Chapter Text
Ghost had fucked up. As he paced his small quarters on base, he knew it as an unquestionable fact; he had fucked up. Royally and probably unethically fucked up. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
Maybe if he were a better man, he would be able to. But he wasn’t. And he didn’t.
That he was secretly glad about what had happened didn’t mean that he didn’t now have to find a way to deal with the fallout of his past self’s stupidity. Preferably without getting himself kicked out of the 141, though that was seeming less and less likely. First and foremost, because his lack of forethought in his fuck-up was such that Price should probably question his planning and judgment skills. Second and less importantly, knowing Price, he had probably broken at least half of the military’s HR guidelines, the half the task force hadn’t already broken with their black book operations, and most certainly all of the fraternisation regulations. Though admittedly he’d been breaking most of those for a while before this.
Price might be lenient about the rules for his task force, but surely even he couldn’t overlook this. God, there was going to be some nutjob old corporal whining about how it had been a mistake to let omegas into the military because of him, wasn’t there? There better not be fucking news coverage about this. At least he didn’t have any family left to embarrass if there was.
Fuck, what was he meant to tell Soap?
Ghost sat down and let out a choked, hysterical laugh. This wasn’t how he’d expected things with Soap to break. He couldn’t decide if this was better or worse than all the endings he’d envisioned. He’d known from the start that whatever was between him and Soap could never last. Never be anything more than casual. Which was fine. Ghost had come to terms with it before they’d even hooked up that first time.
Soap had always been very clear about his disinterest in settling down with an omega. He frequently scoffed whenever the topic of mating and pups came up. Most of the time he’d knock his shoulder against Ghost’s and make a comment about how they weren’t gonna trap men like them into that ‘family bullshit’. Ghost always agreed. For the first several years of their acquaintance, he had meant it, rolled his eyes at any suggestion that just because he was an omega he should be tending to some little family. For most of his adult life, he couldn’t envision any sort of future outside the military. It seemed like something that happened to other people.
But then, something had changed. Perhaps it really was some dormant omega instincts finally kicking in, reminding him of his biological clock and all that shit. Or more likely, the pseudo pack of the 141 and their genuine affection towards Simon had made him go soft. Maybe it was a particular blue-eyed alpha he couldn’t seem to stop thinking of, no matter how stringently he refused to acknowledge the depth of his feelings for the man. Whatever the case, more and more lately Simon had found himself thinking of life beyond the military. More specifically, pups. Truthfully though, a truth he had previously refused to admit even if his own head without at least several bourbons in him, it wasn’t just the idea of pups in general that seem to have burrowed itself into his hindbrain; it was the idea of his and Johnny’s pups.
It wasn’t even that he was trying to keep Johnny. Ghost wasn’t selfish or stupid enough for that. He knew the best he could expect in the future was staying in contact with the occasional text every couple of months and maybe on the odd occasion the 141 would meet up to get drinks for old time's sake. He’d made his peace with that. It would be enough. It would have to be. Johnny was a young, strong, perfect alpha. He could easily have any omega he wanted. Ghost was no one’s first choice. He’d never quite had the knack for being a good omega. He’d always been too tall, too cold, too intense. So even if Johnny changed his mind about wanting a mate, he wouldn’t choose Ghost.
So right from the start Ghost had accepted that any time he got with Johnny was a fleeting luxury that could never last. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a desire for their brief affair to leave a permanent mark on his life. Something to mirror the way he knew his cold, dead heart had reengaged itself to fit Johnny’s affection. Tangible proof to remember Johnny by. So he didn’t risk forgetting how happy he’d been for this brief moment in time. Perhaps even something new to bring him joy and purpose after Johnny left. In hindsight, it would have been far simpler to just get another tattoo.
Despite the situation, and not having a clue what he was meant to do now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been happier. No, it wasn’t the type of simple, straightforward pleasure that he had when he was tangled in Johnny’s arms and the rest of the world disappeared. It was something richer, deeper, and far more complicated. He hadn’t stopped smiling to himself ever since he saw those two pink lines. Probably a record for him.
