Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You would think that being in a military setting would make it near impossible to hide being trans. In truth, it’s not as hard as it seems. When changing in a locker room or taking a shower in the base bathrooms, everyone is usually too focused on their own tasks to pay any real attention to anyone else. That’s not to say that Soap still isn’t cautious. He still prefers to change with his back facing his team, and showers either early in the mornings or late at night when he knows it will be relatively empty. He changes the tape (a similar color to his skin to make it less noticeable) on his chest in the privacy of his own room, late at night and with only the brightness of his phone as a light source. Not the most efficient method, but it’s discrete. Soap doesn’t really have to worry when on long ops. His gear usually hides any semblance of his chest should the tape become loose and start to peel off. But what about medical situations? Lucky for Soap, Laswell had pulled some strings so medics knew to firmly keep their mouths shut.

Laswell is the only person Soap has told. He had done it when he first met her and had practically begged the woman not to put it in his file. She had agreed, somewhat, to Soap’s surprise. Laswell had even gone as far as to change all his documents to match with his identity. She did, legally, for medical reasons have to put that he was trans in his file, however she assured Soap that only necessary people (i.e. medical personnel) would have access to that information. To anyone else, the information would be redacted.

It wasn’t long after that Soap had begun to work with the 141. While Laswell had promised that the team was open minded and wouldn’t judge him, Soap had still been hesitant to tell them of his transition. He was grateful when Laswell accepted this without argument and let him decide on his own when, or if, he would tell them.

Which brings us to today. It’s been a few years since the formation of 141 and the team had only grown closer to each other. However, Soap still had yet to tell them he was trans, and his team had not found out on their own. He can’t decide if he’s happy about it or not. On one hand, him being trans is none of his team’s business and what they think about it shouldn’t matter. On the other, being trans has definitely had an effect on his life. Hell, he’s lost family and friends over it, and an anxious voice in the back of his mind is worried he’d lose his team as well if they ever found out. Even more of a reason not to tell them, right? Except, Soap wants to know how they will react. He wants to know if they would support him, or disown him like so many others before. It’s a terrifying thought, but Soap can’t see himself being friends with or trusting people who would be disgusted by his existence. Still…he can’t seem to build up the courage and no time ever seems right. So, Soap has said nothing, and prays his team won’t find out until he’s ready.

Currently, Soap is sitting at a booth in a bar, his teammates with him as they all nursed their respective drinks. They had recently come back from a week-long operation, one of the rare ones that went off without a hitch or any casualties. So, once back on base and after getting cleaned up, the four had decided to go out for a few celebratory drinks. Soap was sat on one side of the booth with Gaz leaning against his side, an arm over the Scot’s shoulders. Price was across from the two, recounting a story from his time as a recruit. It’s a tale the others had heard before, but they still laughed along the same way they did when they first heard it. Ghost sat next to Price, his balaclava rolled up to rest on the bridge of his nose, a small barely-there smile on his scarred lips.

Soap, who was entranced in Price’s story, was brought back to himself as he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. The Scot sets his drink down and reaches into his pocket to pull out the device, Gaz leaning back to make it easier for him to move. Soap looked down as a number with no caller ID lit up his screen. “Gonna answer that, Johnny?” Ghost asks from across the table, a small smirk on his face as he takes a sip of his whiskey. Soap rolled his eyes and flipped the lieutenant off as he pressed the answer button. “Hello?” He says as he brings his phone up to his ear.

“Joana?”

Soap’s heart drops into his stomach as his mother’s voice greets him. His team must immediately sense something is wrong, because the booth suddenly goes silent. “Everything alright, Tav?” Gaz asks, his brows furrowed with concern. Soap plasters on a forced smile and waves his teammates’ concern away. “Gotta take this.” He says as he stands from the booth, quickly making his way out of the bar and out onto the quieter, late night street.

“Ma?” The sergeant murmurs into the phone in slight disbelief. He hadn’t heard from his parents in years. Not since he left home at sixteen to join the military (boy did that take a lot of lying that Laswell ended up seeing right through. But, hey, she helped him anyway so, a win is a win). “Joanna, sweetie!” His mother’s voice echoes through the phone, “It’s been so long! How are ye doin’?” Soap takes a moment to respond, still reeling from the sudden call. “Ah’m alright, but ye know I go by John n-.” She suddenly cuts him off. “That’s great, dear. Yer Da an’ I just wanted ta check in on ye. Ye never call us anymore.” She says, her voice sickly sweet. Soap feels a spark of guilt shoot through him.

