Chapter Text
Ghost hits the ground with a wet smack that scatters gravel around him, gasping for air and trying to roll over onto his back though he instead just sandwiches his arm behind him and bites back a yell.
Everything tells him to try to get to his feet as fast as possible; be ready for the next hit but he can barely even keep air in his lungs much less get any of his limbs to move.
His heart is still pounding in his chest, everything moving around him but seemingly leaving him behind, his entire body is throbbing from how he fell and he knew he’d have a hundred little pebble sized bruises over his side.
He still feels frantic, clawing for something and already kicking himself for hesitating. Hesitating on something that shouldn't even be a decision to begin with, he should be splattered over the pavement 700 feet down but instead he hears Torres’ hit the ground behind him, unclipping his harness and storming up to him, scattering gravel as he goes.
“[My arm–]” He gasps out but Torres just steps back and boots him in the side. Ghost grunts, the adrenalines not covering nearly enough of the pain and he can feel his rib crunch in a way that makes him shudder.
“[Yeah? What about it?]”
“[It's broke]” he manages to force out but Torres just plants a boot on his shoulder and rolls him onto his front, stepping down on his elbow and making Ghost writhe in the gravel.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He hisses and grinds his heel in, Ghost trying his best to fight back the light headedness.
“I wasn’t I’m sorry–sir– please ”
Torres lets up just to stomp back on his shoulder and Ghost swears he can hear something tear though barely over the pathetic little yelping sound he makes.
“Do you have any idea what would happen if they found your body down there? How fucked we would be?” He spits but Ghost just gags in return, scrambling to yank up his mask with his only functioning hand before he throws up over himself.
He manages to get it over his mouth and turn his head to the side but bile still drips down his chin and on his collar. Torres just glares down at him, putting weight back on his shoulder for a second before finally stepping off of him.
“Get up”
Ghost steels himself for a second before sitting up, the dead weight of his arm hanging limply at his side, it barely feels connected to his body anymore. He clutches at it for a second, his jacket slicked with something he prays isnt blood.
Torres grabs him over his arm and hauls him up, steadying him before turning him around, looking over his arm as best as he could in the darkness. Torres grabs his un-injured wrist and rucks up his sleeve just below his elbow, pushing his bare forearm up towards his face, Ghost starts to recoil but the man grabs his injured arm and he obediently bites down on his own arm.
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to keep his knees from giving out while Torres manhandles his arm, pushing it through the arm hole of his vest and pulling it out the other side till his wrist was hanging limply from the other side of his vest and his arm was sandwiches tightly between his chest and plate carrier.
His visions long since gone black, the fuzz of pain all consuming. Torres shakes him after a second, his voice slowly trickling back in. He doesnt sound pleased and Ghost knows hell waits for him back at the compound, Torres lets him crumple to the ground after a second, turning his back on him and talking into his radio.
Ghost just rolls over, staring up into the light pollution.
The water the showerhead was pitifully spitting at him had long gone cold, wasn't even that warm when Ghost turned it on, he couldn't tell how long he’d sat under the spray but his fingers were pruned beyond recognition and his legs were numb so at least a half hour.
His phone had been buzzing on the counter for at least the last ten minutes, casting little bursts of light over the tile before plunging the room back into darkness.
He hadn't checked it for a few days, hadn't felt like it, hadn't wanted to deal with it all.
He’d really rather rot in his drywall sarcophagus then bother with any of it. He still turns the tap off and drags himself up and out, dripping all over the tile as he searches for a towel. He wraps himself up just for warmth but pauses as his phone lights up, displaying some obnoxious picture of Soap Ghost had no hand in.
Incoming Call
Accept?
He cringes hard but hesitantly picks it up, forcing himself to take a breath like it’ll actually help before picking up. The lines loud, full of an ambient rumble thats unmistakably a humvee.
“ … Simon ?”
Ghost pulls the phone from his face, finger already reaching to hang up but he stops himself, nipping his tongue and bringing it back to his face
“Yeah?”
“‘Yeah’?” Soap huffs from the other end “You disappear for a bloody week–make me think you’re dead–and all I get is ‘yeah’?”
“Sorry?”
Soap goes quiet before sucking in a audible breath
“You awright?”
“I’m fine, just… forgot to charge my phone”
“For six days straight?”