Simon placed a hand against his stomach, still firm with muscle, revealing nothing yet of what lay within. “It’s you and me against the world now, kid.” He was pretty sure the kid hadn’t yet developed anything resembling ears, but it was the thought that counted. Damn, he was going to have to get some books on pregnancy, wasn’t he? “I might not have much of a clue what I’m doing yet. But I’ll figure it out, I promise. Already I’d move fucking mountains for you, and I haven’t even known you existed for a full hour. You and me, kid.”
He had never been trying to make Johnny stay with him. Even by Ghost’s rather low moral standards, that would have been fucked. He didn’t want Johnny to stay out of some sense of duty or obligation. Besides, had seen those plot lines on his mother’s soap operas, and they never ended well. He wasn’t trying to baby trap Soap. That wasn’t why he forgot to take his birth control from time to time. He just had more pressing things to worry about if he’d missed one dose.. or a dozen.
He honestly hadn’t thought anything would come of it. It was nothing but fodder for idle fantasies. It was hard for male omegas to get pregnant, particularly at his age, even when actively trying. Normally there was a need for hormones and fertility treatments. So even with Johnny not bothering to use a condom more often than not these days, Ghost had thought the odds were so low as to be irrelevant.
Ghost knew that he had always had a bit of a knack for beating the odds, but usually that meant a never-ending stream of bad luck. He hadn’t expected this. Maybe he should have, but he hadn’t.
So he had no idea what to do now. Because he’d never really thought beyond vague imaginings of little brown-haired blue eyes pups. Hadn’t thought about the realities of how to actually deal with the situation.
That brought him back to the problem of Johnny. On the one hand, there was no way Simon was going to tell Johnny. The man had too much of a sense of honour and morality for his own good sometimes. Besides, he knew Soap’s mother would have his head if he left a pregnant omega alone and un-cared for. Hell, if Simon tried, he could probably get Mrs Mactavish to guilt Johnny into mating with him. Ghost knew Soap cared about him enough that he would be fine with it. But he wouldn’t be happy, not really. Because it would never be his own choice to stay, and that in turn would slowly destroy Simon as well. Not to mention the effect a home like that would have on their child. Simon had known from a young age that his father resented his existence, even before he’d said it. His kid deserved better. So he wouldn’t tell Johnny it was his. He couldn’t.
Unfortunately, not telling Johnny anything was a fucking stupid, utterly untenable plan.
There was no way around it, unless he vanished into the night and never returned.
Which, after a brief, desperate, fleeting moment of consideration, he knew he’d never do.
He knew that the 141 would be a bit upset if he did that. They might not be an official pack, but years of working together and living in such proximity had made them into something close. Besides, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted Price, Gaz, Laswell, and Johnny to know about his kid. To give them the chance to be a part of this little family he was going to build. If they wanted to, which, despite the self-deprecating voice in his head, he thought they would. Price was going to be insufferable about this, as pack Alpha. Gaz and Johnny, he knew they already had nieces and nephews that they absolutely adored, and he didn’t doubt they’d both love to have one more child to play fun uncle to. It was far too easy to envision them teaching the poor pup bad habits and spoiling them rotten before returning them to Simon at the end of the day. He was going to have to keep an eye on just how much he let them get away with.
It was never really a question of if he’d tell the 141, just what. As he sat on his bed thinking, the hours on the clock ticking away into the late night, he came to a decision. This pup was his and his alone. He would claim goddamn immaculate conception before he named an alpha. If Johnny didn’t want an omega, it certainly wasn’t fair to expect him to co-parent a child. Selfishly, he also didn’t like the idea of having to share his pup for any amount of time. What Johnny didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Simon wanted this pup that was his, and that was all there was to it.
It was more than enough for Simon to know the truth, even if no one else did, that this pup was theirs. A testament to this short but doomed affair. The love he had for Johnny had created this, and he was going to make sure their kid had the best fucking life even with only one parent.
That didn’t make it any easier to decide what to say to Soap. No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t figure that out. So he decided to take the coward’s way out; it was a day of firsts for Simon after all, and avoid telling Soap for now. He would have to tell Price. He wasn’t about to risk his kid’s life by going out on missions. But for now, it would be his little secret to keep.
