Chapter Text
John “Soap” MacTavish had been loaned out by Price to another task force that needed his expertise in demolition, which is how he found himself in the middle of Brooklyn; New York Intel had been given to the task force that there were civilian hostages; they needed Soap’s expertise to blow down the damn door because the rest of the task force's methods of getting into the building had failed.
Really this mission should have taken at most a couple of hours, this type of mission was Soap’s bread and butter, he worked on a fucking anti-terrorist taskforce so the mission shouldn’t have gone as badly as it did, but clearly, the men had gotten the wrong intel and there where more enemies in the building than they had been expecting.
Soap was used to missions going bad, he couldn’t think bad of a mission that had gone as planned from beginning to end but this mission took the piss on how bad it could go, from the moment Soap set off the breach charge all hell broke loose.
The shooting started the moment the breach charge went off, clearly, they hadn’t been stealthy enough and the enemies inside had noticed them; this is what Soap gets for working with newbies, but Soap was able to get himself into the compound, and hide behind a wall, which allowed him time to gather his thoughts of what he was going to do next. The other men in the task force were dotted about all hiding from the barrage of gunfire.
At some point the shooting stopped, after all, guns only had so much ammo before it had to be reloaded, Soap used this opportunity to gather his men and to take siege of the compound, which actually went better than suspected. They were able to capture the room which they were in which gave them the opportunity to keep an eye on the whole compound. Soap ordered the men to siege every room, looking for the hostages, Soap took two men with him whilst other teams of three split off, though he ordered ten men to stay in the main area just in case any backup tried to get into the compound.
The first two rooms they kicked the door down went well, nothing of concern in the rooms, only old papers and books littered the floor; Soap took a mental note to get some of the men to look back through these rooms to see if there was any evidence.
The third room is where once again, shit hit the fan. Instead of being tactile one of the soldiers had gotten too cocky and decided to just kick down the locked door instead of allowing Soap to set up a breach to blow the door off. Instead, the soldier got one good kick on the door and then a bullet was ripping through his abdomen and he dropped to the floor like a sack of shit. The door then opened and the enemy walked out to finish the job with the man who was withering on the floor, this gave Soap the opportunity to sneak behind the enemy and to dig his knife into the enemies carotid artery, the good feeling of an enemy going down was short lasting when a bullet blasted through Soap’s right thigh and like the soldier he fell to the floor with a thud and found his hands holding tightly onto the wound. Luckily other soldiers had heard the commotion and came to support the team, Soap and the other soldier who was injured were dragged out of the way of the enemy fire.
Soap was put against a wall, hidden behind a vehicle, and told to stay put whilst the rest of the compound was secured, if Soap wasn’t in so much pain he would have replied sarcastically, it's not like he could get far when there was currently a hole in his thigh.
He must have been delirious from blood loss when he bought out his civilian phone - was that going against every rule in the army? Yes. Did Soap give a fuck? No. Soap thought he would give his teammates an update on his situation. He bought up the camera app on his phone and he took a photo of his bloody hand which was currently keeping pressure on the wound.
When Soap looked at the photo you could clearly see he had been shot, blood covered his hands and fresh blood slipped through his fingers, his combat pants were covered in the substance and it looked like a murder scene.
After the picture was taken Soap opened the 141 group chat, which wasn’t used much. It mostly held memes that Gaz and Soap sent to each other and the odd message from Price saying if they kept up with their shit they would be cleaning toilets for the next month.
The Big Scot: Attached Photo.
The Big Scot: Mission is not going to plan :(
Message seen by: Gaz The Man
Gaz The Man: What the fuck Soap, is this a joke?
Opening the camera app again Soap took another photo of him with his thumb up which showed the bullet hole and more of the gore which comes with having a bullet rip through flesh.
The Big Scot: Attached photo
The Big Scot: Why would I be joking?
Message seen by: Gaz The Man, Ghost, Price
Soap’s phone then flashed up alerting him that someone was calling him; it was Price, but Soap was too tired to talk so he let the call go to his answer phone, once the call ended he was met with a barrage of messages in the group chat. Gaz must of told the rest to look at the group chat
Gaz The Man: Get to a fucking medic????
Price: Answer your damn phone.
The Big Scot: The fuck am I meant to get to the medic if I cannae walk?
Gaz The Man: IDK, shout, you idiot?
The Big Scot: And alert the enemies? Big brain idea that one is mate.
Ghost: Answer your fucking phone
Price: Answer the phone, Sargeant.
