Bandage Patched Floods

Paper Cuts…

. . . .

Soap's leg bounces anxiously as he pokes the scraps of food left on his plate, it was unusual. He wasn't the type to leave food on his plate, but the earlier events were still plaguing his mind. His stomach wouldn't stop flipping uncomfortably at the idea of Ghost hurting because of him, not to mention his abdomen was still sore from the punch, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. It didn't matter that he'd just met the man only five days ago, Soap hated being the cause of his friends' and comrades' pain. Rubbing at his forehead, he let out a tired sigh as he grasped his tray and stood up. Setting it on the pile of dirtied trays before sliding into the hallway, 'Should I check in with Price and see how Ghost is doing?' Soap worried his bottom lip between his teeth before shaking the thought from his head. Letting his mind conjure possible outcomes, fueled viciously by his worry. He ended up in his room, staring at his journal for the majority of the evening before Gaz came to get him for dinner.

'What should I say to him? Should I apologize? Would it be best to act like it never happened? Shit, what would make Ghost the least uncomfortable but still show that I'm sorry??' Soap pondered ideas while trying to keep up with Gaz in conversation, it went about as well as you'd expect…

"-ap... Soap... Soap." Gaz's voice eventually pulled Soap out of his thoughts, his eyes darting to Gaz.

"What?"

Gaz sighed, facepalming as he scrubbed at his face before looking at Soap with a serious and pensive expression. "Ghost is fine, Mate. Price is taking care of him, so quit worrying yourself unnecessarily, you'll pop a blood vessel."

Soap's eyebrows furrowed as he opened his mouth to argue only to be interrupted by Gaz.

"Nuh-uh! Not a word unless it's to agree with me because I am right and you know it." His tone was firm as he pointed a finger at Soap.

Soap slightly pouted for a moment before he sighed and gave a slow nod, he knew Gaz was right, he just couldn't help but feel guilty. If he hadn't been careless, hadn't gotten so excited in that moment and acted before thinking... He let out a heavier sigh as he crossed his arms on the table and buried his face in it. "What if he never talks tae me again? What if he hates me?"

Gaz's lips thinned as he stared at Soap's sulking form, "You're unnecessarily worrying again, Soap." he rubbed at his temple, working the wrinkle from it. "He's not going to stop talking to you, or hate you for giving him a hug. He seems like the type to beat himself up about it rather than take it out on you, he's probably thinking something like 'It's my weakness, my responsibility'." Gaz lowered his voice in a mock impression of Ghost.

Soap tried to stifle his smile and chuckle as he raised his head from his arms, failing as he fell into a fit of slightly somber laughter, shaking his head and giving Gaz a small smile. "That was a terrible impression, Gaz." He mused as Gaz returned a smile.

"I'd say it was bloody brilliant."

Soap rolled his eyes, amused, "Maybe, ye might 'ave a voice actin' career ahead of ye yet."

"Aye, I think I just might! Figure it pays better?" Gaz grinned as Soap huffed an amused breath.

"Prolly nae, might want tae start it as a side gig first tae gain a reputation."

Gaz hummed, considering. "Good idea, I should write this down. Do you give classes?"

Soap broke out into laughter, "Oh ye cheeky bastard, 's good advise!"

Gaz chuckled and shook his head, "Yeah yeah, I'll give referrals to you if anyone asks where I learned how to voice act."

Soap's jaw dropped, his expression mock offense as he gaped at Gaz. "Oi! Dinnae be tellin' people false information!"

"Is it false though?" Gaz grinned cheekily as he grabbed his empty tray and stood up, leaving the table.

"Oi! Dinnae walk off! Gaz! Gaz!" Soap quickly stood up with his own empty tray, following after the other, intending to settle the conversation. He grinned, his heart feeling a lot lighter from the lighthearted banter. Soap was determined to make sure things were right between him and Ghost....

. . . .

Rainbow Bandaids…

. . . .

Flooded…

Cold…

Ghost's half-lidded eyes were bleary as he stared, disoriented, at the dark bottom as pressure built in his ears. His lungs burned…bubbles floating up to the waters surface from his nose as he tried to breathe, regretting it immediately as water flooded his airways. He tried not to cough, to panic, unsuccessful, as his body reacted on its own. His mouth opened to cough only to be flooded by icy cold water, he thrashed against the leather straps holding his arms and legs. The hand holding his head down tightened its grip as his dull nails scraped the concrete beneath him, black spots filled his vision.

