Chapter Text
Heavy laid the report he just wrote before him. Price knew this would happen some day. He had just
hoped that it would be in a very far future. Maybe when he had long retired so he wouldn’t have to
deal with the aftermatch. Heavy and nearly screaming where the words in front of him. Screaming at
him why he had let that happen. Only three words that made his heart and stomach turn.
MacTavish, J. „Soap“. MIA.
It had been three months since the mission. The mission that went so horribly wrong. Ghost wondered what he should have done differently to prevent this horrific outcome.
Was there an enemy he had missed? One that got to Johnnys back because he didn’t watch his six properly?
Was the intel wrong? Did they miss something? Was the place rigged?
He didn’t know and it haunted him. It didn’t matter if he was awake or asleep, if he even could force himself to close his eyes long enough to sleep.
He saw Johnny going down before his inner eye. So real as if it happened right in front of him. Again. And again. And again.
They found his dogtags, parts of his bloody jeans and a show. But no body. He wouldn’t allow himself to believe Johnny was dead as long as he didn’t find a body. Price seemed to be thinking likewise as he pronounced Johnny MIA in his report instead of KIA.
But what was the difference? Johnny wasn’t here. He could even be dead and it would change nothing.
Ghost wore Soaps dog tags along with his own around his neck. He promised to get them back to him. One way or another. Even if he prayed to every deity that it wasn’t the latter.
In training Ghost lacked concentration. But who would be mad at him for that? They all lost.. no.
They all missed a colleague. A friend. A partner. Soap was the bright sunshine of 141 and without him
the dark reality of their work hit different.
Gaz watched Ghost in the gym. He struggled with a punching bag. A few swings missing their target.
Some lacking strength. But he wouldn’t blame him for this miserable show. He knew Ghost, out of all of 141, was hurt the most. Their friendship had grown very deep. Some recruits even joking they were like a married couple. It didn’t even seem to care neither of them which led some to to assume they were in a relationship. Who would blame the poor bastards that tapped right into Ghosts and Soaps trap. They both loved the assumptions of the rookies and to make them fluster with their theatre.
Gaz wanted to do something. He wanted to help Ghost but he didn’t knew how. Just talk with him?
Maybe but about what? Definitley not about the obvious horse that’s in the room. Maybe the weather? No that’s too casual. Without any meaning. He tried to think of something Soap would say.
But would that help? Wouldn’t Ghost hate him for trying to replace Soap? He would never dare to do so but he would implie it.
„Can hear you thinkin‘, Gaz. Spit it out or get out of ‘ere“ Ghosts sharp, growling voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Shit.
„I was just.. uhm.. I wondered if you would like to spar, L.T.“ It slipped of his tongue so easy. He knew only Soap could pull that of and now he had said it. He watched cautious for Ghosts reaction. Hedidn’t want to act like Soap. God he would never dare. He just didn’t think.
„Yeah, why not“ Ghost finally said. Gaz let out a silent sight of relief. When he would be lucky Ghost wouldn’t let him feel his anger in the ring.
They both got ready and hopped into the little boxing ring they improvised months ago. Gaz got to one corner and Ghost put his stuff on the opposite of him.
Price slowly approached Gaz. His voice was low and calm.
„You sure you want to fight him, son?“ He was always so concerned for Gaz‘ health. Or maybe this time he was concerned for Ghost because of his state.
„No worries, Captain“ Gaz said in a soothing tone. „It‘ just a spar. No one will get hurt.“
Well. He couldn’t have been more wrong about this. He stood his ground against Ghost for a solid two minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Price was too curios so he stopped the time. Now roughly fifteen minutes after their fight Price accompanied Gaz to the nursing station. He had a broken nose, a sprained wrist and a few bruises all over his body which he will definitely feel for the next three weeks.
Even though Ghost seemingly lacked attention when fighting the punching bag, he was more thanaware of his actions and surroundings in the ring. The first two punches Gaz could easily dodge. Twenty seconds.
After that he started lacking attention. He thought it would be easy because Ghost wasn’t there with all his heart. But he was so wrong.
Maybe Ghost really was angry because of his unintentional imitation of Soap. Or it was just the chance to finally propperly get off some steam.
The bigger man easily grabed Gaz wrist when he had tried to punch him. It was squeezed hardly and bend over far too wide back. Fourty seconds.
He then easily dragged Gaz near him and got his leg up to ram his knee into his stomach. Good for Gaz that he hadn’t eaten that much this day. One minute.
When Ghosts foot got down to the ground again he let go of Gaz who would stumble a few steps back. He breathed heavily and tried to focus. He wouldn’t just surrender. He would go out with a fight. He tried to kick Ghost which promptly turned into a really bad idea. One minute twenty seconds.
Ghost grabbed his foot so fast Gaz could barely work his mind around what happened. The bigger man quickly pulled and twisted the leg of the younger man so that he would loose halt with his other foot, make a quick turn to his stomach and planked the floor like a piece of wood. One minute fourty seconds.
When Gaz tried to get up Ghost was already there. Pulling him up at his shirt and pushing him into the ropes. Gaz used his smaller body in advantage. He wiggled loose from the grip of Ghost, tiptoed backwards through his arms and landed a punch in his back. Two minutes.
Big mistake. The hit would only turn Ghost angrier. He turned around in one very smooth move and in doing so he hit Gaz‘ nose with his elbow. Two minutes fifteen.
Gaz fell to the ground through the impact. Bleeding but still willing to fight. Until Ghost got down and pinned him with one knee on his chest. Gaz would try to push him off only to surrender just seconds later. Total two minutes and twenty-seven seconds.
Gaz felt embarressement while the nurse took care of his nose. He could also feel Price staring daggers into his back.
„Come again ‘bout no one gettin‘ hurt?“ Gaz didn’t answer.
Ghost earned a few strange looks and many whispers on the way back to his room. He knew he hurt Gaz. Maybe he would apologize later but for now he needed a shower.
He didn’t wait for the water to get warm. He turned the shower on, took his clothes of and got under the stream of ice cold water. It hurt but he needed it.
Ghost knew Gaz didn’t mean it. But the way he called him LT, just like Soap. It triggered something inside him. Something he had hoped would never get back to the surface but he was weak.
He would totally need to apologise.
The tall men walked back and forthed in front of his new recruits. Everyones face still covered with a thick black bag. He could hear them breath hardly against the thick fabric. It was music in his ears.
But he couldn’t enjoy this for too long before they would black out. Unfortunatly he needed them.
Well at least one of them.
He walked slowly to one of the men. The one right in front of him seemed unbothered by the thick fabric. He breathed steady and deep. This one would be it. The one to be his new apprentice. He knew it already.
He kneeled in front of him and looked at the man. He was not very tall but had a well built body. One you could use in very different ways. But that was a thought for later.
The tall man reached with his hand for the bag and pulled it from the other mans head. The other seemed unbothered. His eyes were closed and his breath still steady. Slowly he opened his eyes and the tall man was greeted with a soft grey-blue full of warmth.
The tall man stood up, the kneeling man in front of him following his every movement like a hawk. A smile build up around his lips. Yes. This one would definitely do it.
With one small nod to his men who waited behind his volun-told recruits got their guns to the back of their heads and pulled the trigger.
The one left alive didn’t even flinch. He just looked up at him and kept his gaze looked onto his eyes.
„We will have a lot of fun together“ the tall man said with a heavy russian accent.
„We better will“ the other said with an accent the tall man could not quite put in place.
„What is your name, my friend?“
„They call me Soap.“