Snatch Away My Nightmares Oh Dreamcatcher

Freckle-dusted cheeks…

. . . .

Dark eyes filled Soap's mind, the familiar face black surrounding them, spilling and smudging slightly onto his cheeks. The few visible scars, his blond hair. The picture held him captive despite most details being hidden by the dark. Soap hadn't meant to see Ghost's face, the most he expected when he entered the room was Price sitting at Ghost's bedside. Not the latter standing maskless in his bathroom, at least the other didn't seem mad about it. He just seemed uncomfortable, that's the other thing, Ghost's face had been expressive under the mask. Maybe the mask is just so tight that it hinders most expressions?

Soap would have to ask, wait, would that be insensitive if Ghost just has a naturally expressionless face most of the time? Groaning internally, his mind detoured, pen dragging across the page of his journal for the hundredth time. It still confused him when Ghost touched him. The other was obviously overburdened by conflict if the faraway look in his eyes during the entire fifteen minutes he had spent eating last night was anything to go by.

Soap wanted to help resolve whatever conflict was plaguing his Lieutenant's mind, but he didn't know how. Soap knows that the problem is touch, although Ghost had consciously initiated it himself, it's clearly uncomfortable for him regardless. He just didn't know how to solve a problem, when the problem was the very thing he uses to solve problems. Soap gnawed at his bottom lip, eyes roaming over the sketch. Brows knitting as he grumbled in dissatisfaction, too many details were still missing, the image in Soap's mind was clear even with the lack of lighting, but trying to look at any smaller details came out blurry. He'd been struggling to recreate the image on paper for the last few days, still unsuccessful. Soap's head fell back against the wall, frustration seeping from him. Soap was determined, he just needed to find a way to metaphorically and literally get closer to Ghost…

Easier said than done, considering he hadn't seen the other much since the time in the gym…. Soap had heard plenty of stories about Ghost before he joined the 141. Though he didn't believe them much, 'course he wasn't going to believe a rumor that the man was a literal corporeal ghost. But he also didn't disregard them, considering half of them—while shocking—sounded possible enough. Soap has discovered rather quickly, that they weren't entirely rumors, Ghost was quiet when doing anything. He genuinely seemed like a ghost half the time, disappearing and reappearing without a sound.

There was definitely some supernatural aspect in effect, Soap refuses to believe Ghost could be that quiet naturally with his stature. If only because he felt more than a little jealous. Chuckling, Soap lifted his head off the wall, looking down at the journal in his lap. Readjusting the pen in his grip, he gripped the book with his unoccupied hand. Drawing a little doodle of a skull, turning the book sideways to write what came to mind.

"Ghost, the corporeal type. What does a ghost think about?" Soap drew a thought bubble off of the doodle, sketching a tiny question mark followed by a bar of soap. Smiling to himself, he turned the book to sit straight, biting his lip as he took in the unfinished portrait once more. Soap's smile broke into a grin as he started sketching out a Hello Kitty bandaid on Ghost's cheek. Moving to write under the portrait. "Ghost, an avid enjoyer of decal band-aids."

'Should I buy some and see if he does? Might come in handy in general.' Soap nodded to himself, slightly jumping at the sudden knock on his door that dragged him out of his thoughts. He hurt his hand with how quickly he slammed his journal closed.

"Soap, it's Ghost. Price called for a briefing of our first mission." Shoving the book and pen under his pillow, Soap jumped up, rushing to the door and swinging it open. Catching the subtle widening of Ghost's eyes, he smiled.

"Well? Let's go Lt!" Soap carefully slid past the larger man, settling into a quick pace at first, but stopped when he realized Ghost wasn't following him. Turning, he saw the other shake his head before striding over, Soap smiled "What? Yer nae excited? It's our first mission together!"

Ghost peered down at him as they walked, eyes void of whatever emotions lay beneath. "You don't even know what the mission is, we could be sitting somewhere for hours watching someplace."

Soap's smile down-turned at the thought, playing watchdog was his least favorite type of mission, standing, sitting, or laying still was torture to him. Shaking his head, the smile returned as Soap playfully elbowed the air between them. "Naw, ah bet ye it's some stealth infiltration."

…

…

…

Soap ate his words, purposefully ignoring Ghost's gaze the entire way until they were sitting on some rooftop playing watchdog and Ghost opened his god damn mouth.