Before unconsciousness pulled him under, the hand holding his head tugged backward, pulling his head from the water-filled container. Ghost coughed and gasped breathlessly as bleary bright lights filled his vision, it felt like he was in a fever dream. Both his nose and throat burned, raw from the water that invaded them, the sensation made his eyes water. Ghost winced as he tried to wait out the burning in his nostrils. Roba's face entered his sight, a bored expression on his face. An echoing whistle pierced his ringing ears.

"Wow! I'm impressed, you lasted five minutes longer!" A sigh "You know what I want Ghost, why not just succumb already? Why are you so stubborn? I've tried my best to help you along, the daily audio treatments, the change of tone~ Yet you still bite at me." Roba frowned as his other hand grabbed Ghost's face, forcing direct eye contact. "Is it just your breed? Perhaps it runs in the family."

Ghost went cold, the mention of his family pulled at a vicious part of him. He sneered, attempting to focus his eyes enough to glare at the other. Roba smiled and hummed, "No, you're just that special. That's the only reason I'm being so patient. Because it would be a shame to lose a dog as skillful as you~ So if you need a week or a month more of training. Then I will train you diligently. As long as you learn to obey."

Roba didn't speak a word more before he shoved Ghost's head back under the water. The minutes passed by through Ghost's burning airways, he didn't last long. The limited oxygen he'd managed before the sudden dunk wasn't enough, this time though, his head wasn't pulled back after spots started to fill his vision. He felt his body start to go limp, tense muscles giving as Ghost's eyes fluttered closed, lungs finally starting to give up on removing the water.

He drifted off in the darkness for a while before he felt the sudden rush of liquid climb up his throat, his upper body lurched up as the water escaped. Lungs heaving as painful coughs clawed at his esophagus, breathless gasps making their homes in-between. Ghost barely managed to gather his breath before lips were pressing into his. Eyes flaring open, his mind didn't have time to register who the person was before he was thrashing. Teeth clamping down on the other's tongue as best as he could, trying to bite the damn thing off, only to have a hand pry open his jaw.

His eyes finally focused on the person's face, Roba. That damned— disgust and fiery rage had just started bubbling when Roba's face moved and another person rushed into view, Ghost had seen him a few times. A mercenary under Roba's pay, but the thing that drew his attention was the item in his hands. Ghost's eyes widened as he struggled harder, trying to force his jaw closed against Roba's fingers as the muzzle came closer.

The leather restraints dug unrelentingly into his sore wrists and ankles, twisting at the chafed skin. Ghost's vision frighteningly narrowed on the shining metal muzzle. 'No no no nonononononononononono—!!' Ghost froze when something wet dropped into his mouth, his eyes caught the disgusted look on the mercenary's face before they darted to Roba who stared at him with an angry yet smug and self-satisfied expression. Ghost's tongue twitched as he felt the slimy substance slowly slide down it, horror made an appearance as his brain finally registered what happened.

'What the fuck!? What the absolute fuck?!' Ghost's face twisted, the disgust was overwhelming, bile taunting his tongue.

He couldn't even spit it back out. He couldn't do anything as the muzzle filled his vision, his body finally woke up to make a last pointless attempt to struggle. Desperately trying not to swallow as the cold metal bar made its home between his teeth, Roba's hands retracted only to grip his hair. Helping to keep his head still as the Mercenary tightened the muzzle, the cold metal pressed snugly against Ghost's skin and made him sick. He felt entirely void of any emotion by the time his hair was finally released and the back of his head met the cold concrete. His ears wouldn't stop ringing as he watched Roba's mouth move blankly. Ghost shook, the pinpricked crawling of his skin accompanying the bone-chilling cold.

Ghost couldn't tell why he was shaking, he didn't feel anything, no clear emotion making itself known. So why was he shaking?… Oh…was he in shock? Was his brain overloaded with so many emotions that it just didn't process? Ghost's lungs constricted, mouth dry despite the previous water consumption. His eyes couldn't focus, and Roba's face was fuzzy as Ghost's mind tried to work out the wide-mouthed words. He only learned that the other was shouting at him, probably wanting some sort of reaction to his poisoned words.

He didn't have any…. His ears were unable to process anything but ringing, it was a mercy. Ghost didn't want to hear whatever the fucker had to say unless it was him begging for his life at the end of a gun or knife. But that was unrealistic, a pointless and naïve hopeful thought… He let unconsciousness pull at him, wishing for this hell to end, but knowing it wouldn't…

. . . .

Ghost gasped as he shot up, eyes darting around the room as his heart pounded in his ears. A shaky hand flew up to his mouth as a shuddering breath left it, relieved by the absence of the muzzle. Unfortunately, the relief was short-lived, quickly replaced by the burning sick that made its way up his throat.

