safe. But I leaned into it, started to help you with things like getting your gear on or off, weapons check in, anything you needed, I was there.”
It wasn’t a habit that went unnoticed, even by others. Gaz would tease them for being so close, calling Ghost Soap’s shadow. He saw the way Price stared at them from a distance, at the intimacy in the way they put each other’s gear on. The way they checked each other over for injuries after a mission, or how Ghost always gave Soap the various melons out of the fruit he got, even though it was his favorite. Ghost had been very happy when Soap started to sneak his fork in to steal the melon pieces without asking.
“So. To take care of you, when you need to feel safe and secure, it makes me so happy. This could be a one time thing, or a frequent thing, or whenever your brain needs a rest, and I will be here by your side ready to help you in whatever way you need.”
When Ghost looked back over to Soap, he was a little startled to find Soap crying again. His hand had fisted tight into his shirt, nails pressed into his palm so hard he could break skin, as his lip trembled. There was a moment where Ghost was certain he’d fucked up somehow until Soap let out the smallest sob and tucked himself into Ghost impossibly closer.
Ghost rubbed circles in his back, remembering how it had soothed him earlier, and whispered soft praises to him. It didn’t take long for Soap to calm down this time, though, and Ghost was relieved to see that he wasn’t nearly as distressed as before.
“What’s got you upset?” Soap shook his head, so not upset.
“It… it feels so good to let you take over for me, to not have to make decisions, and it’s terrifying. But I- I don’t want it to stop.” Ghost smiled and hushed him, pulling him up to kiss the top of his head.
“So then lean into it, love. Your mind is trying to help you cope with stress, it’s more than okay to go with it.” Soap hummed questioningly, Ghost forgetting momentarily that although Soap was comfortable with Ghost like this, he still probably had no idea what was happening.
“Ah, I should explain, yeah?” Soap nodded, settling up on his side more so he could look at Ghost while he talked. Of course, this meant adjusting the blankets again so Ghost waited patiently.
“I think what you experienced, or are experiencing, is called age regression. The world probably feels really big and scary and tasks might seem really hard, or maybe you just feel more drawn to simpler tasks or activities, maybe to toys or things like coloring or cartoons. It’s basically your brain regressing back to a younger age, trying to get away from something stressful or traumatic.”
Their job certainly was traumatic. They tended to handle it rather well, no one in the 141 or close to them had all their marbles, with more than a couple screws loose, if not all of them. That’s what made them good at their job, but it didn’t mean it didn’t get stressful.
“It can be voluntary, or involuntary, and I think for you it’s involuntary. Would you agree with that?”
“Yeah, I think so. Always happens at the start of leave. Get angry and tired and then it just… breaks. Spend a day crying and hiding. Then I push it down and forget about it.” Knowing Soap had spent countless days alone and crying, too little to handle the world, broke Ghost’s heart.
“Well. No more of that. You’re safe with me.” Finally, finally Soap smiled again, leaning over to kiss Ghost. It was soft and chaste but Ghost could feel how much emotion Soap put into it. How, despite his fear, he trusted Ghost, and hadn’t hesitated to tell him his fears.
That trust had taken years to build, trial and error. There had been more than a few fights that had threatened to destroy what they had between them, and they definitely owed Price for the unbelievable amount of leeway and grace he gave them to get their shit together. (Price would never admit it out loud, but he was more than willing to break any rules for those two, the way they worked as a duo now that they were together was proof of that. It had been an intense risk, one that put all their careers at stake, but they’d somehow come out the otherside better off than when they had gone in.)
“Safe.” Soap breathed, laying his hand on the center of Ghost’s chest. Ghost could see the hazy edge to Soap’s eyes begin to return, subdued in a way that he could now recognize as comfort and contentment.
“Are you still feeling little right now?” There was no judgment in Ghost’s voice, only honest curiosity, so Soap nodded. He’d still felt a bit hazy and off when he’d woken up but the panic of thinking Ghost might leave him was enough to draw him out of his headspace.
Now that Ghost had reassured him that he was staying, assured him he was safe, he could feel that headspace slipping back in. It was much more comfortable now, warm and cozy. This felt less panicked, less tense. The idea of settling into this headspace with Ghost there to keep watch over him was starting to sound rather wonderful.
“Do you want to keep napping or find something to do?” That required a moment of consideration. On one hand, it felt a lot less scary to stay in Ghost’s room and be safe away from people and naps were usually a very good thing (especially when they were naps with Ghost), but on the other he wasn’t tired anymore and he was starting to feel restless.
