Chapter Text
The first time Ghost ever thought Soap wasn’t human was in Mexico.
The amount of walking that he had to do, the bleeding he had to do, and the amount of strength the man had to go through to get to the church was something inhuman.
Ghost had been too busy worrying about the fact that Soap was shot, people were dying, and men wanted them dead to worry about the fallacies of impossible feats such as what Soap did.
What he does remember, though, is hesitating as he wrapped Soap’s arm, staring at the deep wound and finding that his blood smelled…
...It smelled like petrichor and dirt.
At the time, Ghost brushed it off as the fact that Soap had just dragged himself through the entirety of Las Almas, fighting tooth and nail to get there. Ghost brushed it off as the rain was still digging in his clothes, and the dirt on his shoes.
Later on, much later on, will Ghost remember that Soap was undressed, and most of his clothes and shoes were either dry or in the other room.
It’s not that Ghost is dumb, or stupid in any way shape or form. It’s that Ghost, in his life, has learned not to ask questions.
“Stop fucking asking questions, you piece of shit!”
Simon hears his father yell, pinching his ear and shaking him.
Don’t ask questions,
--don’t ask questions and Dad won’t hurt you.
Good things didn’t happen to Ghost. Good things were rare, so when Price gave him his own room after he bled through all of his clothes from a mission, he didn’t ask why Price’s eyebrows were tight. Why his hands shook as he wrapped Ghost's stomach, making sure that his blood stayed inside him where it should be. Why Price tried to stay away from him for a couple of days, and would breath through his mouth.
When he was given Gaz’s shiny baubles, and was offered food from Gaz’s own plate, he didn’t question. The man was very hesitant to accept Ghost in the beginning, almost skittish in the way that he interacted with Price.
The way he ran and ran, and didn't get tired. The way his eyes would shine a little too yellow at times, and he never mentioned it because Ghost was not dumb, and he should not ask questions. The way that he didn't trust Ghost around Price, even though he's admitted that it was because Ghost was strong and would try to take his position.
Ghost, before, thought that it had been because Ghost was so big, so terrifying. That he wouldn’t accept Price’s control over him, because he was The Ghost , a volatile, scary cryptid of a man.
He didn’t know he was very, very close to the truth.
It’s almost a year after Mexico, and they’re back in town for some more paperwork.
It’s always paperwork. Ghost glares at the stack of paper, sighing heavily as he’s signing, and reading. He’s ready to call it a night, especially as the world starts looking a little blurry.
He’s getting ready for bed, when he hears talking outside of his room.
Alejandro had apologized when he brought him to his room, saying that it was the closest to the kitchen, and some of the people there spoke pretty loudly. Ghost had waved him off, telling him that a single room for himself was already too much to ask for, and he’ll take what he can get.
He hears hissing, with a specific lilt that he recognizes. Opening the door slightly, he sees Soap angrily talking to someone on the phone.
Ghost is too tired to really pay attention, but he hears some scraps and talks.
“... you said that it was going to be a week at most…”
“...can’t last that long... Rudy maybe but--… a month! Three!?!”
Ghost raises his eyebrow, then gently closes the door, letting Soap fight with who he guesses is Price.
Soap had been right, Price had told them that this mission would be a little over a week. Soap had been excited at the prospect of seeing his friends, specifically Rudy as him and Soap were very close.
Ghost wonders if he regrets coming, though. A month in Mexico heat is pretty crazy, especially for people like Ghost and Soap, who turn flushed red at anything higher than 70 degrees.
Ghost laughs to himself as he sets the bed, sliding into the bed, and brushing off Soap’s comment as something that he would eventually forget, and won’t be important.
It’s around week two in Las Almas when Ghost notices that Soap starts to get antsy.
It’s gradual, at first. Soap has always been a hazard, someone who does without much thinking. Ghost likes that about him, his loudness, his boldness.
But, it’s more than that this time.
He’s twitchy, almost angry at the world.