Ghost stood in front of Price’s desk in a nice, proper parade rest. He deliberately left only a handful of minutes before he had to leave to train the rookies, to have this conversation in. “I need to go on medical leave, effective immediately.”
Price looked up from his paperwork and gave Ghost a once-over. “What did you break? You said you were fine last mission. What did I tell you about lying to medical, ya muppet?”
“I’m not broken,” he grunted out, then paused for a moment. He hadn’t said the words out loud yet, and they felt slightly awkward in his mouth. Like he was too big, too fucked up, for the delicate words to belong to him.
Price seemed to sense his uncertainty and put his pen down. “What’s wrong, Simon?”
“I’m pregnant.” He blurted.
Price’s eyes widened.
Simon continued before he could say anything else. “Haven’t confirmed with medical yet, so I can’t tell you how many weeks exactly. But I’d like immediate removal from active duty.”
“Course-”
“Guess you can finally make me do all that paperwork you hate.” Simon forced a smile. “Not quite sure about after yet. I’d still like to assist the task force, from an advisory position. If you’ll have me.” Ghost knew that his primary appeal was his killing ability. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was good for off the field, but he hoped Price would give him a chance to figure it out. “Now, if that’s all, I best be off to training.”
“Christ, Simon! The recruits can damn well wait a couple of minutes. Sit down.”
Ghost, like the good soldier he was, sat down.
He looked at Simon in silence for a long moment and then finally let out a deep breath. “I can’t say I saw this coming. Blood hell Simon, pregnant?”
Ghost gave a sharp nod in confirmation.
“Of course we’ll keep you as part of the 141. No matter what you chose to do, you’re one of us, Simon.” A calculating gleam lit his eyes. “So whose kid is it then?”
“It’s mine, sir.”
“Yes, I figured that much, you muppet. Who’s the other parent?”
Simon set his shoulders back firmly. “It’s mine. That’s all that matters.”
Price ran a hand over his face. “You can tell, swear you and- whoever it is won’t get into any trouble over it.” He watched Simon for a moment, and when he didn’t react, Price’s face darkened. “Unless of course there is someone who should be getting in trouble over this,” by the end of the sentence Price’s tone was pure murder and Ghost had no doubt that if someone had managed to take advantage of him, they would be very swiftly dealt with.
Ghost couldn’t help but smile. “No, nothing like that, John, but I appreciate your concern.”
Most of the tension bled out of Price’s expression. “Good. So why are you being so cagey about the father?”
“Because it doesn’t matter,” Simon said simply. “He doesn’t want it, I do, so it’s my kid. End of.”
Price reached into his drawer and pulled out a cigar, reached for the lighter, glanced at Simon, and then put it down again. “Alright, long as you’re happy.”
“I am.”
A soft smile lit Price’s face. “Good, I’m glad. Congratulations. Sorry it took me this long to say it. I’m happy for you, Simon. You deserve good things in your life.”
Simon stood up. “Thanks. Best go train those recruits now.”
“Course. Anything you need, let me know.”
“Thanks,” Simon repeated before he slipped out the door.
It was a relief to let the cool, emotionless mask of Ghost slip into place as he led training.
He tried his best to slip out first from the mission brief without being caught, but of course the persistent Scot was right on his tail. Soap had been staring near constantly at Ghost ever since Price informed the team that Ghost would not be joining them for the next mission and then glared at Soap and Gaz when they tried to ask follow-up questions.
“Lt, wait up.” Soap called after him.
“I’m busy,” Ghost kept up his fast pace even though he admittedly had nowhere to go.
“Then I’ll walk with you,” Soap said with his usual unshakable optimism, which Ghost knew was really just a disguise for his pure pigheadedness. “So you're really going to let me and Gaz off all on our own? Hardly seems like a wise plan. Who knows what kinda trouble we might get into.”
“Price will be there.” Ghost started walking in the direction of the barracks in the futile hope that Soap might leave him and go to his own room. He’d go to the gym for a distraction and the buffer of other people, but the morning sickness had hit hard this week and he couldn’t face any more exertion for the day. He really just wanted to be back in his nest.
“Aye, but he’ll be outnumbered without you there. Hardly seems fair on the old man.”
Ghost rolled his eyes. “Sure he’ll be fine.”