"—st? Shit."

He heard rushed movements beside him when a trash can made its home in front of him, just in time as his head practically fell into it. His stomach wrenched out all of its contents, the sour taste and scraps of food that doused his tongue only made it worse. Ghost was suddenly thankful for his blank mind as he heaved into the can, it was a relief when the nausea finally passed. Although the sick still left its unpleasant aftertaste, he didn't let himself think about it.

Price pulled the trash can away, setting it down somewhere as Ghost wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. "Better?" Price asked. Ghost glanced at the older man, pulling his lips thin before nodding.

It wasn't entirely true, while Ghost didn't feel sick anymore, his body was still wound tight and tense. His eyes closed, head hanging as his hand slid up his face only for his fingers to catch on the mask, he grimaced but relaxed at the same time. Despite the bit of calm it brought Ghost, he reached up and tore it off. His hands replaced it as he slowly rubbed at his eyes, the haunting memories still hiding in the corner of his mind. Never far enough.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ghost was shaking his head before the question could even fully process in his mind, he didn't want to remember it. Although remembering it was considerably easier than talking about it, he didn't want to do either. Price understood, not fully, but he understood how difficult it is to talk about the things you go through. Especially in their field of work….

"Alright.... Can you tell me what happened with Soap earlier?" Ghost's hands fell as he glanced at Price.

His eyes fell back to his lap, mind helpfully bringing the memory to the forefront, goosebumps covered his arms at the uncomfortable feelings it brought with it. "…Firing." He paused at the uncomfortable flehm coating his throat, clearing it, he continued. "At the firing range…his form was off. I just gave him some pointers... Then he got excited…."

The rest was left unspoken, but the sad understanding grimace on Price's face was clear enough. Ghost dragged his left hand through his messy hair, staring down at the scars littering his right arm. He couldn't remember how he got half of them, maybe from the battlefield, maybe from Roba and Vernon….

"Dinner is ready, if you want me to grab you some. You should probably replace what you lost." Ghost grimaced at the thought, both of the trash can and of eating. But he knew Price was right, even if he didn't feel hungry, not eating anything would be worse.

Price didn't wait for a response, simply nodding to himself as he left. Ghost sat numbly for a few moments before he forced himself up, groaning as he stretched out his sore and tense muscles. He walked into the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. Turning the handle on the sink, he cupped his hands together, gathering some water to bring to his mouth, he sloshed it around a bit before spitting it into the sink. Repeating the process a few more times until the taste of vomit was barely noticeable, he finished washing his hands when a knock floated through his room.

The door slowly opened afterward so he figured it was Price. Pushing back from the sink, he turned his head, eyes widening as they met equally wide blue ones. He momentarily froze under the gaze, barely managing to turn his head away.

'Why is Soap here?! Why didn't he say anything?' Ghost's eyebrows knitted together as Soap finally broke the silence.

"Shit—I, sorry." Ghost could hear the wince in his voice. "This…wasnae exactly how ah planned tae apologize fer earlier…"

Ghost wanted to turn his head, to see the expressions on the other's face. But he couldn't, his face felt too exposed and his mask was across the room. The few seconds he had looked at Soap were already almost too much, the itch wouldn't leave his skin.

"Ghost? Uhm, s-should ah leave…?" The last part was too quiet to be meant as a question for Ghost, the unsure tone pulled at something in Ghost that made his face twitch. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his abdomen as his eyes searched the dark bathroom, landing on the gray towel. Turning towards it, he made a half step to grab it before tossing it over his head.

It was a bit inconvenient for trying to walk and not bump into anything, considering he could only see his own feet at most. But he made due, doing his best to avoid Soap as he took confident strides towards the direction of the bed, relief flooded him when his knee bumped the side of the mattress. He sat down on the edge, grabbing the mask as he turned his head towards the wall. Hoping Soap hadn't moved, he pulled off the towel and slid his mask back on.

Letting out a quiet breath of relief, he turned his head to look at the other. Elated that the man had not moved, he had only turned in his spot. Soap opened his mouth again and Ghost already knew the words he was going to spout, interrupting him.

"It's fine, you don't have to apologize. Getting excited isn't something to apologize for…" Ghost stood by his words, despite having to deal with the panic it caused. He wasn't going to blame someone else for his own weakness, no, he was the only one at fault.

"Naw, ah should nae have, even if ah had been excited. Ah ken better, so deh dae that. Ye should nae brush it off, especially when others mae continue tae dae it." Soap huffed, clearly upset as his Scottish accent grew thicker.