He doesn’t come out of the room unless ordered too, and even then, he has dark shades on that cover his eyes, and he looks gaunt.
Ghost is worried, but he is not the type of person to come up to Soap and ask him if he’s okay, so he leaves it.
Soap looks very uncomfortable, though, and Ghost sees Rudy eye him curiously. Almost as if he knows something that Ghost knows.
There is a hesitance in Soap’s face when Rudy talks to him, almost like he knows.
Ghost pretends not to feel jealous.
Ghost is pretty in tune with his emotions. He understands them, and acknowledges them.
The fact that he doesn’t act on them is a totally different story.
This comes to mind when Ghost realizes that he is actually very much in love with Soap.
He can say that it started back when they survived Las Almas. Something about this funky haired guy made a part of him that died 6 feet under ground kick and scream. Hurdling past his defenses, and gripping Ghost by the throat, telling him that he will love again, by damnit, and he’s going to enjoy it.
Ghost doesn’t ask anything from Soap. He does not expect that when he finds out he’s in love with him. He enjoys being in love with Soap, since it’s… just so easy.
Soap’s hands dance over his wounds, the cold tips of his fingers brushing over old, old scars that Ghost doesn’t talk about. Soap’s eyes always seem so, so blue when he looks up at Ghost, calm and collected.
Something about him is so perfect, so alive. Alive in a way that the heart in Ghost’s chest isn’t. It hasn’t been for a long, long time. Not since Roba, not since Roach, not since his Mother’s hands on his face, and her kiss in his hair.
Loving Soap is easy, and it is part of Ghost’s life. It does not mean that he is going to accept it.
There had been too many times in Ghost’s childhood that told him that telling someone your feelings was going to cause problems. Times where his father belted him, or smacked him across the face when Ghost told him he felt sad.
“Stop being a pussy. Be a fucking man, Simon!”
Of course, he knows that that Soap would never belittle his feelings like that. Ghost thinks that he’d take Ghost’s face in his hands, and gently cup his cheeks. Maybe tell him in that sweet lilt of his that yeah, he loves him too but not like that.
Not ever like that.
Maybe that’s what makes Ghost hesitate to reach out. To touch Soap’s hand, and comfort him like Soap’s being comforts Ghost.
This innate fear of being rejected, no matter how kind Soap is to him and his heart.
Ghost knows he loves Soap, but Ghost also knows that he is a coward when it comes to things like this.
His dad would be ashamed.
It’s three weeks when Soap finally snaps.
There’s a mission that both him and Soap are brought into, since Alejandro and Rudy need help. Since Shephard, since Graves, it’s been hard to find people they trust.
Rudy and Alejandro will always have Soap and Ghost’s back, and they know it’s vice versa as well.
Ghost, if he was a better man, would tell Rudy’s sad eyes that he trusted him. If he was a better man, he would give Alejandro a warm smile, a hug, something to remind them that they aren’t alone, and never will be.
But, he’s not a good man.
All he can do is keep them alive.
Maybe they’ll know. Maybe that’ll be enough.
Right now, Rudy is staring intently at the camera, his eyes passing over certain things that fly into the radar, intensely writing down notes and numbers that fly over Ghost’s head.
“Soap, you doing okay?”
Rudy says softly into the mic, and the man hums gently as him and Alejandro’s cams show them going through the doors, checking every corner, and turn.
Ghost is worried about Soap, though, as he stares at his cam. His hands are shaking, and his camera keeps jumping back and forth. Almost like he could hear something Alejandro couldn’t.
“I am fine,”
Rudy meets Ghost’s eyes, and Rudy turns to press his mic again, when there’s an ear splitting scream.
Ghost jumps as people are jumping out of the doors, throwing Soap and slamming against the camera, killing the feed.
“SHIT!” Ghost cusses loudly, pulling out his gun and ignoring Rudy as he runs into the fray. He knows that there aren’t many people, from the heat detectors that they had it had to be only, at most, 10 or 15.
