Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Six months into deployment, Captain Price alerted the team that upper brass decided to change course and send them home two months early. The energy on base was high as the soldiers slowly trickled out, until all that was left was the skeleton crew. Price and Ghost planned on staying behind a few extra days, tidying up loose ends, finalizing reports and signatures, all the last tedious details that come with being an officer. They had spent the first part of the week with Soap and Gaz before the sergeants went home. Gaz’s parents were over the moon when they heard the news, and they scheduled a last minute holiday for him and his siblings. He flew out to Paris on Monday. 

Soap waited until the Tuesday transport to Glasgow. The extra time spent together, completely off duty and without the stressful anticipation of another mission, left Ghost feeling more content than usual about going on leave. He had Soap talking his ear off about wanting to surprise his family with his early homecoming. Ghost was subjected to watching several compilation videos of surprise military homecomings because Soap wanted to surprise his wife and parents like that. He had asked Ghost if it were possible to ensure that his family didn’t get a notification he was coming home, and the smile on his face was enough to temper the slight jealousy bubbling in his chest at Soap’s family getting to spend leave with him. He quickly smashed those feelings down as he promised Soap he’d help him with his surprise. With a final hug goodbye, which Ghost may have extended a couple seconds longer than necessary, they went their separate ways for the foreseeable future. 

It’s Wednesday evening. Price and Ghost have finally finished with all the paperwork, and they decide to end the night with a drink in Price’s office. The exhaustion of the week finally caught up to them, and the two sag into their seats after clinking glasses. Ghost takes a long sip before tilting his head back with a sigh. Just as the two settle into a comfortable silence, a soft knock at the door has them perking up. The door opens at Price’s request, and Soap shoulders through the doorway with a heavy duffle in each hand and a solemn expression across his face. He leans on one foot to use the other to shut the door and places the bags in front. Ghost notices the hard set of his jaw and furrowed brow as he turns to face his superiors. He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Ghost’s curiosity at Soap’s reappearance turns to concern when he stands at attention and stares at the wall behind their heads.

“MacTavish?” Price questions when Soap doesn’t speak. 

Soap shifts minutely, his eye twitching before finally looking at Price. “I’ve had a…” he pauses, shifting his gaze away from him and clearing his throat. “There’s been a change of circumstances. I need permission to be back at base. Or sent on another mission.” Another pause. “Something.”

The small quiver in Soap’s voice has Ghost standing up. “Johnny, what happened?” As Ghost places his hands on Soap’s shoulders, the rigidity leaves his body all at once. He sags into Ghost’s hold and when he meets his eyes, Ghost’s heart drops to his stomach at Soap’s glassy expression. He hears Price’s chair creak as he moves to stand next to him, but Ghost keeps his focus on his sergeant. “Johnny,” he repeats softly.

They stare at each other for a beat, then Soap directs his attention to Price. “Sir, I need a meeting with legal services.”

Ghost and Price look at each other in confusion. As Price begins to question, Soap cuts him off. “And I believe I need a full work up with medical. Blood, urine, all that.”

The three men stand in silence, Ghost and Price looking to each other and back to Soap multiple times while Soap keeps his once again hardened gaze on Price. Sensing that this is all the information he’s going to get presently, Price slowly nods and returns to his desk to retrieve his phone. As he sifts through the papers on his desk presumably for the necessary contact information, Ghost keeps his attention firmly on Soap. The stiff demeanor slowly returns, but Ghost can sense the cracks in his facade. 

“Can I go back to my room, sir?” Soap whispers.

Ghost exhales harshly at his sergeant’s defeated tone, shaking his head as he digs in his pant pocket. “Afraid not. They already cleared out your block,” he murmurs as he taps Soap’s whiteknuckled fist to open and places his own key in his hand. “Let me talk to Price. I’ll come find you.”

Soap’s lip quivers again as he closes his hand around the key and nods. As he goes to retrieve his bags, he whispers a near silent thanks and slips out the door. Price and Ghost stare after him, turning to each other in complete shock. Price opens his mouth before snapping it shut immediately, words escaping him in this odd situation. He scribbles a few things before ripping the sheet from the notepad and handing it to Ghost. “We were sent home because there’s nothing for us right now. I can’t send him anywhere, and moreso, I don’t want to given his state.” Ghost nods in agreement. “Go figure out what you can, and I’ll make sure those appointments he wants are expedited.”