“Aye,” Soap murmurs in reply, shifting his weight uncomfortably and rubbing the back of his neck, “Jus’ been busy wit’ missions an’ trainin’ an’ such.” “Too busy ta call yer own family?” The voice of his father cuts in. Soap visibly cringes, tensing where he stood. “Aye.” He responds weakly. He can hear his father scoff on the other side of the phone. “Ye shouldnae gone an’ run off, Joana. Shoulda stayed home wit’ yer folks and yer family. Now ye cannae even have the decency ta call once in awhile.” The older man huffs through the phone. Soap can feel his guilt growing, but anger comes along with it this time. “It’s John, and ye huvnae reached out all this time either.” He points out sharply.

“Ugh, yer still on tha’ bein’ a boy thing? Really, Joana, dinnae ye think it’s time ta move on from tha’ nonsense?” His mother’s voice spoke up. Soap clenched his jaw, biting his tongue to try and stop himself from saying anything too harsh. These were his parents and he felt he owed them some sort of respect, no matter home agitating they were. “Yer team even know about this? Dinnae tell me they’re encoragin’ ye.” His father grumbles. Soap froze and his silence must be answer enough because his father continues. “Ye dinnae tell them,” His father states like he knows for sure, “Ye know why ye dinnae tell ‘em, Joana, because ye know it ain’t real. This bein’ a boy thing is jus’ somethin’ ye made up ta upset us and get under our skin. Well, it worked. Now ye can quit pretendin’, we’ve figured ye out. Ye ain’t foolin’ nobody, Joana, and I bet yer team would agree. An’ if they dinnae, then they’re just as foolish as y-.” “Dinnae talk abou’ meh fuckin’ team.” Soap snaps before he can think better of it.

The phone is silent on the other end before his mother’s voice crackles through. “Joana, enough is enough, lass. It’s time to stop this nonsense an’ come home. We let ye go off on yer own in hopes ye’d eventually come ta yer senses. Clearly tha’ ain’t happenin’, so ye need to come home so we can help ye.” She says with thinly veiled agitation. Soap felt his anger growing. “Come home?” He asks with a bitter laugh, “Ah left for a reason, Ma. Ye an’ Da never accepted me and ye treated me like garbage because of who Ah was. Ah didnae ‘decide’ ta become trans jus’ ta piss ya off. Ah’ve explained this to ye over and over again. This is who Ah am.” “Yeah, well, ‘who ye are’ has ruined this family.” Soap’s father cuts in gruffly. “Yer bein’ selfish, Joana.” His mother adds on bitterly.

Soap felt a mix of intense anger, guilt and hurt build inside him. He knows how much damage him coming out had caused to his family. His parents and siblings would constantly get into argument about his parents misgendering him. Once Soap had left home, his siblings were quick to go their own ways as well, essentially cutting off contact with their parents. To his surprise, his grandparents had also cut contact with his mother and father after they found out how unsupportive they were of their son. While he was glad to have the support of some of his family members, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for breaking his family apart.

Before Soap could come up with a response, his attention was drawn by the sound of the bar door opening and closing. He instinctively turned to look and tensed when he saw Ghost standing near the entrance, lighting up a cigarette. He was far away that he couldn’t here Soap, but the sergeant knew Ghost was watching him closely. “Ah got ta go.” Soap says flatly into the phone, hanging up before his parents could respond.

Soap pocketed his phone and took a deep breath to try and quell the emotions rising inside of him. After a moment, he stood straighter and put on a small smile before turning to make his way over ta Ghost. “Those things will kill ye, ye know.” He says lightheartedly as he goes to stand beside the lieutenant. He plucks the cigarette from between Ghost’s fingers and brings it up to his own lips to take a drag. “We all die one day, Johnny.” Ghost replies simply, his eyes searching Soap’s expression. “Who called?” He asks the sergeant. Soap shrugged his shoulders and waved a dismissive hand as he passed the cigarette back over to Ghost. “Auld friend, jus’ wanted ta catch up.” He lies easily. Ghost hums in acknowledgement, clearly not fully believing the sergeant, as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

The two stand in silence for a while, passing the cigarette between each other until it burns down. Ghost blows out a last plume of smoke before stamping out the cigarette bud and disposing of it. “Comin’ back in?” He questions as he pulls his balaclava back down over the bottom half of his face. Soap shook his head before replying, “Nah, Ah’m knackered. Imma head back ta base an’ call it a night.” Ghost paused, seemingly wanting to say something. However, after a moment, the lieutenant simply nodded. “Alright, I’ll let Price and Kyle know. Goodnight, Johnny.” He responds. A much more genuine smile forms on Soap’s face. “Night, Si.” The sergeant says, waiting for Ghost to go back inside before starting to make his own way back to base.

Chapter Text

Sleep didn’t come easy when Soap finally dragged himself back to base and into bed. The sergeant laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he replayed the conversation with his parents over and over in his head. It’s not like it’s the first time they had said things like that to him, but it still hurt. Stirring up old memories and emotions Soap had hoped to leave behind him. Bitterness began to build in his chest, leaving him even more tense and restless.