“Think… somethin’ to do.” Ghost smiled, happy to see that Soap was back to feeling comfortable and little.
“I had an idea before you woke up, do you want to go outside? It’s snowing, and we could go for a walk or even play in the snow.” The way Soap’s eyes lit up was unfairly adorable, his little one leaning up on his elbows, into Ghost’s ribs of course, with an excited gasp.
“Snow!” He whisper-yelled, getting a chuckle out of Ghost. He whipped his head towards the window and pointed to it when he realized it was, in fact, snowing. One of Soap’s favorite things to do with Ghost was go for walks. Ghost loved to listen to Soap talk, and Soap was grateful for the chance to ramble without feeling like he was bothering someone.
“Yeah, it’s snowing!” Ghost couldn’t help but join in on the excitement.
“If we bundle up nice and warm, we can go outside.” Soap nodded rapidly, thrilled at the idea. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually gotten to go out and play in the snow, if he had ever even been allowed to do that. He wanted to make a snowman, not a big one, just a small friend. He’d have to remember to ask Ghost to take a picture of him with it.
Ghost got up first, barely able to hold Soap back from scrambling off the bed. It was nice to see him so energetic and excited, such a big difference from the way he’d found him that morning.
“Okay, okay, let me get my coat and things and then we’ll go get you dressed. I want you to sit on the bed and wait for me, ok?” Soap nodded and dutifully sat down on the bed, kicking his feet out a little as he watched Ghost shuffle around the room.
The start of a sentence caught Ghost off guard, mostly because it had stopped near as soon as it started. He glanced over to Soap, whose face was bright red and jaw dropped. He looked embarrassed, and a little shocked.
“Are you alright, love?” If Soap hadn’t still been kicking his legs slightly he would have been worried, but the fidgeting told Ghost things were steady enough for now.
“I’ll let you think for a moment while I gather my things, but I want you to tell me if it’s something important before we leave my room.” Soap’s mouth shut with a click. Ghost took his time gathering his coat, gloves, hat and a scarf. It wasn’t all that cold out but the wind chill could get nasty. Soap seemed to be debating something when Ghost finally approached the bed again.
“Remember what I said earlier, love, you’re safe with me. Anything you need or even want to tell me or ask me is ok.” Soap reached his hands out to pull Ghost in close, his partner wrapping warm arms around his shoulders. Ghost’s warm embrace never ceased to relax him almost instantly. Soap’s face visibly flushed again as he prepared to say what he’d wanted to say.
“I… I almost called you… uh.” Ghost leaned back, using his hands to guide Soap’s gaze to his own.
“You’re safe. I love you, and you’re safe.” Tears welled in Soap’s eyes, and Ghost returned his hands to Soap’s shoulders to squeeze them in reassurance.
“Dunno why but… first instinct was to call you… dada.” Soap shoved his face into Ghost’s shirt, afraid of his reaction, but Ghost just ran a loving hand through his hair, easing his face back out from hiding.
“Do you want to?” It’s Soap’s turn to be caught off guard. He isn’t quite sure of his answer to that question so he shrugs halfheartedly. The word almost making its way out of his mouth had startled him, unsure of where it had come from. Soap threads a couple fingers through Ghost’s belt loops to pull him in more.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Johnny.” Soap pouts at this, not sure if he can properly verbalize his barely coherent thoughts. He knows his own history, the miserable at best childhood he had, how much he wished he could join conversations about stories of what they were like as kids. He barely remembers most of it, and what he does usually comes to him in nightmares or flashbacks.
“Dunno why I wanted to call you that. Surprised me.” Ghost shifted so he could sit on the bed next to Soap, making sure they were still as close as possible.
“It’s ok if you want to. You can try it out, if it’s not comfortable I certainly won’t force you. I’ll admit it makes me happy to know I make you feel comfortable enough that your subconscious sees me as safe.” And that was true, wasn’t it? Soap isn’t quite sure why his brain chose that term first, he’s having a hard time even saying it in his own mind, but he does feel safe, he feels cared for and protected. Ghost must know he doesn’t actually see him as a father, he’s his boyfriend obviously, but his mind had supplied the term all on its own. .
“I’ll… think about it.” Ghost gives him a warm smile and a kiss to the forehead before standing back up, taking his hand.
“Well, time to go get your stuff to go outside.” The reminder of getting to go out into the snow slips Soap right back into his comfortable headspace, latching onto Ghost’s hand happily as he’s led to his own bunk.