“I’m not used to… all this stuff”
The both of them go quiet
“But you're okay?” Soap asks again though Ghost doesn't exactly know how to put it any different
“I’m fine”
“Eating? Sleeping?”
“Yes. I’m fine”
“I’ll make Owen come wellness check you I swear” Soap threatens
“Don't–I’m okay”
“Alright, just, answer your phone Simon, please, I don’t want to worry about you constantly”
Ghost hums back and they both fall into silence, the ambient rumble of a humvee filling the void.
“Johnny?” He asks
“Yeah?” He chirps back though it gets cut off and spread over a few seconds
“I love you” Ghost says after a beat
The line sits quiet for a few seconds before his phone beeps as the call drops.
Ghost just sets his phone back down on the counter, staring at its screen a second before flipping it over and instead glancing up in the mirror before immediately regretting it.
He takes a second before digging in the bathroom drawer for the razors he knows are there. The few beams of light that are coming through the blinds illuminate it enough and he twists the plastic handle between his fingers, watching the light shine up and down the blades.
He had to make some kind of effort less Kelly see right through him. But maybe it’d be okay if she did, Soap was thousands of miles away and wouldn't be able to swoop back in, he didn't really have anyone to pretend for anymore, just himself. And it didn’t really matter what he thought about it.
MARCH 1st 2010, COAHULIA MEXICO
SUBJECT 002
DR K
Subject enters day three of sleep deprivation, phencyclidine dosage has been increased to 8mg. Subject has been placed in stress position on one leg facing corner of cell. Ear plugs have been utilized and appear to be effective. Subject was left for 8 hours before member of staff removed earplugs and requested subject repeat spoken script once more, afterwards subject was asked to beg member of staff to cane it while being told that it could sleep if it did so. Subject resisted but eventually did beg member of staff to hit it. Subject was given 50 hits with metal tipped cane and during repeatedly begged member of staff to stop, subject was observed saying that it was willing to forfeit its reward of sleep as long as member of staff would stop. Member of staff did not and sprayed subject with cold water afterwards. Subject’s wounds did not need immediate medical attention and was allowed to bleed. Subject was given anti-suffocation blanket and allowed to sleep for 8 hours.
“I didn’t expect to see you today” Kelly remarks, adjusting in her chair
Ghost grunts back, already letting his eyes wander
“Not talkative?” She asks
“Am I ever?” He quips back
“Guess not… Did you have anything you wanted to discuss?”
He shakes his head and she doesn't seemed surprised
“Alright” She mumbles “Well, there obviously a lot to talk about, it just depends on where you want to start"
“I don’t” He replies easily
“Humor me?”
They sit in silence a second that she ultimately breaks again, the little plastic white noise machine by the door diligently whiring
“What about your family?” She asks finally and Ghost narrows his eyes at her, falling back into the quick monosyllabic back and forth
“Dead”
“And before that?”
“Mom, dad, brother”
“Older or younger?”
“Younger”
“Were your parents married?”
“Hmh” He nods
“How would you describe your childhood home?”
Ghost pauses and pops a brow,
“The house?”
She shrugs “Memories stick to a place, its something I like to ask”
He actually does have to stop and think, somehow conjure up images of the building that didn't contain people and instead just brick and peeling wallpaper.
“Cold? We couldn't afford heat… the roof leaked in our room and little mushrooms would grow in the corner of the shower”
“That sounds abysmal” She comments
“I would tell Tommy that there were fairies in the walls”
“Your brother?”
He nods
“Did you justify neglect to him often?”
“We weren't neglected” He answers easily though she just cocks her head
“Mold in a family home is dangerous, not having it removed is neglectful”
“They would have if they could, Mum loved us”
“And your father?”
“He did too, in his own way” Ghost answers reluctantly
“What did his way entail?”
He shrugs “He nicked someone's card protector once, it was a little panda, gave it to Tommy”
“Did he gamble often?”
“Sometimes”
“Was the gift to soften the blow of something?”
Ghost pauses and tries to find his hands more interesting “He bet my bike away”
“How did that make you feel?”
He looks up and narrows his eyes at her but she just refolds her hands “Cliche question I know”
“ …Shitty I guess. It wasn't mine to begin with, I stole it from this bloke at school for Tommy but it was too big for him so I’d take him to school and then skip my last period to go get him”
“Did you get in trouble for it?”