Once again Soap watched as his phone lit up, alerting him of the incoming call; this time it was from Ghost. Which once again went unanswered by Soap. Soap felt himself slip down the wall and his eyes got heavier.
The Big Scot: Ngl guys, I’m kinda tired.
Message seen by: Gaz The Man, Ghost, Price
Gaz The Man: Nope, no falling asleep.
Ghost: Don’t even think of closing your eyes, you idiot.
Price: Keep those eyes open son, carry on talking to us.
The Big Scot: Yeah, yeah will try. Working with fucking idiots.
Price: What happened son?
The Big Scot: The usual.
Gaz The Man: The fuck does that mean?
Hearing his name being said Soap put his phone away and ignored the vibrating of his phone against the leg with the shrapnel in. It was a medic.
“I’m here to get you out of here sir.” The lady helped him onto his feet but the moment his injured leg had pressure on it a red-hot pain slammed through the whole of his leg and he was falling to the floor with a pained grunt which caused more pain to shoot through his leg and the pain ended up being the factor which knocked him out.
When Soap opened his eyes he was in a heli, the medic who had said his name was working on his wound.
“You must have some friends in very high-up places because no one called for a heli.” Price must have told Laswell who ordered his evacuation. Soap hummed as a reply, still too tired to reply with words.
The medic once again started to speak.
“Your phone has been going off nonstop. Would you like it?” Soap sighed.
“Sure, why not. Let's see what the boys are saying to me.” The medic rummaged through Soap's pocket and passed his phone to him.
Looking at his messages, he winced. Soap could see he fucked up by messaging the group chat. Why the fuck did he think that was a good idea in the first place?
The first thing he saw was missed calls from both Ghost and Price, he was totally fucked once he got back to base, maybe he would tell the medic to leave him alone at least if he dies now, Ghost and Price won’t have the satisfaction of doing it themselves.
Soap pressed onto the group chat to see it full of messages calling him every name under the sun and telling him to answer a fucking text or call. His favourite message being from Ghost
Ghost: If you aren’t dead already, I’ll fucking wring your neck when you get back.
Because Soap was a shithead, he reacted with a heart to the message, which then made the chat explode again.
Gaz The Man: You alive there mate?
The Big Scot: Nah, talking to my ghost.
Ghost: Where are you?
Price: I am going to call you one more and if you don’t answer you will not be in the base for long.
The Big Scot: Can you just beat my arse when I get back? Currently got some medics hand searching for a bullet in my thigh.
Ghost: Why the fuck are you on your phone Sargeant?
The Big Scot: Something to take my mind off the fact that there's a medic rummaging through a bullet wound.
Price: Come right to my office when you come back.
The Big Scot: Aye, currently in a heli, don’t ask me where I’m going 'cause I have no idea.
Price: Back to base, I got Laswell to pull some strings, to my office the moment you get out of the medbay Soap.
The Big Scot: Got your message the first time Cap, will be there.
Ghost: Then come find me so I can fucking snap your neck.
The Big Scot: Is that really how you talk to your injured friend, I’m hurt :(
Ghost: I’ll make sure you feel hurt when I see you.
Gaz The Man: See this is why I’m the best friend here Soap, I’m not going to threaten to kill you.
The Big Scot: Thanks Gaz, can always count on you to have my back.
Price: All of you get off your goddamn phones before I confiscate them all.
Looking back down at his thigh, the medic was now stitching him up.
“You will have to go to the medbay, these are just temporary stitches, and need to be looked at by a professional.” Soap nodded and replied.
“Aye, thanks for all your help lassie.” Some painkillers were thrown at his chest.
“Take two of those, they should knock you out for the rest of the flight and help with the pain.”
Doing what he was told Soap took two of the painkillers and swallowed them dry.
—----------
The plane jostling woke Soap up; the plane had landed.
Soap pushed himself up from where he’d been laying on the bench, he rubbed his leg feeling the pain of his stitches being pulled. Getting back onto his feet took him longer than he was willing to admit, blood loss and pain still making him tired and clumsy.
“Remember to go to the medbay straight away Sargeant MacTavish, I told the medical team that you will be there soon.” Soap nodded and said to the medic.
“Thanks for the help, ‘ppreciate it.” The medic nodded but did not reply.
Lucky for Soap none of the 141 were waiting for him which gave him the opportunity to get to the medbay without being eaten out by any of them.