“Do me a favor and grab your coat and put it on the bed, please? I’m going to grab your gloves, hat and a scarf.” Soap shuffled to the closet, trying to figure out which coat would be best. He turned to see what kind of coat Ghost had grabbed, one of his thicker ones, and tried to find something similar. He ended up deciding on his white and gray one, even though it was generally only worn on missions. Soap brought the coat over to Ghost, holding it out for his approval.
“Good choice, love.” The words of praise pulled a smile on his lips, bouncing on his feet lightly as Ghost finished setting everything down on the bed. He was pleased to see that Ghost had gotten his matching 141 set, it was his favorite hat because he’d convinced Price to let them get beanies. A picture of him, Price, Gaz and Ghost in their beanies was framed on his dresser and he pointed at it eagerly, seeing Ghost smile.
“Hat!” He exclaimed, tapping the mentioned hat on the bed but not grabbing it. Ghost could tell he wanted to, though, so he picked it up and slipped it onto Soap’s head. Soap beamed, that blinding sunshine smile he had only for Ghost.
“Hat!” Ghost echoed, getting the coat Soap had picked and helping him into it, followed by the gloves and scarf. With Soap properly bundled up, now pacing in a circle muttering ‘snow, snow, snow-’, he got his own gear on. He stopped Soap’s eager pacing with a gentle hand in his path, getting the boy’s attention.
“Ready for snow?” Soap jumped, surprising a laugh out of Ghost.
“Snow!” He shouted, grabbing Ghost’s hand and pulling him out of the door. Soap was following the most direct route to get outside, only tempered by Ghost’s firm insistence that they walk at a normal pace lest someone stops them in suspicion. No one would, of course, they were quite the sight at the moment, what with the sergeant eagerly gripping Ghost’s hand and Ghost letting himself get dragged out of the barracks. He wouldn’t change it for the world.
The moment they got out the doors, Soap stopped in his tracks. Ghost almost ran into him, slowing his momentum by wrapping Johnny into his arms and lifting him rather than bowling him over. Soap giggled, wriggling in his grasp as he lifted his arms into the sky. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Soap so outwardly excited, the genuine laughter and smiles only beating out the sheer awe Soap held for explosions. He was intent on catching the snowflakes, holding them in his gloves and staring at them.
“Diff’rent shapes!” Soap shoved his hand full of snowflakes at Ghost, urging him to look. He did, admiring the distinct shapes in his hand, joined slowly by new ones that were floating down. When he looked back up, Soap was staring slack jawed at the sky. They’d gone on countless missions in the snow, but standing here with his partner made him think this was one of the first times Soap was able to just enjoy the snow without fearing for his safety or worrying about work. He frowned at the thought.
“Ready for a walk, little love?” He could see a blush dust Soap’s cheeks but he nodded all the same.
“Walk.” Soap agreed, waiting for Ghost to take the lead. It was almost odd to have Soap so compliant, though his usual energy was certainly still there.
Ghost made note of the way Soap’s voice was getting a little softer, his rapidly shortening sentences and increasing need to stay practically attached to Ghost’s side. Not that Ghost was complaining.
Hand in hand, they started off on their usual path, a trail frequented by the rookies for training or those wanting to get in some good cardio, but was pleasantly empty that day because of the snow and their leave. It passed through the large patch of forest their base was nestled against and there were quite a few scenic stops along the way.
Ghost was thankful that despite Soap being uncharacteristically quiet, it wasn’t hard to tell what kind of emotions he was feeling. His mouth was open in wonder, eyes wide as they took in the thick layer of snow perfectly piled onto tree branches. Every so often, when Soap saw something particularly exciting or pretty, he’d flap his hands around without letting go of Ghost’s, then point to what he’d seen. A couple times he’d even dragged Ghost off the path to go investigate an area that wasn’t as covered in snow.
It had taken a few of these detours to figure out what Soap had been looking for when he started shifting his weight between his feet, then crouched down and started tracing a path above the snow with his finger. Underneath Soap’s hand were tiny tracks, likely belonging to a rabbit.
“Bunny.” Soap whispered, as if the little creature were still nearby. Ghost had seen more than a couple sketches of the wildlife in Soap’s journals. He favored the smaller animals, like rabbits or squirrels.