“Stealing or missing class?”
“Both”
“No. My teachers knew not to bother”
“Did Tommy know the bike was stolen?”
“Yeah, he wasn't with me but he saw the, aftermath”
“Aftermath?” Kelly echos
“The kid hit back” Ghost explains, glancing away
She pauses and her brow furrows “So you physically took the bike from him?”
“ …yeah” He affirms after a second “I was tall for my age”
“Did you bully other kids a lot?”
“Bully? No–I mean, he was a prick and his parents just bought him another, he didn't miss it”
“How often would you get in fights?”
“Not often” He defends “Tommy had a stutter when he was younger so I’d have dealt with a lot of the kids that’d pick on him but thats it–its not like I’d look for a fight”
“So you felt obligated to protect him”
“Well–yeah” He answers, giving her a bit of a look “He couldn't do it himself”
She nods a bit “Can you remember a point in your life when Tommy wasn’t your responsibility?”
Ghost just recoils a bit at the question, refolding his hands and digging his nail into the bed of his thumb to make something he could pick at.
Ghost surveys the empty halls, walking and poking his head in and out of office doorways.
He kicked the corpses he came across and watched them rock limply and took tag when he saw them. There wasn't really a reason, the shell of a building was long abandoned, used now just for its basements; basements that were scheduled to be raided, their supply seized and chemists arrested.
Roba knew the second the idea was conceived and had the building empty by the time there was a plan. Ghost was literally waiting for them, lurking in the shadows with a dozen other men to eliminate the hostile takeover and make a point. Roba was planning to string up a few of their bodies; let them rot where the public could see them.
Torres had just waved him off while they waited for exfil and looking for survivors and taking souvenirs seemed like a decent time waster. He boots a corpse in the side for being in the middle of the hallway but it just rolls onto its front, showing off the crater that was the back of its head.
Ghost steps over it, the squishing low pile carpet narrating his every move. Hes mid step when he hears it; the creaking of a door, slowly closing.
He pauses before turning and heading towards the noise, he doesn't bother being quiet and the door latching echoes through the silent building. He steps over the threshold of a room and immediately locks eyes with the closet across the room.
A perfect five fingered, red handprint is plastered onto the veneer next to the blood slicked doorknob.
He glances around the room before stepping up to it, raising his hand to knock but pausing a second, tilting his head closer to the door and holding his breath.
Whoever on the other side is hyperventilating like a rabbit; quick, shallow in and outs, probably framed with pain from an injury.
Ghost decides not to knock and instead just pulls the door open, looming over the soldier inside.
H es wide eyed and pale; unremarkable in every meaning of the word, hes clutching his stomach and already soaked in blood. Ghost doesn't wait for him to beg or plead, just raises his rifle and peppers him and the closet with a couple rounds off his hip before closing the door after himself.
T heres another corpse in the corner and Ghost wanders over to it, kicking it the small of the back and just about flinching when it stifles a groan in reply.
He crouches and grabs it by the vest, rolling it onto its back and away from the wall. He expects it to be half dead and delirious but instead its off hand comes up and lashes out at him, Ghost having to lean back before snatching its wrist, a firm shake knocking the knife from its grasp.
It's still glaring at him, brow furrowed and lip curled. Ghost lets go of its wrist and instead punches it directly in the face, watching its head lull and nose start to trickle blood.
The union jack on its vest catches his eye, it was a little odd, the majority of the bodies weren't Mexican and British was just another layer on the mystery.
They were all young; just crows, maybe sent out on what should've been a simple assignment.
Ghost digs under his shirt for tags and pockets them before turning and leaving.
JULY 21st 2010 COAHULIA MEXICO
SUBJECT 002
DR K
Subject continues to meet expectations and obey all requests, conditioning to NRM is satisfactory though PRM is below expectations. Subject continues to have daily sessions typically consiting of physical torture and trigger association, some sessions subject is again offered chance to end session early by compiling with request. Requests now include sex acts.
“What did you do today?” Soap asks
Ghost goes quiet “What do you think?”
“Well… I’m think you went for a walk to that coffee place I told you about and then went a sat in the park, maybe fed some ducks, then you came home and made dinner before vegging out on the couch” Ghost can hear the little smile in his voice, can practically see the stupid shit eating grin in his mind’s eye though the edges have started to fade.