Ghost leaves Price’s office, figuring he’ll catch up to Soap on the way to his room. As he winds through the empty halls of the base, he doesn’t catch a glimpse of him. All the way to his door, he half assumes Soap must have taken a detour, but the door is unlocked when he grasps the handle. The lights are off, but the small nightlight from the bathroom illuminates the room enough for him to see Soap’s bags tossed to the side, and the man himself perched on the edge of Ghost’s bed breathing heavily. Soap must have practically sprinted across base to get here. Ghost shuts the door behind him and reaches for the lamp on the desk. Soap doesn’t hide his face when the soft lamp light reveals the unbridled tears streaming down his cheeks. Ghost squats in front of him, now fully alarmed at what could have possibly happened when Soap went home.  

Soap huffs a mirthless laugh when Ghost taps his chin to look at him. “Christ, I feel like such a fucking idiot,” he sighs as he aggressively wipes at the tears. 

Ghost furrows his brow, but stays silent. 

“Sarah’s cheating on me. Not just a one time thing,” he takes a shuddering breath. “A whole bloody affair.”

The air leaves Ghost’s lungs as he moves to pull his desk chair up to the bed. Eye to eye, Ghost can see the utter heartbreak in Soap’s eyes, but also the simmering rage coming to the surface as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

“He was practically living in my house, Simon. His shit, his shoes–his fucking car was in my garage!” he spits as he grabs Ghost’s pillow and chucks it at the opposite wall. His chest heaves as his anger increases, and Ghost continues to watch quietly as he allows Soap to grieve. Because that’s what this is. Grieving his relationship, his life as he knows it, and the trust he has in other people. Ghost’s own heart hurts watching Soap’s break.

“She lied to my mum. My fucking mother! After everything she’s done for her–” Soap’s outburst is interrupted by a loud buzzing from one of his bags. When he makes no move to retrieve it, Ghost stands to dig the phone out of the side pocket. Seeing Sarah’s face on the screen, he ends the call before thinking better of it. Numerous texts and missed calls fill the notification center.

“She hasn’t let up since I left the house,” Soap sighs as he stands to take the phone. A quick scroll through and he tosses the phone back in the bag. Another shuddering breath leaves Soap as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “There’s nothing she can say to fix this. I’m done.”

“Price said he’ll help you with the appointments. You probably could go to medical now, if you want,” Ghost says softly, handing him the paper with the contact information. Soap all but rips the paper from him, turning to pace in the small space.

“I am a good husband,” Soap sneers. “Loved her, took care of her as I should. Never asked for a hall pass like I know the others do because we’re gone for so long. Even when there was temptation, I didn’t act on it.” Soap stops moving as their gazes lock. “Even when I wanted to so badly.”

A shudder runs through Ghost’s body as his memory transports him. Yes, it was a running joke about their flirty banter over comms and the poorly hidden fact that Ghost plays favorites, but this is something they refused to talk about.

There was a moment, maybe almost a year ago now. In a safehouse in the bitter cold close to the Arctic Circle, they had lost contact with the team for several hours. The fire was just enough to keep feeling in their fingers, but Ghost had a pit of dread in his stomach. A storm was set to snow them in, and exfil was scheduled hours ago. Ghost feared their meager supplies wouldn’t hold. The only sustenance in the cabin were old canned beans and an unopened bottle of vodka. 

They were tired and cold. Sharing the bottle couldn’t hurt at that point. A quarter of the bottle later, they were still tired, still cold, and now buzzed. Their bodies drifted closer with each shot. Soap’s hand rested too high on Ghost’s thigh, Ghost’s gaze settling too long on Soap’s lips. It felt like he was in a daze, the climax of the “will they, won’t they” game nearing the peak. Despite the cold, he could feel himself hardening with every gentle sweep of Soap’s fingers, and he knew Soap wasn’t unaffected either. When they finally met each other’s eyes, reality pushed through the syrupy moment and they shifted back to their respective sides of the couch. The permanent line in the sand that they’d never cross, for Soap took his vows to heart, and Ghost respected him too much to ever purposely test that resolve. He was prepared to go to the grave with his feelings. He’d sacrifice his own happiness to keep what he could with his sergeant. 