Ghost followed Soap’s lead when he stood and walked back to the path, once again making their way through the trail. He had a certain spot in mind, tucked a short ways away from the main trail. It was still part of the path, but because it dead ended at a small lake very few people ever used it. It was the perfect place for them to get time to themselves, where no one would bother them.
Even better, though, was the lack of trees surrounding the lake, giving them plenty of space to play in the snow and walk around freely. It wasn’t long before they arrived at their hidden spot, and while Ghost had been certain Soap would immediately want to do something, he just tucked himself behind Ghost, hiding.
“What’s wrong, love?” Soap shook his head and buried it into Ghost’s coat. He’d been very excited to go for a walk, and Ghost had honestly thought he’d keep taking in the scenery. He shifted Soap around so he was in front of him now, holding his cheeks so he could see Soap’s face.
“Si play…?” The request was so quiet Ghost almost didn’t hear it but it made his heart sing. He held Soap’s hand close and led him to a nice little clearing with plenty of fresh, undisturbed snow.
“Of course, what do you want to play?” Soap crouched down into the snow and started patting and rolling some of it around into what Ghost assumed was a ball.
“Snowballs?” Soap shook his head.
“Snow man?” Bingo. Soap shot back up onto his feet and held both of Ghost’s hands between his own.
“Please?” There was no way Ghost would be able to say no to Soap. He knelt down with him and watched what Soap was doing, following his lead. They rolled up the first snowball, about as high as his forearm was long. Soap started a second snowball and passed it to Ghost, motioning him to roll it around. The boy then started working on a third, finishing it just as Ghost finished his. They stacked the snowballs together and their cold, little friend was starting to come to fruition.
“What should we use for arms and eyes?” Ghost questioned, watching Soap look around the clearing. He grabbed Ghost’s hand and stood, leading him over to a bush that still had some leaves left on it. He snapped off two branches and handed them to Ghost, then searched the ground for a couple rocks. Thankfully the lake washed quite a large amount of rocks up during the rainy season, so it was easy to find two larger ones for eyes and a couple smaller ones for some buttons.
Soap toddled back to the little snowman, Ghost in hand, and knelt back down next to his friend. He placed the eyes, then the buttons, and then motioned for Ghost to put the arms on.
“Do you want to put the arms on?” Soap shook his head, gently tapping Ghost’s thigh to let him know he could do it. Ghost obliged, giving a lot of thought to where he wanted the arms positioned. He placed one pointing a little downwards, like it was resting at the snowman's side, and the other at an angle upwards.
“He’s waving to us, want to give our friend a name?” A soft hum of consideration was Soap’s response as he leaned against Ghost’s side.
“Bonnie?”
“I think that’s a perfect name. Just like you, my bonnie lil lad.” Soap sputtered a bit and hid his face in his hands, but the way he leaned into Ghost as his hair was ruffled betrayed his happiness at the comment. They stood up and admired their new friend for a moment. The little snowman was tucked away from the edge of the lake, safe from the more frequently traveled path, but would still be visible to the few passerby’s that came to the lake.
“It’s getting dark, love, ready to say goodbye to Bonnie and get back to base?” Ghost watched Soap wave goodbye to their small friend, returning to his side as they began the short trek back to base. It would be a bit early for dinner, but Ghost wanted to get some food into Soap before taking him back to his quarters to get to sleep early. The mess would be busy with everyone on odd schedules or leaving for home for a short time, but being with the 141 came with a few special privileges like a private kitchen and rec room.
“Would you like hot chocolate and dinner when we get back? I was thinking about making something in the kitchen.” Blue eyes looked up at him pleadingly, Soap tugging on his sleeve.
“What Si make?” He asked, bouncing on his feet a bit as he walked. Ghost thought about what he could make that wouldn't require too many ingredients but still be tasty. Probably some kind of soup.
“Either chicken noodle soup or tomato soup, which sounds better?” With the way Soap’s eyes lit up at the mention of chicken noodle soup Ghost was fairly certain he knew the answer.
“Noodle!” Soap exclaimed, though he became very serious very quickly. “Still get hot chocolate?”
Ghost chuckled, giving Soap’s head a soft pat.
“Of course, love. We’ll have our hot chocolate after the soup, though, save the tastiest thing for last.” Soap seemed to agree with that, tugging Ghost along as the base came back into view.
There were significantly less cars in the lot than when they had left. Less cars meant less people to run into, and they’d have a nice quiet break for the next couple of days. As expected, the journey to the kitchen was uninterrupted and Soap rushed a couple steps ahead of Ghost.