"What did you say earlier? Something about a bet and the mission being a stealth infiltration?" The bastard, Soap could hear the stupid smile and amusement in his voice.

"Oh haud yer weesht ye fuck'n bawbag, dinnae rub it in." Grumbling quietly, he sat crossed-armed against the concrete half wall, pouting.

"English, MacTavish." Ghost sounded way too amused with himself, Soap didn't think he minded it.

Rolling his eyes, "Sorry ser, go fuck yerself."

"That's not it." Soap's eyes widened at the response, Ghost must've read his mind because he shook his head. "Too many words just for you to tell me to go fuck myself, and bawbag isn't as difficult to understand as you seem to think…."

"Wow, ah'm surprised ye can say that much, Lt." Soap said with a fake tone of astonishment as he chuckled while Ghost shook his head, Soap scooted over towards Ghost just enough so he could lightly hit the Lieutenant's boot with his, the other pulled away from looking through his scope to glance over.

Watching the Sergeant childishly kick at his foot, a chuckle built up in Ghost's chest, creating a lump in his throat that he struggled to swallow it down, he returned his attention to look through the scope, but responded with a light tap of his own. Thoroughly enjoying the stifled giggles he received in response. Ghost shook his head, "You're a child, who the bloody hell let you into the military?"

"Oi! Ah'll have ye know I scored only seconds behind Gaz in the selection!" It was silent for a few moments, the only thing filling it was the whispering wind.

"…Toddler." Soap audibly gaped behind Ghost at the insult.

"Why did I downgrade?? How did I downgrade? A child counts as a toddler, it's jus' a generalized word!" Soap froze as quiet chuckles drifted from Ghost's position, the man's shoulders were making slight movements with the sound. It caught Soap entirely off guard, but it was the nicest sound Soap had ever heard, warm and entirely coated in his accent. Soap wanted to hear more of it, wanted it to continue filling him with an endlessly enjoyable warmth, he wanted it to be his purpose and the reason his face split and hurt with smiles.

The quiet wind filled the comfortable silence once more, making Soap feel a bit regretful that he couldn't record Ghost's laugh. Dangerous, the sound felt addicting, like he would never be able to get enough even if it was replayed endlessly. He had another goal now, to make Ghost laugh. Perhaps playing watchdog this time won't be so boring. Soap kicked the other's boot once more for good measure, earning a scoff in return.

. . . .

Ghost angles his gun as he scopes out the building for the thousandth time, the building and surrounding area had been quiet for the past six hours yet Ghost couldn't help but feel anxious. Price had checked in three times during the passing hours, agreeing that this mission would probably take a few days longer than planned. It was a good thing they'd packed extra rations. Soap had settled down to sleep four hours ago after they agreed to take shifts, Ghost insisted on going first, specifically because he doubted he would be able to fall asleep in the first place. Every time he blinked he saw red concrete and metal, adjusting the grip on his rifle, Ghost listened to the quiet stress of his gloves with the tightening grip.

Ghost's legs were starting to fall asleep and the small of his back was fussing loudly, joined by his tense shoulders and sore arms. Holding one position for so long wasn't unfamiliar to Ghost, he'd gone on plenty of missions where it was required. Not to mention… He cut the thought off, jaw clenching as he rolled his shoulders back. It was nothing new, but he would never get completely used to it. Gritting out a quiet groan as he finally sat up, his back audibly cracked with his stretching. Legs feeling like static as they unwillingly woke up, Ghost looked over at Soap before standing to a crouch.

Walking over to the other, he knelt beside Soap, it was slightly easier to breathe with the layers of clothing and gear, but it still wasn't easy. Soap looked peaceful, face relaxed for once, no smile, frown, or grimace. Reaching out, Ghost hesitantly rested a gloved hand on Soap's shoulder. Grimacing, he processes the quick heartbeat in the background of his ears. Carefully shaking the other, he watched as consciousness slowly returned to the man. Bleary eyes opened and stared back, the signature lopsided smile taking a sleepy form on Soap's face.

"Mornin' Lt." His accent was notably thicker from sleep.

"It's not morning yet, Soap."

Soap's smile only widened, an amused glint in his eyes. "It's mornin' somewhere, Ghost."