The thing he admired most about him was the reason he couldn’t do it. Soap was loyal to a fault. And now she’s taken that for granted. Chewed it up, spit it out, and ground her heel in it for good measure. Ghost prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that he never sees the traitorous bitch again.

Ghost holds Soap’s gaze as he shifts closer into his personal space. It’s wrong, with him so emotionally vulnerable, but Sarah fucked him up, so Ghost is going to fix it. “You’re a loyal man, Johnny.”

Soap’s laugh is hollow and dark. “Yeah? Well, loyalty keeps biting me in the ass.” Graves, Shepherd, now his own wife. “You think I’m a fool, sir? That I haven’t learned?”

Desire seeds itself deep in Ghost’s chest, a need to prove to Soap that his loyalty is valuable. Precious. That he won’t ever get complacent about the trust he puts into him. “Let me help you. Whatever you need. The divorce, beneficiary paper work, hell, I’ll catch the next train to Glasgow to personally throw them out of your house. Just say the word.”

Something crackles in Soap’s eyes. The anger is still there, but something darker, hotter reflects back at him that has Ghost’s hair standing on end. “I took what I needed from that house. I even snatched the wedding ring right off her finger.” They’re in each other’s space, breathing the same hot air with less than a hair width between them. “Everything I value is right here in this room, sir.” 

Soap pushes his chest against Ghost's, and that's confirmation enough. The roadblock, the thorn in his side, the big fucking sign that said “do not enter” is gone, and Ghost is taking it. He isn’t going back. 

“Get that fucking blood test, Johnny,” Ghost practically growls, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the hair at Soap’s nape. “I’ll show you what true loyalty looks like.”

Chapter Text

Soap went to medical that night. He answered the nurse’s questions curtly, his usual politeness seemingly alluding him. He kept his eyes cast to the floor. Ghost stood post at the door, Soap asking him to stay when the nurse asked for privacy. Multiple vials of blood, a swab of his mouth and throat, and a trip to the bathroom for the urine sample later, they silently trekked back to Ghost’s quarters. Soap hadn’t said a word since his last interaction with the med staff, and Ghost could sense the last dredges of energy sapping from the sergeant as they entered the room.

Soap didn’t move further into the room when Ghost closed the door, staring at his bags in the corner and repetitively flexing and relaxing his fists. Ghost took that as his cue to take control of the situation, grabbing towels and digging through his drawers for extra clothes. He gently guided him into the bathroom and turned the water on hot. “C’mon, Johnny, how about we get cleaned up and get some sleep, yeah?”

Soap nodded blankly, finally shifting his eyes up to make eye contact. They were the emptiest Ghost had ever seen. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it as he listened for the slide of the shower door. Soft sobs broke through the noise of the water, and Ghost left to give him privacy, going back across base to bring Price up to speed. 

Soap showered and changed, then promptly crawled into Ghost’s bed and passed out. Ghost returned shortly after. He watched the tension leave Soap’s sleeping body as he relaxed into the pillows, and he turned to quietly pack the rest of his room for departure. In the bathroom, Ghost half snorted at the almost empty shampoo and body wash containers, Soap using the rest of it in his 30 minute shower. Collecting the last of his toiletries, he zipped his bag, leaving his toothbrush and razor out for the morning, and went to climb into bed. Soap pressed himself against the wall, leaving enough space for Ghost to lay on his back comfortably. They’d shared a bed enough times on missions to have their mattress sharing situation down to a science. Matching his breathing to his sergeant, he fell asleep with plans on how to fix this running through his mind. 

Now, the car is silent as they make their way to Ghost’s house. Price had arranged for Soap to meet with an army attorney first thing before they left, in which she assured Soap that she’d expedite the paper work and have it ready for him in about a week. He changed his emergency contact information, beneficiary and next of kin, and left the office with a solemn handshake and stilted but heartfelt thank you.

