Chapter Text
Simon knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that something had changed the night that annoying Scot with the ridiculous and out of regulation haircut joined the 141. It was obvious enough that even Price had commented on it; with his stupid had and cigar hanging out of his mouth when Ghost had barged into his office late one night complaining about something the Scot had done. Funnily enough, Ghost hadn’t even realised exactly what had changed until the blunt words of his captain.
“Fuckin’ hell Riley, even the recruits think somethin’ or other is going on between you. The only people who don’t know are you dumb fucks.” Price’s hands rubbed his face, pressing hard into his eyes for a few moments exhausted by two of his best soldiers acting like kids with a schoolyard crush.
Simon was glad for his mask, knowing that without it his captain, the man he looked up to more than his own father, would see his guilt and admittance all over his face. The problem with wearing the mask constantly, was the fact that he no longer knew how to mask his facial expressions. With the mask, he was confident enough that no one knew him enough to know his tells. To know how much his bright red flush showed on his pale face.
He cleared his throat harshly, the sound snapping the still silence that had settled, “Even if that is the case Price, nothing is ever gonna happen. I ain’t being one of those officers who thinks my rank is gonna do everything.” He wouldn’t do that to Johnny, he deserved someone kind and trusting, and not with pages upon pages of issues that would get any ‘normal’ soldier discharged. Ghost wasn’t given that luxury, there was no retirement with a couple kids or pets running around. He would work until he died, too valuable the higher ups said. Too useful. Simon knew he was just a tool in the end. A rabid dog with mission success rate too high to put down. He’d work until he outlived his usefulness.
The captain shook his head with a sigh, he knew this would be how it went but he had hoped it would be different. “Just don’t shut him out Simon. That lad thinks the sun shines outta your arse,”
‘I wanna be like you when I grow up Lt’ even then Ghost had retaliated, wanting Johnny to be better than him. No one deserves to be like this.
He left the office without a word.
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When he got back to his room, a mess tray filled with upappatising slop in his hand, he was surprise to see the very man he had hoped not to see leaning against the bare wall. The moment the Scotsman realised he was there, a bright smile spread across his face.
“Hey Lt, been wating fooking ages for ya, ya spooky bastard.” If it were anyone else, Ghost would’ve had them out in the rain mopping the floors before they could even finish their sentence. Since it was Johnny, he could let that one slide. Just this once.
“Whaddaya want Mactavish,” his voice harsh in the quiet hallway. Hoping the mask and eyeblack were concealing the affection colouring his face and tone. By the sparkle in Johns eyes, he failed.
“Thought you’d want somthin’ a wee bit better than the mess shite” he said whilst holding up a small yellow bag that crinkled with every movement he made. Only a select few people knew about Ghost’s outrageous sweet tooth. Many found out through no fault of Ghost’s and several who knew were dead. “Sherbet lemons. They’re ya favourite right?” the only tell of the Scot being nervous was the slight furrow of his brow, wrinkling the middle of his forehead. Simon wanted to reach out and smooth it with his thumb. Ghost refused to move.
Face flushed he nodded. Endeared by the fact Johnny had remembered. Simon himself had almost forgotten the sleepless night of rambling they had shared, not long after Soaps official instatement into the 141.
Reaching out, John carefully placed the packet into Simons empty hand. Acting more cautiously than Ghost had ever seen him before, even when deactiviating a live bomb surrounded by gunfire. Grunting his thanks, Ghost moved to push past the sergeant to get into his room, when Soap pushed off the wall he was leaning against with a right.
“Well I best get off now Lt. Recruits wont scare emselves.” As he walked off down the hallway. Simon couldn’t help but linger on his form as it slowly swaggered out of view.
He looked down at the packet of sweets in his hand and pushed his door open with one last glance at where the Scot had just stood. A smile pulling at the scars at the corners of his mouth.