As soon as he reached the doorway, though, he stopped for a moment, turned, and beelined right back to Ghost. Hands immediately fisted into his jacket as tears welled up in Soap’s eyes. Ghost had absolutely no idea what could have happened in the five seconds he was in the doorway.
“Johnny, what happened?” Ghost didn’t get any words in response, just an aggressive shake of Soap’s head as he tucked himself even closer, his knuckles white with how tight he was holding onto Ghost’s jacket.
“Words, love, I can’t help if I don’t know what happened.” There was no urgency behind Ghost’s words, but he couldn't help the concern. Soap was frozen in place, eyes wide.
“Not empty…” He murmured, squeezing his eyes shut. That would make sense. Soap had told him earlier that it was scary to let go and be in this headspace, it was so new to him, so it was only logical that encountering someone else he knows while in that headspace would be scary, too.
“Who’s in there, love?” Soap looked up at Ghost with the saddest eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. Ghost gently wiped them away with his thumbs.
“Gaz.” Ghost hummed for a moment, thinking. If Soap was adamant on only being with Ghost in this headspace, he would be more than willing to take Soap back to his quarters and wait until the coast was clear for dinner. Something told him this wasn’t going to go as badly as Soap that it would, though.
“Love. I think we should still go into the kitchen and make dinner. I can explain to Gaz that you need some quiet time, or I could explain what's happening, or you can. We don’t have to go in, I trust your instincts, but I think it might be worth it.” He was pleased to see Soap giving the question genuine thought, though the anxiety was visible in his eyes and the way his brow furrowed. Slowly, Soap lifted his eyes again, blue meeting deep whiskey.
“You trust Gaz?” He asked, voice whisper-quiet. Ghost’s answer was immediate.
“Absolutely.” This seemed to reassure Soap. Another couple moments of thought later and he nodded, hiding behind Ghost as he pushed the larger man towards the kitchen.
“Trust Gaz. Si explain, please?” Ghost hummed his agreement and let Soap trail behind him, never letting go of his hand. He squeezed Soap’s, feeling the boy squeeze back in affirmation. He trusted Ghost, and if Ghost trusted Gaz with this he could trust Gaz, too.
The thought of his best friend not understanding or finding him disgusting or appalling was utterly terrifying to Soap. Gaz had been by his side for so long, always pushing him to do his best and supporting him. Soap realized, with a jolt of fear, that they’d entered the kitchen when he could hear two voices talking. He settled up against Ghost’s back and peeked his head around his shoulder, glancing hesitantly around the room.
Gaz was sitting at the couch by the tv, saying something to Ghost. He locked eyes with his friend for a moment, ducking behind Ghost again. His partner shifted, encouraging Soap to at least stay in view a little bit. Ghost had been okay with doing the talking, he could humor Ghost with being a part of the talk happening, considering he was probably the topic at hand. The majority of his fear settled into a thrum of anxiety as he tuned into the conversation happening, simultaneously realizing that Ghost was slowly working him out of his jacket and had already gotten his gloves, hat, and scarf off of him and was placing their things on the hooks by the door.
“-were just out for a walk and decided that it was a perfect night for chicken noodle soup. Figured we’d avoid anyone in the mess.” Soap shifted his gaze between Ghost and Gaz, realizing he probably hadn’t missed much while he’d been spaced out since Gaz still seemed to be in a good mood. He wasn’t sure why his mind was so dead set on his best friend abandoning him over this, but the anxiety was there.
“You good, mate?” And there it was. Soap knew Gaz would notice immediately something was off, and he braced himself for the worst. He tucked close to Ghost, squeezing his hand. Ghost got his attention with a squeeze into return, the look he had asking if it was okay to explain. It wouldn't do any good to prolong the inevitable, so Soap nodded his assent.
“Mind if we join you on the couch for a minute, Garrick?” Gaz shook his head and moved to one side, lowering the volume on the tv, making the assumption that a talk was about to happen. Soap watched the two carefully, doing his best to appear confident as he followed behind Ghost. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch, Ghost taking the spot in the middle.
They were all quiet for a moment before Ghost took a deep breath in and sighed. He hadn’t been prepared to explain age regression to someone when he barely understood it himself, but if it was to help Soap he’d do it. Hopefully he had the right words.
“You know Soap has a little history of crashing at the start of leave, yeah?” Gaz nodded, and Soap filed that bit of information away for analysis later. “Turns out he’s been, unintentionally, fighting an involuntary stress reaction he’s been having. Because he was fighting it, he’d get stressed and then crash. This time, though, I caught him hiding it.”
