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Migraine, migraine, migraine. Nausea waving in and out. Pain that medicine wasn’t working on.
Ghost slipped away from the noise that evening. Away from everything. He ached for the comfort of something familiar. Down the barrack halls, he could’ve gone to his own room.
Instead, he made a sharp turn. Towards Soap’s room. He unlocked the door with the spare key he’d been lent and slipped inside, letting out a blissful sigh in the dark. Eyes already drooping closed, he stumbled towards the bed. Narrowly avoiding crashing into any other furniture around him, he flopped onto the small and uncomfortable mattress. It was the best feeling he’d experienced all day. The mask had to go. He tossed it aside carelessly and subsequently buried his face into the pillow. Inhaling the lingering scent of Soaps shampoo.
Ghost wanted Soap to be there with him terribly. Yet, as always, his stubbornness to deal with it on his own won him over, and the thought of moving alone made his head throb harder. He closed his eyes, and tried to instead imagine that Soap was right next to him…
——
Soap wasn’t expecting much when he made his way back to his room. Maybe getting started on his nightly routine and getting some downtime.
But he stopped and did a double take. His eyes were wide as he realized that there was someone in his bed. And that someone was Ghost.
Not that it was a bad thing. Just…odd. Maybe a bit endearing, with how the large man was curled up on the tiny bed. Arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. Why hadn’t he gone to his own, bigger bed? Soap had a distinct feeling that something was off. He carefully tiptoed into the room. Noting two things.
One, Ghost was dead asleep. Given how he didn’t wake from Soap’s arrival.
Second, his mask was laying on the floor in a heap. Seemingly thrown aside carelessly.
Definitely not typical Ghost behaviour.
Soap picked up the balaclava and set it on the bedside table. Then, he sat himself on the edge of the bed. Studying the form in his bed and sighing softly. He carefully threaded his fingers through those unruly blond curls. Hoping to rouse Ghost from his sleep, without startling him.
A few minutes passed in silence, when Ghost's breathing suddenly hitched. Soap let out a soft sigh as he felt the piercing stare on him through the darkness. “Ghost?” His own voice was impossibly soft as he spoke. There was no response from the man in question, but he could feel the other man’s head pressing up into his hand. Soap was happy to give Ghost the touch he was seeking. “Hey, Simon,” he tried again, “what’s goin’ on?” This time, a low groan filled the room. Followed by the shifting of sheets as Ghost got tangled up in the thin blanket. He threw his arms down in visible frustration, shooting Soap a glare as he failed to keep himself from chuckling at the sight. Soap, of course, didn’t leave Ghost to suffer in his pathetic state. Pulling the sheets down, noting that Ghost was warm and covered in sweat. “You sick?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he felt for a fever. Ghost leaned into Soap’s hand once more. Gaze filled with a vulnerability that only came around so often. “Migraine…” he croaked, grimacing like the very act of speaking caused him pain. Soaps expression went from bemused, to understanding in an instant. “Take anything for it?” Ghost shifted to lay on his side, blinking sluggishly as he nodded his head. His eyes screwing shut once again. “S’not fuckin’ helping any,” he growled frustratedly. Wrapping his arms around himself as the pain hit him in a rising wave. Leaving him groaning, nearly whimpering in agony.
“Aw, hey…” Soap practically cooed as he smoothed his thumb over Ghost's temple. Brushing away the sweat and applying the slightest bit of pressure to try and soothe some of the pain away. “Anything I can do? Need me to get ye anythin’?” Ghost grumbled incoherently in response. His breathing was harsh and heavy in the space between them. He stretched a trembling hand outwards and let his fingers curl around Soap's shirt. Pulling him closer, to convey what he wanted without speaking. Thankfully, Soap caught on quickly, and shifted to lay next to Ghost. He shuffled himself and Ghost around until they were both laying somewhat comfortably in the small bed. It was a tight fit, but nothing either of them were complaining about. Ghost let out a content sigh, while Soap made sure Ghost's head was resting on his arm in a way that wouldn’t make his neck sore later.
Once they were both finally comfortable, Soap pressed a kiss to the crown of Ghost's head. The action earned him a content hum. “Get some sleep,” Soap whispered, “I’ve got you.”
A soft snore rang out not even a moment later. Soap made sure to stifle his laughter this time, as he carefully wiped the drool forming in the corner of Ghost's parted lips.