As Soap stares out the window, the silence gives Ghost ample time to think. He knows he was too forward the other night. The adrenaline rush fueled both of their actions and confessions, and given some time to cool, he knows they can’t just jump into something like that. The moment between them was fueled by lust and longing desire, but that’s not what Ghost wants. Soap’s admittance of struggling with feelings toward him proved that Ghost may have a real chance, but he jumped without finesse. Ghost doesn’t want a fling, something so insignificant as just a physical dalliance. Their lives and careers are too intertwined to jeopardize everything if they fall into this without thinking. He doesn’t want to be a rebound, used as a distraction while Soap heals from this heartbreak. 

That would just lead to a heartbreak of his own. 

Ghost slows as he turns the car into a driveway, and cutting the ignition seems to break Soap from his silent trance. Looking out the window at the house, Soap lets out a slow whistle as he takes in the brick exterior and manicured landscaping. “Wow, Lt. Can’t say I expected this.”

Ghost chuckles as he gets out of the car. “What did you picture? A cave, maybe a haunted house?”

“Matches the mask, doesn’t it?” Soap grins, and relief floods Ghost’s system at the first smile he’s seen since Soap’s return. 

They make quick work of opening the windows, removing the furniture’s dust covers, and rebooting the water heater. Ghost digs through the hall closet for two sets of sheets, and carries his and Soap’s bags to the mud room to start a load of laundry. He takes off his balaclava and throws it in the wash without thinking much of it. When they meet back in the kitchen, Soap blinks at Ghost’s bare face before a small smile graces his face. The two of them fall into a slightly awkward silence as they both debate how to proceed. 

“We need to go to the shops if we want to eat tonight,” Ghost starts, motioning to the unplugged refrigerator. “Or just order takeaway if you’re not feeling up to it.”

Soap shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “Reckon that Thai place we passed is any good?”

With full bellies and a bottle of whisky calling their names, they settle comfortably on the couch with a random police drama on the television. They hadn’t had a significant conversation all day, and while Ghost is itching to know details, he doesn’t want to pry. 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to. With a long drag from his cup, Soap leans his head back on the cushion and spills. “As soon as I got on the train, I called my cousin Callum. Told him what was happening and if he could make sure my parents and sisters were at home. But not to tell Sarah.” He pauses and takes another sip. “I wanted her surprise to just be by herself.

“But let me show you my family! Worked exactly as I pictured.” Soap excitedly grabs his phone and loads the video before settling closer so they can both watch. From the angle of the video, he can see Soap’s mom and dad at the kitchen table, sisters behind them like they’re posing for a photo. The front door then opened behind them, Soap slowly moving behind his sisters to join the picture. He put his arm around his youngest sister, then she turned her head and let out a screech. There’s a moment of confusion, before they all realized he’s home, and the video ends after they all tearfully tackle him into a group hug. Soap stares at the screen as it freezes on an image of them all hugging with joyful expressions before turning it off. 

“Even better than the videos you showed me, Johnny.” The love his family surrounds him with would once have made Ghost jealous, but he can’t be mad at all these people standing in Soap’s corner, especially now. 

Soap’s eyes started misting as the video played, and he wipes them almost viciously as he refills his glass. “If I had gotten her at my parents’ house, I don’t even know if I would have found out.” He takes a big gulp. “Callum also got about a 45 second clip of us walking into my house, but it’s mostly yelling, some crashing as mum and Calleigh started throwing things at the chap,” Soap chuckles at the memory. "It was almost like the scene of a bad movie. Husband walks in to his wife in bed with another man. Except we also had an audience. Oh, my poor mother saw them both naked."

He then sighs sadly and rubs his face again. “That’s how I was able to get back to base so quickly. They helped me ransack the place for everything I needed and drove me back to the station, no questions asked. I made Calleigh and Fiona promise me they wouldn’t beat Sarah to a pulp when I left, but I know mum slapped her when she tried to stop her from going through my jewelry case.” 