The words held no malice, no accusation, but Soap still felt bad. He hadn’t realized what was happening, he was just so used to dealing with the emotional crash on his own that he always hid away, never actually thinking anything of it,
“After a little bit of a revelation this morning, we realized he’s very likely experiencing something called age regression. Do you know what that is?” Gaz shook his head. Soap wanted to bury himself in the couch, instead deciding that curling up and hiding next to Ghost was as good as he was going to get at the moment.
“Essentially, his mind regresses to a younger age to help him cope with stress or trauma. Sometimes it’s voluntary, sometimes involuntary. For Soap, we think it’s involuntary.” A gentle hand on Soap’s leg got his attention and he dared peek out from his hiding place in the couch crease next to Ghost. Said man was looking down at him, and when he realized he had Soap’s attention he nodded towards Gaz.
Gaz was looking at the two with a soft smile, and Soap was helpless to the tears that welled up again. Gaz looked panicked for a moment before Ghost hushed him, pulling Soap into his side.
“He’s been regressed for most of the day, and when he saw you in here he got very worried you would be upset or disgusted with him.” Soap watched the frown that played across Gaz’s face for a moment, still slightly unsure of how Gaz was feeling since he hadn’t said anything.
“Tav, you’re safe with us. If anyone has anything shitty to say, they can take it up with us.” The tears spilled over but Soap held it together as best he could, relief making him dizzy as he clung to Ghost.
“Told you he could be trusted.” The words were for Soap only, whispered close to his ear. Soap nodded and relaxed into the couch more. So much worry was exhausting.
“Do you want the kitchen to yourselves? Sounds like you’ve had a rough day, bud, I’m happy to give you space if you need it.” Soap suddenly felt silly for worrying Gaz would be disgusted with him, he’d never once judged or looked down on him the entire time they’d been friends. Even when Soap was fighting to beat his records, Gaz encouraged him wholeheartedly.
“That’s up to you, love, what do you think?” Soap flushed at the two of them using pet names, but he couldn't say it didn’t make him feel loved.
“We cook, Gaz stay to eat?” He was happy to see Gaz smile at his answer. He wanted Gaz to stay, he was comfortable being around Gaz, and he wanted to do something special for the two of them. He knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to cook by himself, but he could definitely help Ghost make the soup.
“I would be honored to join you for dinner, mind if I keep the tv on?” Soap shook his head, he and Ghost would be busy cooking and he didn’t mind the background noise.
They stood and left Gaz on the couch to watch his movie, Soap following behind Ghost as the man listed off ingredients they'd need. Soap did his best to search through the cabinets and gather what ingredients he could remember Ghost saying. He placed them on the counter and shifted from side to side until Ghost returned with the items he needed from the fridge. After a check to see what they had, Soap’s hair was ruffled with a quiet ‘good lad.’
Soap paused, watching Ghost work. The anxiety of finding Gaz in the kitchen had pulled him out of his headspace a little and left him in a weird limbo. He was admittedly thrilled that Gaz hadn't even batted an eye at Ghost’s explanation of the situation, but part of him was mortified that Gaz even knew about this in the first place. But when Gaz had sat and listened to Ghost, he hadn't ignored Soap, looking between the two equally and speaking directly to Soap when he asked if they wanted the kitchen to themselves. Gaz still respected him. And if he was being honest with himself, hearing Gaz call him ‘bud’ made his heart warm and happy in a way he can’t ever remember feeling.
The sound of a knife on a cutting board caught his attention, bringing him back to the present. Ghost was working on the vegetables, and Soap stepped up next to him to watch closer. He was quick with the kitchen knife, cutting some carrots into perfectly sized rounds. The man paused his cutting and looked to Soap, smiling, and gestured to a box with a cap on it.
“Love, can you pour the stock into the pot for me?” That Soap could do, dutifully taking the cap off and pouring it all in. He went to turn on the stove when a hand darted out and grasped firmly on his wrist.
“Ah, ah. Stoves are dangerous, love, how about you gather the vegetables I cut so we can get them cooked.” He wanted to protest, he was a big boy, big boys could use stoves! As if sensing the incoming pout, Ghost stepped over to him and placed a kiss to the top of his head. There was a bowl in his hands and Soap took it reluctantly, however his annoyance at being denied the stove was quickly forgotten as he sorted the vegetables into sections inside the bowl.