—------------------------------------
Soap spent the rest of the day in the medbay, being poked and prodded by the medical team by the time he was able to leave he had enough painkillers in his bloodstream to kill a horse, he was tired and annoyed. It was 3am by the time he got the all-clear from the medical team, so, instead of going to see Price he decided to go to bed, surely the man would be in bed himself. Thought, Soap was suspicious that none of 141 had come to see him whilst he was in the medbay and he was like 99% sure that they knew he was there. They must be seriously pissed with him.
Limping along the hallway to his room, Soap regretted refusing to take the crutches when the doctor has told him it would help him with not agitating the wound, as he could feel the stitches pull with each step, the pain killers he was given made the hallway spin around him, he’d always been terrible on them and this case was no better, but it beat the agonising pain of being shot in his thigh.
Once again Soap got to his room suspiciously easy, without bumping into anyone, sure it was 3am but there was always someone about even this early, but Soap couldn’t find it in him to care as all he wanted to do was sleep.
The room was still the same as he left it, nothing was out of place but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the feeling of being watched slithered down his spine but when he looked around his room he didn’t see anything. Soap put it down to just being shot and still being paranoid about enemies being around him.
Soap was able to get himself comfortable on his bed when he heard a deep voice come from the corner of his room.
“Didn’t the Captain tell you to go see him once you got out of the medbay?” Soap jumped and ended up moving his injured leg in the wrong way causing an electric shock of pain to run through his body. Soap held onto his thigh and said with pain in his voice.
“You cunt Ghost, what the fuck?” The taller man moved out of the darkness, the taller man wore a black shirt that was just a little too tight on him, a pair of black joggers, and his casual balaclava which had the faded motif of a skull.
“Go see the Captain, Sargeant.” Soap scoffed.
“It is 3am Lt. The only thing I’m doing is going to sleep, I’ll talk to Price in the morning. I’m sure he’s asleep, unlike some creeper I know.” Ghost did not reply to Soap’s taunt.
“The moment it hit’s 8am, I am dragging your sorry arse straight to him.” Huffing Soap pulled himself up so he back laid against the beds head board.
“What’s up Lt? You’re walkin’ around my room like you have ants in your pants?”
“What the hell were you thinking Soap, was in a meeting with Price when Gaz ran into the room telling us to look at the group chat like right now and the first thing I see is your fucking leg covered in blood.” Soap shrugged.
“Not gonna lie Ghost, I wasn’t thinking. I was in pain, working with a team I didn’t trust and didn’t know and I don’t know I just sent the picture before even thinking about it.”
Ghost took a seat at the end of the bed, next to Soap's feet.
“You scared the shit out of us all, we all felt fucking useless.”
Soap did feel guilty bubble in his chest, he never meant to scare his teammates, knowing how useless they must have felt, 141 being hours away from them injured and them not being able to do anything to help.
Moving his injured leg, Soap placed it on Ghost’s lap and Ghost laid his hand on the lower part of his leg trying to keep as far away from the injury and he squeezed Soap's leg.
“I’m fine Ghost, I’m here now. No need to carry on being worried. You can tear my a new arsehole in the morning, you need as much sleep as I do.”
“I hope you know that I will not let you go on a mission without one of the 141. Seems you need one of us at your six.” Soap smiled, really the only person he needed on a mission with him was Ghost, the only person Soap truly relaxed around and would trust his life in their arms was Ghost.
“I think that's a fair trade, to be honest, if the American prick hadn’t tried to kick down the door and got shot himself, I wouldn’t ever of been in the eyesight of the other person in the room. It was all his fault and if I ever see him again he will be getting another bullet in his stomach.” Ghost couldn’t agree more, if Ghost ever got his hands on that idiot he would regret the day he was born, putting not only himself at risk but also his teammates, what an absolute bellend.
“C’mon Ghost, I’m tired. Time to go to sleep.” Ghost went to move Soap's foot to remove himself from the room when Soap said.
“I didn’t say you had to leave Si, stay with me. We both know you won’t sleep tonight if you leave.”
Ghost couldn’t say no to Soap, even if he wanted to. The Scot has always been his weakness, but whilst they were in this room where no one could see them he would indulge in his weakness.
Ghost found himself at the top of the bed with Soap, Soap resting his head against the taller man's chest.
“Just a warning I get some weird fucking dreams when on painkillers, so just ignore me if I start acting like a freak.” Ghost nodded and replied
“Just go to sleep Soap.” And who was he to not listen to his lieutenant. As Soap slipped in sleep he felt a hand run through his mohawk and lips covered by cloth against his forehead.