They sit silently, mulling over the events that led them here. Ghost knows Soap has a wonderful support system, which begs the question: “Johnny, why aren’t you at home with your mum and dad?” 

Soap shifts in his seat uncomfortably and moves his glass between his hands. “I don’t know, sir, I suppose I am…ashamed. It’s not just that Sarah did that to me, but she hurt my family. I brought her into my parents’ home, and it’s like I’m ripping a daughter away from them with all of this.” He exhales from seemingly the depths of his heart before taking the rest of his drink in one swallow. “Maybe my ego’s a bit bruised. She stepped out on me for a reason, eh? Maybe I couldn’t satisfy her emotionally, physically…not something a man wants to hear.” He looks at Ghost with a sad smile and shrugs.

Ghost chews his lip as he forms a response. “She broke your family’s trust. It’s hard to come back from that, and cutting her out hurts, but you’re not the one ruining your family. She did that with the very first lie.”

Soap’s smile quivers as Ghost’s hand rests on his shoulder. With the rare absence of the mask, Soap traces Ghost’s features before settling back on his eyes. “Is Price going to send me to talk to someone?” 

“Drastic life events or changes usually warrant a conversation, yes. Could be with him, could be with a shrink,” Ghost says carefully.

“What, you all think I’m going to off myself?” Soap huffs, affronted.

Ghost keeps his voice level. “Just to check that you’re not going to do anything drastic. Empty your savings, disappear to another country…and yes, so you don’t off yourself.”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Soap snorts dramatically. “Can’t give them the satisfaction.”

Ghost narrows his eyes. “Just need to make sure you’re still taking care of yourself and fit for duty.” 

“Well we’re not on duty, are we? I think I could let myself go a bit without it being a cause for concern.” Soap’s eyes flash a bit as he waves his hand between them.

“Relax, Johnny,” Ghost squeezes his shoulder, trying to quell Soap’s rising agitation. “If you don’t want to shave for a few days or skip a morning run, I’m not going to write you up for it.” 

Soap sighs as he leans further into the couch, the fight in him once again drained. “I never shave when I’m home. It’s a hassle, and Sarah always liked me a bit scruffy,” he says with a shrug.

“Hm,” Ghost responds almost absentmindedly. “Even let the ‘hawk grow?” 

Soap snorts. “Especially the ‘hawk. Said it looked silly and she didn’t like the feeling of the buzzed sides.” 

Ghost considers him for a moment before slowly reaching to brush his fingers through the short hairs right above his ears, tracing down where his side burn connects to his growing beard. “Can’t say the beard is a bad look,” he says, running his hand back into the sides of his hawk. “But I do have a pair of clippers you’re more than welcome to use when you need a clean up.” 

Soap huffs a small laugh. “Didn’t know you liked it that much, sir. I’m surprised you haven’t been hiding one just like it this whole time.” Soap reaches out to touch Ghost’s hair for a moment before dropping his arm to rest between them.

Ghost can see the goosebumps on Soap’s arms as he continues touching him. This might be the longest contact Ghost has ever initiated. He never liked when others touched him, but after that pivotal moment when Soap knocked his shoulder on the tarmac all those years ago, a quiet voice in the back of his mind started screaming for more.

He should continue ignoring that voice, for now at least. 

Soap doesn’t move as Ghost’s fingers caress his face, but his eyes droop minutely as he continues. “Thank you for letting me stay, Simon. I don’t want to go home just yet.”

Ghost merely hums as he continues lulling Soap to sleep. “Whatever you need. I mean that.”

Soap’s sleepy smile has something pulling tight in Ghost’s chest. “Even when everyone has let me down, I know you’ll always be there.”

Ghost pulls the blanket off the back of the couch to cover him as he dozes off. Slowly rearranging Soap against the pillows without disturbing him, Ghost gets up and quietly cleans up from their dinner. He locks up, shuts off the lights, and as he turns back toward the couch, he takes a moment to just watch him sleep. His slack face and deep breathing loosen the knot of worry in Ghost’s chest. Soap’s going to be fine, and he’s going to make sure that Soap's trust in him remains well deserved.