“So, why aren’t you joining us? Aren’t switching to another team, are you?” Soap's tone was light, but Ghost sensed a darkness behind the question. Soap might not want Ghost, but clearly he didn’t want anyone else to have him either. Possessive alphas, he thought with a mental roll of his eyes.
“Course not, Johnny. Wouldn’t leave the 141. Got put on medical leave is all.”
Soap stepped in front of Ghost and turned towards him, making him stop. “Medical leave? Why?”
This was the part where Simon would say he was pregnant and refuse any follow-up questions. But it might make things weird between them, and he couldn’t quite face that just yet. So he simply shrugged. “They said I’d been working too much lately, needed a break before I burned myself out or some shit like that.”
Soap looked him over carefully. “That’s awfully compassionate of Medical. Sure there ain’t something wrong, Ghost? Ye’ve been lookin’ right peaky lately.”
“Probably why I got put on leave. But nothing serious is wrong, Johnny, promise.”
Johnny held his gaze for a moment before seeming to come to a conclusion. “Okay. Well, now that we’ve sorted that. How ‘bout you stop trying to avoid me and we go watch a movie or something, rest, doctor’s orders and all that. We can even watch one of those real cheesy ones you like with the horrible special effects.”
“Those effects got more character than that CGI shit nowadays.” Simon grumbled, instantly caving to the Scot’s demands.
After that, Soap seemed to have dropped the issue. He didn’t ask Ghost any more about it other than a couple mission later when they got another brief asking if Ghost was joining them.
“Still not yet,” Ghost said because he still couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth, no matter how much he knew he should.
Soap simply nodded and carried on chatting as they walked together towards briefing.
Despite Soap's outward indifference, Ghost could tell he was still on edge about everything. He kept sneaking glances when he thought Ghost wasn’t watching. Ghost also noticed that if he took his attention off his food for too long, more of it would appear on his plate.
He knew he should tell Soap to stop. That he didn’t need to be fussed over like some sick pup. But his hormones had been a bitch as of late, and it felt so damn soothing to have his alpha caring for him. It didn’t matter that Ghost logically knew that Soap wasn’t his alpha, or that Ghost was more than capable of taking care of himself. He loved it and he couldn’t bring himself to tell Soap to stop.
Which was perhaps part of the reason he continued to avoid telling Soap the truth. An alpha covertly looking out for a pack mate was one thing. An alpha purposefully caring for an omega pregnant with a pup that wasn’t his was a statement. While he knew Soap wasn’t one to be told by anyone, including society, what to do, Ghost still doubted that he’d maintain his easy, thoughtless gestures once he knew.
Still, as much as Simon might want to, he couldn’t keep his secret forever. Despite an even stricter regiment of scent blockers than he normally wore. It was, of course, Gaz that finally figured him out. Perceptive bastard.
The three of them were training in the gym one evening when something must have finally clicked. “Ghost?” Gaz asked, eyes sharp as steel. “What did you say the reason for your medical leave was?”
“I didn’t,” Ghost replied sharply.
Gaz’s expression softened into something overly fond. “Are congratulations in order, then?”
Ghost sighed and put down the annoyingly light weight he’d been lifting. He covertly flicked his eyes over to where Soap was on the treadmill, calculating the odds of him overhearing this. Though if Gaz knew it wasn’t fair to keep it from Soap any longer. “Yeah. Guess so.”
Gaz gave a quick pat to Ghost’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, mate.”
Ghost let out a huff. “Thanks. I’ll miss working in the field with you though.”
Soap, apparently not as engaged in his music as he’d seemed, jumped off the still-running treadmill. “The fuck you two on about?” He started walking toward Ghost, concern in his eyes. “Why are you going to miss being in the field?” There was something frantic in his eyes as he scanned Ghost. “Is it that bad?”
“Soap-” Gaz started
Soap whirled on him. “Why the fuck are you happy he’s got a career-ending injury? Fuck’s wrong with you?”
Gaz sputtered, then did his own whirling, towards Ghost, with an expectant look.
Ghost let his head fall against the wall behind him. How that idiot was the love of his life really was a mystery for the ages. He was looking up at the ceiling when he admitted. “I’m pregnant, Johnny.”