“That sounds like what you would rather be doing”
“Its so fucking hot here ” Soap groans back “ I swear I have sand in my foreskin ”
“ …You’re circumcised” Ghost replies, waiting a beat
“ Exactly–thats how bloody embedded this sand is–it crossed over into foreskin-heaven just to fuck with me”
Ghost lets himself at least be a little amused by him though there's somewhat of a ruckus on the other side and he can hear Soap cover his phone.
“Who are you talking to?” Comes another voice from the other side of the line, plenty muffled and only a little audible
“No one” Soap replies timidly and they all sit in silence a second
“Okay well–I hope you arent too busy mourning your foreskin and might have time to maybe go do your fucking job sergeant!” The third voice barks back and he can hear Soap scramble upright and blurt an obedient yessir before going quiet again.
“I love you Si–I’ll talk to you tomorrow” He whispers back and Ghost doesn't even get a second to say anything back before he's being hung up on.
He just sets his phone down and turns towards the living room windows, rains still pelting the panes, the street below only being trafficked by cars and cabs.
“His name was Manuel Roba” Ghost mutters, idly flicking through puzzle pieces looking for corners.
“Whos?” Kelly replies, plucking a corner out of the pile to slide towards him.
“He was a drug lord, they called him ‘el gordo’”
“Like the lottery? Or was that coincidental?” She asks, slowly pulling back from the puzzle like she does when she has actual questions. It's Ghost’s cue to pay attention though he just shrugs.
“Did you work with him often or was he more of a name to you?”
“I belonged to him; he gave me my orders”
“Were you more involved then? High ranking?”
“No” He replies before adding “I was dirt”
“Dirt? Why do you say that?”
“I belonged to them, we weren't equals”
“Them? As in the entire cartel or Manuel Roba and another?”
“Roba and my handler”
“What was your handler name?”
“Cano” He spits out, it wasn't completely wrong; he wasn't straight out lying just bending it a bit, distancing himself, running she’d say.
“Describe him”
Ghost pauses, thinking it over for a second “ …he was a cunt”
“Alright--how closely did he ‘handle’ you?”
“We slept in the same room, I ate when he told me to, he kept me alive”
“So a dictatorship, not a partnership”
He nods
“You weren't there willingly” She states out loud, giving him that same knowing look, he just chews at his cheek, the act running out
“I was a POW” He finally grumbles, smashing two pieces together that really didn't fit.
“So you were military?”
Ghost nods again and she seems just the slightest bit pleased.
“Sparks and Washington were part of your team?” She proposes and he just fill in more gaps.
“We were sold out, by our CO, Roba was waiting for us”
“And he wanted you all as his own soldiers?”
“Some MK ultra bullshit” Ghost shrugs
“He attempted to program you?” She asks “Do you think it worked?”
“It did something” He replies dryly
“Alright… did Cano care for you?”
“It was his job; keep me alive”
“But did he do it sufficiently?”
Ghost shrugs “He fed me when I earned it, he’d get me stuff”
“Like?”
“Books, clothes, food”
“Were they needs or wants?” She asks and he glances up at her, thankfully his silence was question enough and she elaborates
“Were the rewards fulfilling baseline needs or were they things that actually improved your quality of life even momentarily?”
“Wants?” He replies “Mostly books”
“Did you enjoy reading?”
Ghost nods back, grabbing for the lid of the puzzle box to look over the image of fluffy kittens and flowers again.
“What was your favorite?”
“Self”
“By Yann Martle?”
He nods back again
“That's quite a book… what made you like it?”
Ghost shrugs
“The escapism? Being able to wake up and be a different person? A different gender?” She asks, practically just speaking into the void, Ghost not doing anything to acknowledge her.
“Did you relate to the narrator because of what you were experiencing?” She tries and Ghost doesn't pause, in fact makes his hands keep moving, he was getting lazy with his tell; too comfortable, all it did was make it harder. Kelly still doesnt follow up, just goes back to silently sorting out edge pieces.
The hotel lobby wasn't super busy, just cavernous and quiet, Ghost avoids the receptionist's eye and just goes straight back to the shiny elevator doors.
