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darth-mortem · 2 months ago

Text

I brought you my new fanfiction about 09 Ghost and Soap.

Ghost is seriously injured and wants only one thing—to close his eyes and let the darkness engulf him. Captain MacTavish realizes that if he allows this to happen before help arrives, Riley will never wake up.

Injury, angst, hurt/comfort, no one die. 1752 words.

Ghost's entire body was shaking uncontrollably. It wasn't cold here, quite the opposite: the warm summer evening was slowly turning into night; the crowns of ancient trees rustled slightly in the barely perceptible breeze; wood crackled in an old but sturdy metal stove. It was hot in the small hut in the middle of the forest, but the cold was not coming from outside but from inside.

Ghost was injured and had lost a lot of blood. He wanted to close his eyes and just fall asleep, but Soap, his captain, who had returned to rescue him, causing them both to miss the exfil, would not let him. He hugged Ghost, pressed him to his chest, talked to him and asked questions, forced him to pay attention and stay conscious.

“Come on, Riley, what would you choose?” Captain MacTavish asked.

“What...?” Ghost managed to squeeze out, realizing he had missed the first half of what was said.

You can keep reading here or on the Ao3

“Where would you like to go on vacation?” Soap repeated patiently, gently running his hand down Riley’s back. “To the sea, to the mountains, or maybe to a city?”

“I'd like to stay at the base.” Ghost replied in a weak voice and bowed his heavy head to the captain's chest.

“That's not an option.” He said sternly and shook the lieutenant gently so as not to cause him more pain. “After you're patched up, we're going on vacation, and that's final.”

“We?“ Ghost asked, trying to remember if Soap had mentioned this earlier.

“Yes, we.” He nodded. “Why not? Roach is injured too, and Price and I can't do all the work ourselves. We've needed a break for a long time.”

It was true. 141 had been working almost non-stop for the last two months, and perhaps if the soldiers had had even a few days' respite, things would have turned out differently today. They would have been more alert and focused and would have all come out solid. Instead, Roach hesitated and was shot in the leg, and Ghost, covering his retreat, noticed an enemy lurking behind a burning building too late. If the distance had been greater, his bulletproof vest would have saved him, but the shot was almost point-blank. The bullet entered somewhere under his ribs, and in the first few seconds, Riley felt no pain, only a weakness that suddenly fell upon him like a heavy weight, causing his fingers to unclench and drop his rifle. The next shot was supposed to be his last, and it rang out, but for some reason, instead of the lieutenant, an enemy fell, and he himself was picked up by someone's strong hands and dragged away from that cursed place. Of course, it was Soap; he had noticed that Ghost had fallen behind and returned for him, just as Riley himself would have done if they had switched places.

“Then let's go somewhere warm.” Riley said hoarsely, forcing his unresponsive lips and tongue to move. “I'm so cold...”

“I know, Riley, I know.” Soap pulled him closer and gently stroked the back of his head. “Hang in there a little longer, okay? The medevac will be here soon.”

Dragging Ghost to the exfil point, MacTavish didn't yet know how bad it was, although he had a pretty good idea. If the wound had been minor, Riley wouldn't have been hanging on his shoulder like a dead weight, barely able to move his legs, which were buckling from weakness and leaving a trail of blood behind him. Ghost himself couldn't see it, but there had to be a lot of blood. So much that the captain decided not to throw Riley over his shoulder and run to the helicopter but to lay him on the ground and start first aid immediately. In doing so, he probably saved Ghost's life. And then he did it again here, in the hut, when he pulled out the bullet, stopped the bleeding completely, and bandaged the wound so tightly that Riley had trouble breathing.

“Don't sleep!” Soap shouted sharply, shaking the lieutenant's shoulder again, and he groaned weakly and forced himself to lift his heavy eyelids. “You have to stay with me, Riley, do you copy?”

“Why?” Ghost asked, barely audibly.

He knew perfectly well that despite all his many skills and brilliant efficiency, he was the one who could be sacrificed in this team. He didn't wait for orders to go into the most dangerous areas, to cover the retreat of others, or to be the first to check rooms where the enemy might be hiding. He never hesitated to shield his comrades from bullets with his own body. Especially if Captain MacTavish was in danger.

“Why?!” Soap asked indignantly, and the lieutenant felt him tense up. “Are you serious, Riley? After I barely got you here, you ask me why?!”

“I'm sorry...” Ghost whispered and shuddered, as if waiting for a punch.

“No, no.” MacTavish immediately changed his tone. ”It's fine, Riley. Everything's fine, all right? You're just tired, and I shouldn't have yelled at you.”