With his little rainbow of food he presented the bowl to Ghost, earning him another kiss. He bounced on his feet, bringing his hands together in a silent clap. Ghost poured the veggies into the simmering pot of stock, making sure to keep his boy a safe distance from the flame before guiding him back to the counter.
“Very good job, love. Once I have the chicken in, you can pour in the noodles.” Soap trilled happily at the praise, trailing behind Ghost. The chicken was dumped into the pot carefully, Soap watching how he did it. When Ghost motioned for Soap to pour some noodles in, he tried his best to it just like Ghost had.
“Perfect.” Ghost praised. He watched the way Soap clapped silently again, curious. He reached out and gently held Soap’s hands in his, clapping them together so they made a sound.
“You did a good job, love, no need to be quiet about that.” He guided Soap’s hands in a clap again, then let go and clapped his own hands together. It wasn’t loud, just enough to make a solid sound. Soap looked up at Ghost, and for a moment Ghost was certain his boy was about to cry again, but he just slowly replicated the clap. A soft, gentle sound, but a sound nonetheless.
“There ye go. Now we wait, want to go join Gaz on the couch while I clean up?” Soap shook his head, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to go sit with Gaz, but leaving Ghost’s side was not something he wanted to do. Ghost seemed to understand, though, letting Soap linger at his side without a word while he picked up the mess from cooking. He set a timer before bringing Soap back over to the couch. Gaz moved to the side to create space for the two of them, giving Soap’s leg a gentle pat when he settled into the middle between him and Ghost.
Soap nestled into Ghost’s side, relaxing at the regained proximity. It’d been a long day, all the emotions and anxiety he’d experienced were taking its toll. The movie that was playing on the TV was an afterthought, instead Soap was occupied with the hem of Ghost’s shirt again. He liked running his fingers over the stitching, the raised thread on the soft fabric a pleasant feeling. Soothing. He knew they had a while to go before dinner so when his eyes started to slip closed, lulled into sleepiness by the warmth and comfort of his partner right beside him, he didn’t fight it.
“Wake up, sleepy boy.” A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled Soap out of his nap, pleased to find that he was now laying on top of Ghost’s chest. His favorite place to fall asleep.
“Timer went off, it’s time for dinner.” The promise of food was enough to get Soap moving again, though he waited for Ghost to stand before getting up himself. He held Ghost’s hand and followed him to the kitchen. Gaz had taken the soup off the stove and poured some into bowls for each of them. Soap noted, with delight, that his bowl had extra noodles and vegetables in it.
The soup was absolutely delicious, warm and full of flavor. Whatever seasonings Ghost had used worked well together, bringing out the flavors of the vegetables while keeping the chicken flavor at bay. And of course, the noodles were a good addition. Gaz hadn’t said anything, but with the noises of delight he was making it seemed the general consensus was that Ghost’s chicken noodle soup was a hit. He reached out and gently tugged his partner’s sleeve to get his attention. Ghost looked over to him with his spoon still in his mouth and Soap smiled, tapping the table in front of his bowl.
“Like it?” Soap nodded enthusiastically, wiggling in his seat a bit when Ghost smiled in response. There was always a sense of pride Soap felt whenever he was the reason Ghost smiled, whether or not he was trying to make Ghost smile. To see such a beautiful and open expression on his face never failed to make warmth bloom in his chest. The affection must have been obvious on his face, though, because Ghost reached over and squeezed his hand.
“Eat, love.” Whoops, he’d gotten distracted staring at Ghost. Soap tucked back into his soup, doing his best not to eat too fast. The three were quiet while they ate, attention divided between the food and the movie on tv. Soap still had no idea what was going on in the movie but he didn’t care too much, there were explosions and fast cars and that was really all he cared about anyways.
When everyone was finished, Gaz shooed them off into the other side of the kitchen to make hot chocolate. ‘I’ll clean up the table, can you make me some hot chocolate for when I’m done?’ Soap was just excited for a warm drink before bed. Usually they’d make it with milk, but seeing as they had none in the fridge at the moment, water based would have to do. It would still be warm and tasty, and he’d get to enjoy it with Ghost, so that was all that mattered.
Soap gathered their mugs and put them on the counter, pouring in the hot chocolate mix and a couple marshmallows in each cup. He was waiting patiently for the kettle to whistle at him, humming quietly when Ghost came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Soap leaned back into the wall that was Ghost, letting his eyes slip closed.