A smile tugged at Ghost's lips at Soap's words, had it been someone else, they would've been sent to medical. Which is what confused Ghost the most, why had he stopped at one punch and frozen when Soap hugged him? Was his natural response numbed by the happiness he'd felt while watching the other man's excitement? Now that he thinks about it, he had been happy…. When was the last time he'd felt that way? Ghost couldn't remember… Maybe when his brother finally got his life together? When he met his nephew…? He shook the painful memories from his head, standing up to walk over to Soap. Who took half a step back as he approached, Ghost only managed to get a few inches away before his skin started to crawl from the proximity. Soap looked up at him with wide eyes, his brows knitted.

Ghost's fingers twitched, suddenly feeling extremely sweaty, he took a slow breath and raised a hand. Watching as Soap's eyes followed the movement. Biting the inside of his lip, he tried not to think about it too much. Suppressing the jolt as his fingertips rested against Soap's chest, slowly, he took a step. Carefully adding pressure as Soap followed his guide backwards, he could feel the pounding heartbeat under the other's skin. It made Ghost's mouth dry, swallowing, he tried to keep his breaths even, movements a careful dance. He stopped walking, a small part of him didn't want to remove the contact, but he did so anyway. Sliding his hand into his pocket to hide the shaking, he silently hoped that his voice didn't sound as ruined as he felt.

"You should wait for a response before opening a door." He felt his face twitch, annoyed at himself for not saying something better. Although it was true. Surprise, confusion, and embarrassment all flashed across Soap's face as he gave an awkward lopsided smile.

"Sure thing, Lt." He chuckled, demeanor ten times brighter than it had been when he'd entered Ghost's room. "Ye gonna eat here or with us?" Blue eyes looked hopeful as they looked up through eyelashes.

Ghost wanted to decline, but Soap's expression was unrelenting. It made him feel uncomfortable at the thought of declining, sighing internally. He decidedly didn't answer Soap and instead slid past him, not in any rush as he kept a slow pace. Listening to the other's rushed footsteps as Soap caught up, walking beside him but keeping a healthy distance. It irked Ghost a bit, despite the unpleasantness of their previous proximity. He found himself wishing for it, a complex juxtaposition… Ghost took it upon himself to slightly close the distance.

He ignored the side-eye Soap kept giving him after he'd subtly closed the distance by at least half throughout the walk. Ghost decided to leave it at that, the crawling feeling had started creeping up on him and he didn't want to risk a repeat of earlier. He let the distance gain a bit as they neared the mess doors, waiting for Soap to walk through before following. Price must've spotted him first because when he found the man, his eyes were already on them. Surprise was evident, but a small smile was making an appearance under his mustache.

Soap took a seat at their table, sitting across from Gaz. Ghost followed, resisting the urge to sit on the opposite end. Instead, he purposefully ignored the mental count of inches and the amount of distance available. Simply sitting— his arm brushed Soap's —Ghost grit his teeth, trying his best not to jump as he slid over at least a little. Breathing felt particularly difficult, so he focused only on keeping his breath and heart rate even. It kept his mind distracted enough to drown out the crawling feeling that climbed up his spine. Maybe he was pushing himself a bit too much…. Small steps, this felt a lot more than small steps, he's fine.

He just has to keep himself calm, keep his mind distracted, and not become overwhelmed. Ghost focused on his— touch —breathing, he focused on Soap and Gaz's conversation. Not the occasional brush of soft skin against his arm as Soap gestured and buzzed in his seat. On the plate of food Price set in front of him, the tightness in his chest. Ghost didn't pay attention to the stares as he slid his thumb under his mask and held it just above his mouth. He didn't focus on the food he ate. He couldn't focus on anything but the heartbeat in his ears and the soft skin….

Ghost almost didn't realize his plate was empty as his surroundings came back to him, setting the fork down. He lowered his mask, standing up with his empty tray and leaving the table with a noncommittal grunt in response to whatever Price said, he only blinked and he was already back in his room. A shaky sigh pulled itself out of him, exhaustion making itself apparent. He didn't want to sleep though, memories creeping behind his eyelids. There wouldn't be any good dreams waiting for him, there never were…. He didn't have any that weren't tainted by his life. So he picked up a book first, sitting back on his bed as he tried to read through it. He hadn't even made it two pages before he was growing antsy, feeling the need to get up and do something, to be productive. Standing, he set the book on his desk before slowly dropping to the floor, pushing himself up and lowering himself. He continued the push-ups, settling into his routine exercise.