His hand moved again, stroking Ghost's head and back until he slowly relaxed. It was pitiful how much he needed such simple affection, but he was truly exhausted and couldn't control himself. If anyone else had been there, he would never have allowed them to touch him any more than was necessary to help him, but Soap... Soap was different. With him, Riley always felt safe; he trusted him; he knew that the captain would never hurt him or allow anyone else to do so if he could help it.

“Riley.” MacTavish called again. ”Wake up, Riley. Can you hear me?”

Ghost didn't move or respond. His eyelids fell again, and he didn't have the strength to lift them. It felt so comfortable lying in MacTavish's arms, pressing his ear against his chest, and hearing his heart beating. For some reason, it began to beat faster, but the lieutenant couldn't understand why.

“Simon.” Soup said quietly, involuntarily squeezing him tighter in his arms. ”Please, Simon, don't leave me. I need you, you hear? You're the most precious thing I have.”

The captain's voice sounded as if from afar, and Ghost could barely make out individual words. It seemed like Soap was calling his name and asking him for something. His voice was soft, even tender; he was saying such nice things to Riley, things that would have made his scarred heart beat faster if he could have understood more than just a few words.

““Please, Simon.” Soap repeated, feeling his eyes begin to burn unbearably. ”You've held on so long, you can't leave me now. I still have so much to tell you...”

With a titanic effort of will, Riley forced himself to move, pushing away the sticky darkness that clouded his consciousness. He didn't understand the words directed at him, but he could hear the sadness in MacTavish's voice. And the last thing Ghost wanted in the world was to make the captain sad. He tried to say that he could hear him and to ask Soap to keep talking; it didn't matter what, just talk so that his voice would be an anchor keeping Riley from sinking deeper. He parted his lips, but only a quiet moan escaped his throat.

“Are you still with me, Simon?” Soap bowed his head, looking into his clouded eyes, and even through the half-wiped black combat paint, he could see him turn pale. ”Can you hear me? Do you understand me?”

Ghost thought about his questions for a moment, then nodded weakly. He really did begin to understand MacTavish's words again, as if death, which had already taken him by the hand, had briefly receded. Instead of its icy, bony fingers, Riley's hand was grasped by others, gentle and warm, and he made an effort to squeeze them weakly in response.

“Good.” Soap nodded, understanding the gesture as “yes,” and glanced at his watch. “Help is almost here, and you have to wait for it, because if you die here, in my arms, I...”

MacTavish faltered. It sounded so simple in his head, but how difficult it was to put it into words!

“I don't want to go on if you stay here.” Finally, Soap squeezed out. “Without you, it won't make any sense.”

“Why?” Riley's voice whispered in response, quiet, barely audible, almost unlike the voice of a living person.

“Because...” MacTavish closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. ”Because I love you, you fucking idiot! Isn't that obvious?!”

A faint smile touched Riley's deathly pale lips, and then the sound of helicopter blades could be heard somewhere very close by.

***

Ghost slowly opened his eyes and immediately squinted against the bright white light that blinded him. He smelled the familiar, hateful scent of antiseptics, heard the steady electronic beeping, and realized he was in a hospital. He had survived, though he probably shouldn't have. After waiting a few seconds, maybe minutes, Riley opened first one eye, then the other. The light was still unpleasant, but at least he could now make out something other than it.

Next to his bed, hunched over an uncomfortable hard chair, sat MacTavish. His eyes were closed, but he could hardly have been sleeping in that position. With one hand he rested on his knee, and with the other he clutched Ghost's still cold hand, as if afraid that if he let go, it would be forever. Riley looked at his slumped shoulders, his tousled mohawk, and memories of what had happened began to surface from the medicated fog that enveloped his consciousness.

“You're the most precious thing I have.” MacTavish had said to him there in the hut.

“I don't want to go on if you stay here.”

“I love you.”

Riley tried to move his fingers, and, miraculously, he succeeded. He squeezed Soap's hand, who immediately woke up, raised his head, and looked anxiously at his face, now covered only by a thin medical mask.

“MacTavish.” Ghost croaked, tried to clear his throat, and grimaced, feeling the pain dulled by the anesthetics. “John.”

“Yes, Simon?” The captain replied in a nervous, alarmed voice.

“I love you too.” Said the lieutenant, smiling weakly.

John smiled back at him, then leaned down and gently touched the scar on his nose bridge with his lips. Things would be different now, but that didn't scare Simon at all. Ghost's mask had protected him all these years, but now it was no longer necessary.

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