Torres had slipped him the room key and went to gorge himself on the bar in the lobby but Ghost didn’t mind. Because when they stayed in hotels it meant he could watch TV , real actual TV .
It meant shitty Spanish soap operas and cartoon reruns and the evening news. It made up for everything he had to do to get there because fancy hotels usually implied fancy, high class, white collar people who he’d need to either kill or keep from being killed.
But after he’d followed them where he needed to follow them or slipped something into their drinks or cut through their lower vertebrae before stashing their bodies he got to stay in luxury.
Clean pristine white sheets and room service that Torres might order, a good shower with fancy little soaps and the fluffy robes with the hotel's name embroidered on it.
The room this time had a little stocked mini fridge with a glass door to show off its contents and he was going to ask Torres if he could have something from it when he got back. He’d done good, he thought he deserved it.
Though not enough apparently because Torres still comes wobbling back into their shared room reeking of alcohol and looking cross faded, with that perverse little tilt to his lips and Ghost just knows he's in for it.
He stares on in silent panic and their eyes meet for a second, Torres steps towards his bed and eyes the sliver of skin where his robe splits.
The room has two beds but he knows they’ll only use the one.
He knows they have neighbors on the other side of the walls so he tries to keep the pathetic begging to a minimum while Torres stains the white sheets with his blood. It dripping silently from where they’re connected while Ghost tries his best to suffocate himself in the overstuffed pillows.
Thankfully It doesn’t take long before Torres finishes and passes out, he’s left to deal with the aftermath of waddling to the shower to try to maybe enjoy it still.
His thighs feel slimy when he scrubs at them, using the slice of nicely scented soap until it's gone and he devolves to just rubbing himself raw with a washcloth. It's ultimately useless because they were here for another two days and he wasn't naive enough to think that it wouldn't happen again.
He leans his shoulder on the tile for a second before slouching down into the tub, sitting up before sliding down until he was laying on his back with his legs folded up. The waters pelting him in the face, some running into his nose and making him cringe.
He sits up a second to press down on the stopper with his heel, the water slowly filling up around him, it eventually reaches his ears and plunges him into a quiet world just made up of a deep ambient rumbling.
He lets his eyes fall closed, folding his hands over his stomach and listening to himself breath. He knows time elapses, can slowly feel the water rising higher and higher until it starts to cover his cheeks but not quite high enough to let him drown yet.
And then all of sudden it's gone, Ghost sits up, sloshing the water around though Torres looks less than pleased, scowling at him while flipping the stopper and letting the slightly pink tinted water start to drain.
“[Quit being so fucking dramatic]”
JANUARY 3rd 2011 COAHUILA MEXICO
SUBJECT 002
DR K
Subject continues to prefer to willingly dissociate during majority of its down time as well as when handler will assault it. Subject is able to follow basic instructions but does occasionally show random episodes of inappropriate behavior or facial expressions that seem to correspond with what it is choosing to show itself while dissociated. Unlikely that subject’s behavior is related to or evidence of pseudobulbar affect or similar TBI.
“Do you struggle with intimacy?” Kelly asks and Ghost just spares her a little glance before looking back down at his puzzle
“No?” He replies
“You don’t think anything that happened affects your relationship with John?”
“I don't know, probably?” He grumbles
“You haven't noticed or felt like you balk at closeness with him?”
“ …I trust him. Enough”
“Enough to be comfortable with him?”
Ghost nods and shuffles in her seat, that god forsaken look that meant she had a question he’d hate spreading over her face.
“How long did you know him before you thought about him romantically or sexually?”
“Three days”
“And what happened after those three days?”
“ …I made him suck me off” He mumbles reluctantly
“Made him?” She echos, raising a brow
Ghost nods, pressing the nodule of a puzzle piece together back together where it had started to fray
“Why do you say that?”
“I held him at gunpoint”
“With the intention of assaulting him?” She asks, her voice really surprisingly calm
“No… I was gonna shoot him”
“Why?”
“I blew his cover, Cano would’ve been pleased if I killed a rat” Ghost explains
“But you didn't?”
“We made a deal"
“So it was transactional?”
He nods
“Did you suggest the deal?”
