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Soap is in his room slowly taking inventory of the multiple bruises on his right arm. The limb took quite a beating last mission with him using it to forcefully open doors, body-slam Russians - or maybe they were Belarussian, and do some very impressive rolling dodges.
He winces as he brushes past a nasty purple bump on his deltoid muscle. He’s sure he will be feeling that one for a while.
Naturally, he could visit medical to get some cream for the bruising and an ice pack for his muscles, but that would mean having to explain to the nurses where he got his injuries. Telling the nurses would lead to an existing medical report attached to the mission about his arm.
The arm he specifically didn’t tell his worrywart lieutenant about.
Ghost always pretends to not care about what happens to others in the field. His cold persona keeping anyone at an arm’s length. He demanded them all to tell them about their injuries, but he didn’t do much more than forcing them to go to medical immediately. If you weren’t Soap of course.
Soap became aware of Ghost’s particular concern for him even before they had boarded the plane home from Las Almas. His lieutenant refused to let him even roll his luggage to the plane. It had wheels! And Soap’s left arm was fine! The older man only gave him a death stare when he had fruitlessly attempted to at least carry his own carry-on. Ghost had looked like a single parent of 3 walking around the airbase with both of their luggage.
On the plane it didn’t get much better. Ghost had herded him into a seat in the back corner and placed himself between Soap and the other guys. He didn’t say a word the entire flight, but Soap swears that he heard the tall man growl as someone approached them for a friendly chat.
When Soap had needed to use the toilet he almost got a heart attack when he left the stall, as Ghost had stood watch next to the door. To his embarrassment, the other man had not needed a break himself, as he simply walked them back to the seats in the corner.
Ghost had kept up his overprotective behavior for at least three weeks. Scaring most lower ranks and even a few CO’s into keeping their distance from the Scot. His ever-looming presence made it impossible for Soap to do anything strenuous or even anything that wasn’t just sitting down and overseeing privates running in the yard.
And their bastard captain had only encouraged the lieutenant’s actions, sometimes even filling in for the man when he had other obligations to attend to. The only time Soap was alone was at night. Though he couldn’t be sure the less-than-discreet shuffling outside of his room wasn’t someone that Ghost had forced to take watch.
So, to go to medical would mean telling the nurses, who would then give his lieutenant the medical report, which would mean having to deal with Ghost’s strange protectiveness again.
While Soap didn’t mind being handled by Ghost as if he was too precious to lose (something he was carefully avoiding thinking too deeply about), he wasn’t going to get him all worked up over nothing. Not just as the other man had begun to return to normal. It was just some bruising.
Soap tried massaging his hurt arm with the other, but the injury was too fresh, too painful. He attempted to circle around the blues, reds, and purples, but came to the unfortunate conclusion that his arm was like one giant bruised peach. He can’t relieve tension around the bruises when there is barely any unbruised skin to touch.
He had to suck it up.
He was expected to be at a mission debriefing in less than an hour. If he could make it through that he would be in the clear and could silently recover for however long it would take for Price to send them out on another mission.
Soap shimmied off his gear and slowly pulled off his shirt. Raising his arm was only possible through Herculean effort. He was getting very tired from having to keep it together. He wants to curse loudly, he wants to go to medical, he wants to rest.
But he can’t do that, he still has his role as sergeant to fulfill. People depend on him and the information he can provide about the mission. So he takes a quick shower, pulls on a clean long-sleeved shirt, and makes his way to Captain Price’s office. When he gets there, Ghost and Price are already waiting for him. He closes the door behind him.
“Glad to see you in one piece,” Price starts jovially. Ghost only grunts in response to his entrance. “I’ve gathered from Ghost’s report that the mission on your end went about as solid as it could’ve. There were some close calls however and I expect the both of you to review your actions and make sure they won’t happen again.” From the corner of his eye he can see Ghost shamelessly looking at him, snitch .
Soap knows that as a lieutenant, Ghost has to provide a complete overview of all the decisions made on the field during the mission. Soap also knows, being a sergeant himself, that there is no need to go too deeply into individual actions when on paper a mission went without a hitch. Ghost and Price just talk about him for no reason other than the fact they are too protective.
Captain Price spoke some more about the objectives and Soap confirmed the statements Ghost had made about the mission. It wasn’t like Ghost would’ve lied, it was standard procedure. Soap did have a brief moment of guilt when he confirmed no injuries on their squad. He didn’t count his bruises as real injuries, they probably wouldn’t have even made it into the real mission files, but he knows Price and Ghost would’ve wanted to know.
Soap almost wanted to playfully mention the bruising, just to pretend he had forgotten. To make it seem like it was an afterthought he only came by just before the meeting. But the moment passed and he stayed silent. His captain and lieutenant had other, more pressing matters to attend to.
“That was it, boys. Good work out there. You’re dismissed.” Price looked down at the paperwork in front of him and sighed. “If there’s anything else, know that my door is always open.”
Ghost and Soap walked out of the office. Both of them had an after-mission routine they adhered to. They’d debrief with Price, make their way to the mess hall, and then make their way towards their respective rooms to gather their thoughts about the hell on earth that was their job.
Soap mechanically made his way towards the general direction of the mess hall. His arm was aching and all he wanted was some peace. As the hallways became more crowded, he unfortunately started zoning out. He was on course to collide with a soldier when Ghost grabbed his arm to pull him out of the way.
Soap let out a hiss before he could help it. Besides him, Ghost stilled.
“What was that, Johnny?” Soap was thinking about what to say, but was evidently not quick enough to respond. “What was that, Sergeant?” Ghost ground out.