Ghost focused on counting, not letting his mind wander for too long. He did exactly one hundred before repeating it with sit-ups, he went through the simple ones. Working up a slight sweat before his room started to feel too small, his legs were moving through his door and down the hall in the next second. His eyes focused solely in front of him as he made a few turns before entering the gym, his mind peacefully silent, focused only on the activity and his breathing.

It was relaxing and methodical, his natural routine when he needed a good reset. It typically worked, today was no different. Though he felt a bit regretful that he hadn't grabbed some water, his muscles worked as he gripped the bar above his head. Lifting himself, his legs crossed as they left the ground. The bar pressed against the underside of his pecs for a moment before he lowered himself and repeated the process. Taking measured breaths, he pulled himself up, removing his right hand from the bar to grab it from the other side.

He removed his left hand and crossed it behind his back, lowering himself once more, and then pulling himself back up. The bar sat just below his chin as he repeated the process. With every flex of his muscles, his mind was pulled back to the field, to shouts and gunfire, fallen soldiers and smoke from grenades. He blinked away the picture, the ghosts of familiar faces. A shiver ran up his spine when he registered the eyes for the first time, when did they show up? Ghost turned his head to look over his shoulder, eyes landing on the familiar Scotsman.

'Did he come to work out as well? Why does it seem like we keep running into each other? Well, the gym and fire range are the only places for activities. Other than the running track.' Turning his head to look forward, he finished his exercise, legs uncrossing as he let go of the bar. Landing light on his feet, he turned towards Soap. Ghost had worked up a decent sweat, breathing a bit quicker than it was when he started, his eyes caught on the two bottles of water in the other's hands, an eyebrow raising as he looked at Soap's face.

The sergeant smiled, making his way over, his eyes notably looking at the distance between them before stopping at an experimental distance. Just far enough that he couldn't hand the water over without leaning forward. Ghost felt a warmth fill him at the attempt, doing his best to smother the smile as he took a few steps closer. Right on the edge of his tolerable distance, okay, so he was still pushing it. But it still counts as taking small steps, right? Whatever, as long as he doesn't panic, a bit of added sweating and crawling skin as his breath strained just slightly more wasn't a big deal.

Yes, he was downplaying it, of course he was, but the crawling wasn't an entirely bad feeling. It was also craving, it made Ghost want to reach out yet pull away. Which was incredibly stressful and frustrating, how the hell was he supposed to work out these mixed signals and feelings? Where were the lines for each? He doesn't know, and he's too afraid to fully test the limits. 'Small steps.' He reminded himself.

Ghost stared down at Soap, waiting for the other to speak first. He hoped the other would because he was entirely out of conversation starters. Thankfully, Soap didn't leave it up to him.

"I saw ye when ah was passin' by so I brought a water, figured ye prolly dinnae have one." Soap held out the bottle by the cap, Ghost nodded, grabbing it.

"Thanks…" He twisted off the cap, pulling the damp cloth of his mask above his mouth. Leaving enough space from the bottle neck and his lips so he could efficiently chug it, his eyes slid to look at Soap from behind the bottle as he did so. Raising an eyebrow at the slight reddish flush covering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Pulling the half-empty bottle back, his tongue slid over his chapped lips. Ghost's eyes narrowed, watching as Soap's eyes follow the motion, flush becoming brighter.

Ghost looked away, pulling his mask down as he slid the lid back on the water. 'What's that about? Hopefully, Soap isn't getting sick.' He hummed to himself, handing the water back. "Did you come to just give me water?" He pointedly looked at the other unopened water.

"Eh?" An awkward smile made its way onto Soap's face. "Naw, ah saw ye and figured It would nae hurt tae join. There's nae a lot tae do without any missions." Soap seemed a bit spaced out.

'Is he still stressed about earlier? No, we talked about it, and he was relaxed after he said his apology. Maybe he's getting cooped up at base? That happens a lot, and Soap seems to have a lot of energy.'

Ghost hummed, "Yeah…"

Soap brightened, his smile coming out in full force. "Spot fer me, Lt?" Raising an eyebrow, Ghost choked down the chuckle and nodded, just barely allowing the small smile. Maybe this wasn't so bad…

Maybe…

He could…? Enjoy this…? …

You'll hurt him. Ghost clenched his jaw at the unwelcome thought, but he couldn't deny the very real possibility…. For once, he brushed the thought away, stupid but he did so regardless… He couldn't avoid spending time or working with Soap, so he'd at least watch out for him. Keep a distance, save him from joining the rest….

. . . .

Hearts…