The night drags on and Soap is still awake by the time Gaz stumbles into their shared room. He lifts his head as his friend enters the room, his fellow sergeant trying- and failing- to be quiet. Soap’s anger quickly fades away into mild amusement as he hears Gaz let out a quiet curse when the Brit accidentally closes the door a bit harder than he had meant to. “Have a bit too much fun, Ky?” Soap teases, his voice startling Gaz slightly. “Tav? Why’re you awake? Thought ya were tired?” Gaz questions, his words slightly slurred as he stumbled over to Soap’s bed.

Soap rolls his eyes fondly, sitting up slightly and reaching out a hand to grab Gaz’s arm and steady him. “Ah was,” Soap replies as he helps his friend settle onto the bed next to him, “But, when I laid down, I couldnae fall asleep. Ye ken how it is.” Gaz simply hums in acknowledgement as he lays next to Soap and curls up next to his fellow sergeant’s side. Soap chuckles as he shifts to lean over the brit, drawing an annoyed huff from Gaz. “Hold on a mo’.” The scot says as he leans down to unlace Gaz’s boots, pulling them off and letting them fall carelessly onto the floor. Afterwards, Soap lays back down, wrapping his arms around Gaz before pulling the covers over them both.

There was no awkwardness as they laid together, the two sergeants having been in a similar position many times before. They spent most nights in the same bed despite having their own separate ones in the room. They found that the presence of someone familiar, someone they trusted, made it a lot easier to sleep and come down from the nightmares that, more often than not, plagued their dreams. A ‘tactical cuddle’ Gaz had called it when Ghost had found the two sergeant’s tangled up together on the couch in the team’s common room after a particularly hard mission. Soap had, of course, backed the other man up. Earning a look from the lieutenant that felt all too knowing. Like he could see something that Soap himself wasn’t even aware of yet. 

“G’night, Tav.” Gaz mumbles, his face buried in Soap’s chest. “Night, Ky.” Soap replies softly, holding Gaz just a bit tighter. The brit is out like a light within moments and Soap finds himself quickly drifting off to sleep as well.

The next morning, Soap is rudely awoken by his alarm. He and Gaz’s position had changed throughout the night. Now, they laid with Soap spooning the other sergeant, his arms wrapped around Gaz’s waist. Soap groans with annoyance, his arms tightening around Gaz as he buries his face in the man’s back, silently hoping his alarm would magically turn off by itself. “Tav, if you don’t turn that damn thing off I’m going to throw your phone across the room.” He hears Gaz grumble, his voice tired and raspy. Soap huffs and reluctantly untangles himself from Gaz, leaning over the brit to hit the dismiss button on his phone that lay on his nightstand. He feels Gaz relax the second the alarm turns off, the other man letting out a sigh of relief.

“How ye feeling?” Soap questions with a teasing tone and an all-too-knowing smirk on his face. “Ask me somethin’ stupid like that again and I’ll tell Price you’re the one that hid his cigars.” Gaz says flatly in reply, cracking an eye open to glare up at the scot who was still leaned half over him. Soap chuckles as he climbs out of bed, careful not to jostle his fellow sergeant too much. “Shouldnae have drank so much. Yer lucky we didnae have ta train any rookies today.” He replies, jokingly scolding the other man. Gaz huffs, giving Soap the middle finger before turning over and pulling the covers over his head.

Soap lets out another amused chuckle before walking over to the mini fridge in their room and grabbing a bottle of water out of it. “Here,” He says as he walks back over to his bed. Gaz groans as he pulls the covers back and forces himself to sit up. He takes the bottle of water from Soap’s hand as Soap opens the top drawer of his nightstand and grabs a bottle of ibuprofen, handing it to Gaz as well. He watches as Gaz takes two of the pills and downs half the bottle of water. “Yer gonna make yerself sick,” Soap huffs as he takes the bottle of ibuprofen back and puts it back in the drawer of his nightstand. As he does, Soap sees his phone light up with a notification.

The scot picks up his phone and unlocks it before going to his recent messages. Soap’s mood instantly sours when he sees a message from his father. Against his better judgement, he opens the message, his eyes scanning over the words.

“Don’t come crying to us when your teammates see through your little act and abandon you. We’re just trying to help you, but you’re obviously hellbent on making us the bad guys.”

Soap’s hand tightens around his phone as he clenches his jaw. “Tav? You alright, mate?” Gaz’s voice asks in an apprehensive tone. Soap looks over at his friend, seeing the concerned furrow of his brows as the brit glances between Soap’s face and the phone. Soap quickly forces a smile and turns off his phone, setting it back on the nightstand. “Aye. Right as rain. Cannae say the same for ye though.” He replies with a playful jab towards Gaz’s disheveled appearance. “Fuck off, ya twat.” The brit huffs lightheartedly, grabbing one of Soap’s pillows and chucking it at the other sergeant.