Ghost can take those. He will, for Soap.
His boots slap against the ground, spraying water as it starts to drizzle around him. He can hear Rudy’s voice grow softer, knowing that he’s worried about Ghost, not just his Colonel.
He can’t leave Soap by himself.
There’s screaming as he’s going through the halls, putting his flashlight over his wrist and checking corners and rooms. Just because he’s trying to run in guns blazing doesn’t mean he isn’t going to check his blind spots.
There’s an acrid smell of blood, and Ghost throws open the door to the main room. There are lights flickering and blinking at him,swinging back and forth as they show the bloodbath that Alejandro and Soap left.
Ghost’s brown eyes trace the bloody boot marks of large shoes, and he knows from a certain marking that they are Alejandro’s. The man in question is propped up on his side, gripping his ribs, and shaking as he breaths.
“Alejandro,” Ghost whispers softly, quickly going to him. The man smiles, and there’s blood on his teeth.
“Ghost. Carnal , what a sight for sore eyes,” the man says, and Ghost leans down to check on him. There isn’t much blood besides the redness on his teeth.
“You alright?”
“Bruised ribs. Bullet proof vests always save the day, huh?” He winks and Ghost denies the flush that goes down his cheeks.
Ghost speaks into the mic in his hand, telling Rudy what is going on when he hears something to his left.
He starts to turn towards it, when Alejandro grabs his legs.
“Carnal, don’t worry about that--”
“It’s Soap, I have to check up on him--” He brushes him off, ignoring Alejandro as he starts to tell him not to go. Alejandro can’t stand, though, and Ghost guesses that he also hurt his leg during the scuffle.
“Ghost, Ghost, don’t--”
Ghost opens the door to the nearest room, ignoring the feeling of the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention.
There’s an imminent feeling of dread as the door slowly creaks open. The light in the room is almost non-existent, only a thin sliver touching the blood covered floor. It shined back at him, showing him a large red pool of blood, and viscera that he was used to
What he wasn't used to, was the scene before him.
“... John...?”
Ghost whispers softly, stepping into the room, when he sees two shining coins looking at him. The gentle light of the moon flicks in those coins, and Ghost feels his stomach fall.
The thin sliver of moonlight is enough to let him see Soap bent forward over a man’s body, his hands cupped and drinking blood in the gentle hands that trace his scars. The hands that touch him, and ask him if he's okay are wrist deep in someones chest. What he thought were shining coins are actually Soap’s eyes, glinting in the same way a predators does.
Blue, blue eyes stare back at him, flickering in the gentle light. Soap’s mouth is popped open, large fangs glittering with the red, red of the blood he cups into his mouth. His face is ethereal in a way that Ghost had never seen before, and the pallidness of his skin is gone.
Blood drips down his long neck, one that Ghost ached to bite into. Ghost swallows thickly as Soap licks his lips, and his eyes flicker at him, almost as if finally realizing he was there.
Ghost is not a stupid man.
Instead of freaking out, instead of saying anything, he steps back and closes the door, pretending that his stomach isn’t falling out of his ass, and that his breathing didn’t stop at seeing Soap drink a man’s blood.
Ghost is not a stupid man.
So he turns right back to Alejandro, who stares at him with wide eyes, and swallows bile.
“Let’s go,”
He lifts Alejandro, throwing his arm over his shoulder, and in a daze, walks the Colonel back to his and Rudy’s camp out. There is a heavy buzz in his ear as Alejandro and Rudy quip at each other in Spanish, and Rudy starts to get a little loud.
Ghost doesn’t say anything as they begin to fight, and he knows they’re talking about him, he knows Spanish. He doesn't think that they remember that.
But all he can see and hear is the sounds of Soap drinking blood, of his blue, blue eyes glowing like coins. His hands cupped in the open chest of a man, and--
Ghost leans over and vomits on the side of the road.