SnailKeeper78
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Summary
“Is — Is Ghost running from me?” Soap asked once the glow of Price’s cigar drowned out the flickering fluorescent lamp lights above them.
Price took a long drag before replying, “probably.”
That stung, but Soap appreciated the honesty as he folded his arms across the rusted metal of the piers fencing. He’d suspected as much — no — he knew as much to be true. Ghost was flighty as a feral cat, and no amount of food left out would bring the man home until he felt safe again. It pained him to recognize that he didn’t feel safe with Soap, not anymore. Maybe he never had in the first place, and that brief relinquishment of control between them was a fluke, if not something conjured up by Soap’s own subconscious to chase after a fleeting hope.
Soap wanted to love Ghost in whatever capacity the other would let him, but he could only get so far when he was stonewalled every step of the way.
. . .
After the rubble clears from their night in the cabin, Soap is left with all the broken pieces that Ghost fled without. With bloodied hands, he learns the value of patience as they fight to define themselves.
[A sequel to Cuckoo in the Dove's Nest. Can be read as a standalone.]
Series
- Part 2 of Brood Parasites
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Summary
And you will no longer
Stand between collapsing walls
Wearing a smile
Like you cannot bear it anymoreor,
they get their happy ending and I won't rip it away from them this time.
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A beat. The line goes completely quiet for a moment. “Repeat that, Serg?”
Soap groans lowly, pained. “Ne’ver got out from.. under ta buildin’. I don't know which side ‘am on.”
Dead silence. He can't even hear them breathing. Soap panics, managing a small, embarrassingly, childishly afraid sounding, “Cap’n? Lt? Gaz—can ye ‘ear me—”
“You’re still in the building that collapsed?”
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“You're alive, Johnny,” Ghost corrects, dryly. But Soap knows better. Can see it in the subtle tremble of his fingers. “Let's keep you tha’ way.”
Or: the absolutely required MW3 fix-it.
Series
- Part 7 of comatose [author's favorites]
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“You got a type?”
The picture of Ghost’s slow blinking is clear in his mind. How he'd maybe reposition himself in the tower, think up a cheeky response, and—
“Why, you want me to describe you?”
Weeell. Maybe. But he’s not tellin' Simon that.
Series
- Part 6 of comatose [author's favorites]