By the time Soap manages to drag Gaz out of bed and to the mess hall, breakfast is almost over. The dining area is mostly empty save for a few rookies who woke up late, and the familiar figures of Price and Ghost, who were sitting at the team’s usual table. The two sergeants quickly went and grabbed their trays, piling them with food. Soap makes himself a cup of coffee while Gaz grabs a bottle of water before they both make their way over to the table. Both Ghost and Price were nursing their own respective cups of tea, earning an eye roll from Soap. “Ye brits and yer tea.” The sergeant says playfully as he takes a seat next to Ghost, Gaz opting to take the spot next to Price.

Price lets out a small amused huff at Soap’s quip. “Bit of a late start to the day, sergeants.” Ghost speaks up pointedly as he takes a sip from his cup. To anyone else, it would seem like Ghost was about to scold them, but Soap could see the small upward tilt of the lieutenant's lips. “Isnae mah fault,” The scot complains as he starts to dig into his food, “ Someone didnae want ta get outta bed.” He shoots a pointedly look towards Gaz, earning a glare from the other man. Price rolled his eyes fondly at the two sergeant’s antics and the team soon found themselves falling into their familiar rhythm of banter and playful conversations.

About halfway through eating, Soap felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. The sergeant set the cup of coffee he was sipping from down and pulled his phone out. He unlocked it and saw he had gotten another message. Biting his bottom lip, Soap hesitated before opening it. It was from his mother this time. “Stop being selfish and talk to us. We’re your family.” It read. Soap didn’t bother dignifying it with a response as he shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket.

He looked back down at his half eaten tray of food, his appetite suddenly no longer present. Soap used his fork to push around the food on his plate with disinterest.

Was he being selfish? Sure, his parents weren’t exactly the best, but they were still his family. They at least seemed to be trying to make an effort to reconnect. Right? Why else would they call him after all these years?

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food, Johnny?”

Ghost’s voice suddenly cuts through Soap’s thoughts. Soap looks up to see his teammates looking at him with varying degrees of concern. The scot smiles as turns to look at Ghost. “Aye, Lt,” Soap replies jovially, “But Ah’ve never been very good wit’ manners.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Price comments as he takes a sip of his tea. The captain’s gaze remained locked on Soap however, his eyes critical as they roamed over the sergeant’s face. Soap rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand, “Ye ken ye love me,” He teases with a playful wink as he stands from the table.

Gaz looks up at Soap with a raised eyebrow. “Where are you going?” He questions the scot pointedly. Soap shrugs his shoulders as he picks up his tray of half-eaten food. “Ah got paperwork tha’ Ah need ta finish.” He replies nonchalantly as he goes to grab his empty mug. He stops short as Ghost reaches his hand out and places it on top of the mug to keep it in place. Soap huffs before turning to give the lieutenant an impatient look.

“It’s a rest day,” Ghost says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Aye, I ken, but ah need ta get it done while ah’m thinking about it or it willnae get done at all,” the sergeant argues. Ghost shows no indication of caring as he continues to give Soap the same flat look, his hand still gripping the mug. “Simon is right, Soap,” Price speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest. Soap turned to the captain with a look of slight disbelief. He can’t count the amount of time Price had gotten onto him for turning in reports late, and now the captain was telling him not to do them? Now that just didn’t make any sense in Soap’s mind. “But, Cap-,” He goes to argue, but snaps his mouth shut as Price shakes his head. “I’m not saying you can’t get any of it done. I know how you are, lad, and you're right. If you don’t get something done while you're thinking about it, it won’t get done,” Price continues.

A satisfied and triumphant grin forms on the sergeant’s face as he looks back at Ghost. His grin grows a bit as he sees the obvious displeasure in his body language, the lieutenant all but glaring at Price. Gaz clears his throat as he faces Price. “As much as I agree with you, Cap, I think Soap should take the day off with the rest of us. Whether he thinks he needs it or not,” He says, throwing a sharp pointed look at Soap as if daring the other sergeant to object. “I wasn’t finished speaking,” Price replies bluntly. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table and giving Soap a stern look.

“You have an hour, Sergeant. That should be enough time to get a bit of your paperwork done. After that, you are to report to the common room. Understood?” The captain orders. Soap’s expression turns serious as he quickly nods his head. “Aye, sir,” He acknowledges. Price nods his head before looking at Ghost and giving the lieutenant a pointed look. Soap watches as Ghost hesitates a moment, his hand tightening on the mug before he reluctantly lets it go. Soap smiles in delight as he plucks the mug off the table before walking away. He dumps his left over food before depositing his dirty dishes with the others. Afterwards, he turns to face his team. He's a bit caught off guard when he sees them all watching him closely, but quickly brushes it off and gives a playful salute and walks out of the mess hall.