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Summary
Soap did not close the gap; he never did, and neither did Ghost. He wondered if Ghost felt it as much as he did. Ghost’s hands were still resting against his thighs, and Soap found himself wondering what would happen if he reached out and held one.
Ghost would probably cut his hand off, Soap reasoned, but there was still that stupid flicker of hope. Soap had nurtured that flicker for years now, never quite letting it die but never feeding it much either. He was not in denial about his feelings towards his Lieutenant, but he certainly was not planning to act on them any time soon.
There was too much risk of losing what little connection he had with the mysterious man, and Soap was not willing to take that risk. So, he stayed content in the grey area, in the almosts and the maybes. It was all he would ever have, and he had come to accept that.
Still, if he just so happened to drift off and his shoulder lightly grazed Ghost’s, who was to say that was on purpose?
OR
Soap becomes the target of a wealthy crime family when he kills their leader. He deals with this while also coming to terms with his sister's death, his Catholic upbringing, and his feelings for Ghost.