When he had the courage to look at Soap, the man had turned back to look at Ghost, his jaw nearly on the floor and looking like a strong wind might knock him over. “Think ah misheard ye there, Lt, what ya say?”
“You didn’t mishear.” Ghost stood up and walked away. He couldn’t cope with any follow-up questions. He could feel Soap’s eyes on him right up until the gym door closed behind him.
He wasn’t surprised to hear a knock on his door a few hours later. He knew that knock from years of the Scot barging into his life. So he was prepared when he opened the door.
“Ghost,” Johnny greeted him, voice slightly unsteady. He slipped easily into Ghost’s room.
“Johnny.” Years of practice kept his voice flat and emotionless. He leaned against the wall by the door and shoved his hands into his pockets as watched Soap start to pace.
“So, ah…” he ran a hand through his already mussed mohawk. “Were ye serious with what ye said in the gym?” His accent had thickened in the way it always did was he was anxious or stressed.
“Hell of a thing to joke about.”
Soap stopped his pacing to stare wide-eyed at Ghost. “There’s really a baby? In you?”
Ghost nodded. There wasn’t much else to say.
Soap took a step closer, then suddenly stopped. “Is it- I mean-” He took a shaky breath. “Who’s?”
Simon looked at him as if that might allow him to figure out what was going on in that mad brain of Johnny’s. As always, he couldn’t. He could read danger in a stranger like it was written in neon, but his Scot never seemed to stay still long enough for Simon to figure him out. Eventually, he gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it fucking matters, Simon.” Soap started gesticulating in that way that even years in the army couldn’t train out of him when he got riled up. “That pup’s got a father who should be caring for them.”
Ghost crossed his arms and glared. “It’s got one. Me.” Soap opened his mouth to reply, but Ghost cut him off. “Unless you wanna tell me I’m not capable. That single omegas are helpless, pitiful things. Didn’t think you were that old-fashioned, Sergeant.” The words came out bitter and venom-laced.
Johnny closed his eyes and took a breath. “Of course you’re damn capable, Simon. You could do fucking anything ye set yer mind tae.” He opened his eyes, and his intense blue gaze seemed to pierce through all of Simon’s defences. “It’s just- It’s not right, ye ken. Ye should’nae have tae-”
A growl escaped Simon before he could stop it. “I don’t have to do anything, Sergeant. I want this child. It’s mine. I don’t give two fucks about any alpha, especially one that doesn’t want me. Neither me or this child needs them.” He took a step forward and glared down at his sergeant with an anger he hadn’t felt since their early days of knowing each other. “This is not some burden I have to suffer under. It’s my kid. Understand? I'd better not hear you say shit like that again.”
“I didn’t mean. It’s just-” Soap wilted under the full intensity of Ghost’s glare. “I’m sorry.”
Ghost took a step back, but the vice around his heart didn’t let up. “Get out,” the words didn’t come out with as much anger as he meant. He just sounded tired.
“I’m sorry.” Soap repeated, stepping back towards the door. He turned to open it but passed before he turned the handle. “You’re gonna make a great dad, Si. Congratulations.” The last word came out as barely a breath before he vanished out the door.
Simon sank heavily onto his bed, hand resting protectively over his growing bump. “I love you,” he whispered reassuringly. He’d read that babies couldn’t hear sounds from the outside world until later in the pregnancy, but he already knew his kid was special, so he said it just in case.
He let the weight of emotion wash over him. The anger had quickly subsided into a dull ache of grief, like pressing on an odd, mottled bruise. He’d known that Johnny would see a child as nothing but an inconvenience to be dealt with. He hadn’t expected anything different from the conversation. Still, there was a part of him that ached at the confirmation.
At least it cemented his decision not to tell Johnny. This rejection had been enough. He certainly didn’t need more to get the hint. Besides, wanting any more from Johnny would be selfish.
He started rubbing absently at his bump and felt a soothing sense of certainty wash over him. They were going to be okay. They didn’t need any alpha. Johnny was always going to leave anyway. Best to rip the band-aid off. This kid would always be part Johnny. No one else would ever know the truth. But Simon did, and that was enough.