“Does it matter?” He grumbles, flicking a puzzle piece out of the way “Already happened”
“It matters because you still feel guilty about it” She responds easily, tilting her head down like she does when she's trying to get him to look at her “That's good , guilt means you care, and you do care about him, a lot”
“We aren't gonna be able to talk for a while, the area were heading into is pretty hot right now ” Soap says, just a little timidly
“I’ll survive”
“You sure? I don’t know when were gonna be able to talk next” He almost sounds suprised
“It's fine” Ghost snaps, trying to keep the sharp edge off his voice
“Aye–I know, heard you the first time” Soap huffs back though he just chews at his cheek for a moment
“I went outside yesterday” He blurts finally
“You left the flat? ”
“Took out the trash”
“Jesus christ Simon” Soap chuckles from the other side “You tell Kelly?”
“No… she's gonna be all pleased”
“God forbid someone be pleased with you”
“Might even make dinner tonight…”
“You’re all decent… How are you doing on groceries?”
“Fine. Done more with less” Ghost dismisses
“But you’re eating? I left my card and I could get Owen to go with you–”
“Johnny–I’m okay for at least another few weeks” He interrupts “You don’t have to worry so much”
Soaps silent for a second “I know. I can still ask him to go shopping with you, I think you two would get along ”
Ghost shrugs to himself like Soap could somehow hear, the two of dipping back into silence
“How's Kelly going?”
“Fine” He chirps “She says I’ve made ‘notable progress’”
“That's good, I think. Are you actually talking to her?”
“We talk for ten minutes and then do a puzzle the rest of the time”
“That's not bad, gets you out of the house at least”
“She said we could do it ‘telehealth’, like talk on the phone instead of actually going there”
“Yeah… you didn’t know that? ” He asks hesitantly and Ghost doesn't respond immediately
“Well I apologize for not being up to speed on the fifteen years I missed”
“ Jesus chirst Si–uphill battle ” He chuckles “Look–I gotta go”
“Alright... I love you”
“ I love you too. I’ll call you as soon as I can ”
“Was Cano your only handler?” Kelly asks. It's the first actual question of their sessions and Ghost knows it sours it
“No… why?”
“Just wondering. Kinda my job, unfortunately” She pairs it with a little polite grin “What was his name?”
“Her name was Lillian”
“A woman?”
Ghost nods “She was part of the medical staff that would treat me”
“What happened to her?”
“I killed her” He mutters “Roba made me”
“Why?”
He shrugs “He just told me to”
“How was she different from Cano?”
“She was… nice to me, even when she’d have to hurt me she’d patch me up instead of just leaving” Ghost admits, his hand hovering over the puzzle, scanning for the home of the piece in his hand
“Do you know why they chose a woman to be your handler?”
He just shrugs yet again “Convenient? She already had decorum with me”
“Do you feel like you were more favorable to her because she was a woman?”
“She was the first person there to be… decent towards me”
He digs idly in the half of the puzzle book with the rest of the pieces, searching for a middle piece he presumed was actually MIA.
“I didn’t–” He starts before cutting himself off and thinking his words over more “I didn’t remember my name–couldn't–, it was always just Ghost or perro. But she’d call me Gabriel”
“Hero of god” Kelly defines idly “That's incredibly humanizing for her to have given you a name again”
“She had a kid. At some point. His name was Gabriel” He explains
“Do you think she felt maternal towards you?”
Ghost shrugs
“Did you see her maternally?”
He shrugs again
“Do you feel like you have basis enough to even understand what that would feel like?”
That at least earns her a quick glare before Ghost returns to his puzzle
It’d been nine days since Soap last called but Ghost wasn't worried, he hadn’t worried and he wasn't going to start either.
He still lets himself pace because that at least keeps him from picking at the arm of the couch and he didnt wanna fuck up Soap’s furniture. His phone still sits on the coffee table, screen up and in the middle of his rotation, he tries his best not to look at it too often, in fact makes himself look anywhere but.
It still doesn't keep him from about slipping on the hardwood when it buzzes, he knocks into the couch but still gets to it before it rings twice, accepting the call and not pausing to look at the caller ID.
“Hello?” He blurts
“ Simon Riley ?” Asks a voice that he doesn't know,
“ …Who is this?”
“It's about Soap”
Ghost rips the phone from his ear, already rolling back on foot to chuck his phone down the hall for no better reason than to destroy the evidence; make it easier to pretend none of this happened. It's distant and quiet but he still hears it from the other line.
“He's alive”