“Ach, it's nuthin', Lt. Just surprised me a bit.” Soap’s quick response didn’t appear to placate Ghost.
“So, if I forced you to go to medical right now, the nurses wouldn’t be upset?” Ghost asked.
“Naw, dinnae fash yersel'. Nae bother tae be ha'in ower. A' is weel,” Soap responded.
“English, Johnny.” And why did Ghost have to sound so… so soft?
“Nothing’s wrong, Lt.. You don’t have to worry.”
“It’s my job to worry about you.”
“Yer job, aye?” Soap scoffed.
Ghost leaned in closer to Soap’s ear, “Could call it my little passion project.” Soap flushed at his words.
Ghost looked at Soap for a few moments and Soap couldn’t understand the look in his eyes. The taller man suddenly straightened out and looked around. Most soldiers had made their way to the mess hall, and the corridor was close to being deserted.
“Come with me,” Ghost said. Soap was nodding yes before he even processed the request. Never one to refuse one of Ghosts orders, in or off the field.
Ghost turned around and began walking in the opposite direction of the mess hall. They’d been walking for a short while before it became clear to Soap that they were making their way towards the officer’s quarters.
Soap realized that Ghost absolutely wasn’t going to let him get away with whatever he’d be hiding. But, he didn’t understand why the other man hadn’t immediately shown his anger. If anything, Soap would describe him as being nicer than usual.
They arrived at Ghost's room and the man opened the door to let the both of them inside. The room was much more spacious than the barracks the sergeants resided in, but, from the brief moments Soap had been able to look into Price’s room, much more humble than that of the other officers’. Perhaps Ghost had exchanged square metres for a bit more privacy.
Soap was looking around, drinking in all the little bits of Ghost, no of Simon, that he could find. He didn’t hear Ghost lock the door, and if it hadn’t been for the other man letting him hear his footsteps, he would’ve been scared straight at the sudden invasion of his personal space.
“Lt.?” Soap croaked out as he turned around and stood only centimeters from Ghost.
“Where are you hurt, Johnny?”
Not ‘are you hurt?’, but ‘where are you hurt?’, Soap now had confirmation that Ghost knew something was up. Lying directly was off the table and would prolong the inevitable. Soap also didn’t want to lie anymore, not when it was just the two of them. Not when Ghost was acting so uncharacteristically soft.
“Jist some bruisin', Simon. Really, it's no' tha' bad at aw.”
“Can I have a look?” Apparently Soap didn’t say ‘yes’ soon enough, because the other man asked again. “Can I have a look, please?” And Soap was done for.
“Aye, ye can.”
At the Scot’s consent, Ghost moved his arms towards the bottom of Soap’s shirt. He carefully lifted the fabric off, gaze betraying nothing about his thoughts as nearly the whole damn rainbow was revealed on Soap’s arm.
Ghost slowly guided them to sit on the small couch next to his desk. He appeared to take a quick inventory of the left arm and Soap’s abdomen, when he saw nothing much to be concerned with, he returned his full focus to the right arm.
Ghost was incredibly gentle as he held the limb and true to his name as his fingers barely touched skin as he brushed over some of the more raised areas on Soap’s bicep.
“Was I close when you got these?” Ghost suddenly asked. “Did I have you in my sight? Could I have prevented this?” Soap shook his head immediately.
“Naw! This was aw ma ain fault. Ah wis ower keen an' didnae think o' ony consequences.”
“If there was anything I could’ve done, anything at all, please tell me. I don’t think I could handle not knowing.” Ghost’s voice sounded rough.
The hand of Soap’s uninjured arm came up to softly hold Ghost’s. He pulled it towards a blue splotch on his lower arm. “Ah got this when Ah bashed one ‘o thaim ower the heid. Ah could hae used ma gun, but Ah wisnae thinkin'.”
He moved their hands up to the purple on his deltoid. “Ah rolled awa' in a flashy way when Ah wis gettin' shot at. Ye ken me, cannae jist sit an' hide fur a wee while like a normal lad.” Soap tried to laugh it off, but he noticed Ghost didn’t laugh with him.
The other man looked at the bump intensely, before moving his head close. Soap could feel the fabric of the man’s mask as his arm received a soft kiss. Soap gasped softly.
“Is the man who shot at you dead?” Ghost’s unstable voice now had a sharper edge.
“Aye, Ah think sae. Gaz didnae seem tae appreciate whit he'd daen a whole lot when he noticed.” Soap responded.
Ghost nodded to himself and Soap realized that if the enemy hadn’t been KIA yet, Ghost would’ve changed that. Just for messing with Soap on a battlefield, that man’s fate had been sealed. Soap felt a warmth in his chest, he felt safe.
“Ah’m sorry Simon.”
Ghost responded by gathering Soap in his arms. Despite the awkward angle, the larger man trying to avoid putting any pressure on Soap’s bad arm, the hug brought Soap comfort. He couldn’t help but lean into it.
Ghost pressed his covered face to Soap’s temple this time. Another gentle kiss that flipped Soap’s whole world.
“In the future, just tell me?” It was a question that Soap knew the other man desperately wanted to make an order.
“Aye, Ah will.” Soap nearly whispered. Ghost hummed to show he had heard.
They sat in a silent embrace for a long while. Outside Ghost’s door, they could hear a few CO’s returning to their rooms after dinner. Outside a smattering of soldiers enjoying a moment of free time. But that noise also eventually disappeared as the sun set. Neither moved away.
“Johnny?” Ghost broke the silence after the final bell rang.
“Aye?”
“I’m going to tell Price.”
“Aw, man. ”