“How about,” Ghost started, catching Soap’s attention. “We take our hot chocolate to my room, that way once we’re done we can get right to sleep.” Soap hummed his agreement. The combination of strong emotions, warm soup and the relief of knowing his partner and best friend both support him had Soap positively exhausted. As much as he wanted to stay in the kitchen, the idea of snuggling into bed with Ghost was much more tempting.
The kettle began to whistle and Ghost took it off the heat, placing it on a hot pad. He gave Soap simple instructions, where to pick it up and how much to pour. Easy to understand yet not condescending in the slightest. He poured the water in each mug, making sure it was as even as possible, looking to Ghost for his approval when he was done.
Ghost nodded and helped him carry Gaz’s mug over to him, earning him a gentle hair ruffle from his friend. They said their good nights to Gaz, slowly making their way to Ghost’s quarters through empty halls. Soap paused at one of the windows in a hallway, watching the snow fall, backlit by the soft yellow lights illuminating the parking lot. He felt Ghost’s hand at the small of his back gently urge him onwards when he yawned. Ghost had watched his boy grow sleepier, even falling asleep while waiting for dinner, which was very unlike Soap. He could tell that while Soap was much quieter in this headspace, that energy was still there, so he wanted to get him to sleep before he'd get over-tired and upset.
“We can watch the snow in my room, love.” Soap had to be urged on a couple more times, always distracted by the pretty sight out the windows. They finally made it, though, and with all the pauses they made at windows they were almost done with the hot chocolate. Suspiciously well timed, if you asked Soap, but for once he couldn't really complain about an early bedtime. They sat on the edge of Ghost’s bed for a couple minutes, leaning against each other, as they finished the drinks. Ghost took their mugs and placed them on the desk to be brought back to the kitchen the next day.
When he turned around, Soap’s eyes were on him, half closed and sleepy but focused. He walked over to the boy, holding his face between his hands and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“My precious, sleepy boy. Let’s get you ready for bed.” Soap just smiled sleepily, letting his face rest against the soft cushion of Ghost’s stomach. He was given a couple moments to just rest before being guided up and to the bathroom. Ghost prepared his toothbrush for him but let him brush his own teeth, taking a brush to his hair in the meantime to prevent the growing locks from tangling in their sleep. Getting dressed did not go as smoothly this time, Ghost taking over when Soap wobbled on tired legs, almost toppling over. The quiet little ‘oops’ made him chuckle, though, and Soap giggled in response.
Finally, after a bit of work, they were getting into bed. The lamp next to his bed was on and the shades open to the view of the snow. Ghost had thought Soap would insist on watching the snow for a while but was pleasantly surprised to find him lay down and curl up almost instantly, shuffling his way closer to Ghost’s furnace of a body by heat alone. His eyes were closed now, and he realized Soap was probably a lot more tired than he thought.
It had to have been a long day for the boy, starting the day with a panic attack and having a couple very intense and likely stressful conversations. It made sense that Soap would be tired, and Ghost enjoyed having him snuggled up against his side, running his fingers through his mohawk in a soothing pattern.
“You were so brave today, my love.” Soap looked up at his partner in surprise, exhaustion making his emotions show much clearer on his face.
“I’m so proud of you. I can’t imagine how hard it was to have the conversations you did today, with me and Gaz, and being in an unfamiliar headspace. I know being cared for is difficult for you, but it makes me so happy that you trust me enough to be vulnerable around me.” He didn’t quite have the words he wanted, hoped Soap didn’t take it as him saying he was being weak when that was the exact opposite of what he wanted to say, but Soap seemed to get the message.
“Si is safe, ‘f’course I trust Si.” Ghost would never admit out loud just how hard those words hit him. For the longest time he’d thought he would never be capable of love, of caring or trusting, being trusted, ever again. Then one John MacTavish came barreling into his life and changed all of that. He would never have it any other way, and to hear Soap say that he was safe, that trusting him was simple, it made his heart clench with emotion.
A yawn pulled Ghost out of his thoughts and Soap had nuzzled closer to him, pulling the blankets up around his neck. He looked truly comfortable, content and happy to just be there. Ghost smiled to himself, leaning down ever so slightly to press one last kiss to the top of Soap’s head.
“Goodnight, Johnny. Love you so much.” He settled himself down into the blankets, head resting right next to Soap’s. As he slipped into sleep, he swore he heard the softest ‘love you too.’ whispered right by his ear in the sleepiest voice, his smile audible in the words.