Ghost shook his head as he looked down at the concrete, relaxing for a moment. "Time to switch." Ghost said, flinching when a hand landed on his arm, eyes widening as the realization that he was still holding onto the other hit him. Against every instinct screaming at Ghost, he didn't pull his hand away, instead, his eyebrows knitted as he looked from the area of contact to Soap's face, only tolerating it because of the layers of clothing.

"Aye, rest up Lt." Soap's voice sounded airy, his hand slowly retracting. Ghost managed a grunt, removing his hand to sit down against the wall beside Soap. The Sergeant stood with a groan, moving into position with the rifle. "Jesus, how long is this goin' t' take?"

Sighing, Ghost rested his head against the wall. "However long it takes for the target to arrive, we just need to confirm it. Gaz and Price will get the difficult job."

"But that's my point! Why are we gettin' watchdog duty? The difficult job is the best part, Lt!"

A tired chuckle escaped Ghost's lips, head shaking. "Yeah, dodging bullets is the best part, Soap."

"Maybe I like gettin' shot at, eh?" Soap teased, purposefully ignoring Ghost's sarcastic tone.

Ghost raised an eyebrow as he slightly tilted his head at Soap curiously. "You get a boner from danger?"

Soap had a look of horror as he stared at Ghost, mouth agape. "Not like that you idiot!"

Ghost chuckled softly, shaking his head at Soap. Soap laughed as well, but gave Ghost a look. "You said you like getting shot at." Ghost shrugged.

"I said maybe, and you're the one who interoperated it that way! Not my fault!" Soap chuckled and then gave a sigh "You get all your laughs through messin' with me, don't you...?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Ghost hummed after he'd finished laughing. "How else am I supposed to laugh?"

Soap sighed once more as he rolled his eyes, "Why of all people, did I get stuck with the sarcastic one? The Lieutenant with the most dry humor in the 141?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ghost's lips under his mask. "Guess you're lucky..."

Soap gave a cheeky and semi-sarcastic smile, "Oh yes! I can't be luckier! Spendin' hours doin' nothin' with the most sarcastic person ever, truly. Such fortune." Soap sarcastically said.

"I can taste the honesty." Ghost rolled his eyes but chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the banter.

Soap laughed quietly, "Good. I never know if you can understand my sarcasm or if yer just ignorin' me."

Ghost gave Soap an amused look, "Gotta keep you guessing."

"You do an amazing job. In fact, sometimes I'm questioning whether you even have an actual brain."

Ghost snorted softly as he lightly shook his head, "Sure you're not talking about yourself, Sergeant?"

Soap laughed, a bright grin on his face. He was clearly enjoying the back and forth as well, "Maybe, but can you be sure yer not projectin'?"

Ghost shook his head, scoffing softly. "Cheeky, MacTavish. Cheeky."

Soap's grin grew impossibly wider, his eyes shining in amusement as Ghost used his last name. "Don't act like ye dinnae love it, Lt."

Ghost rolled his eyes as he stared at Soap, "I'm not, can't you see my joy?" Ghost's voice was dripping with sarcasm, his words and blatant sarcasm made Soap laugh. He had to cover his mouth as he was laughing quite loudly.

Soap spoke through slight tears and laughter, "Oh, definitely. You look, like yer havin'... A grand ol' time." He continued to laugh for a few more moments before gathering himself, coughing softly to clear his throat as he smiled. "Ye agree though, sittin' on this rooftop jus' watchin' for hours 's borin'."

Ghost hummed, he couldn't argue with that, Soap had a point. Even he got tired of being on scout missions, there's hardly ever any action and you lay prone almost 24/7 for days staring through a scope. You also have to keep your guard up the entire time in case of being compromised. It's tediously tiring but important work, Ghost commends every soldier that lasts longer than a day before becoming bored and fed up. Gaz for one, is one of the best in terms of scouting, the guy mainly trained in it. On account of Price being worried about giving him anything serious when the kid first linked up with him. Ghost understood the Captain's decision, probably better than anyone…

He'd seen plenty of rookie soldiers fall the second they set foot on actual battlefields, for one or more reasons. A stupid call, being too cocky, falling to terror in the face of the pressure, every rookie has done at least one whether they died or not. Though every soldier has made a bad call at one point or another in their career, anyone would…

Ghost's eyes drifted over to Soap, head tilting with his thoughts. 'I wonder if he's made any bad calls on the field? Probably, might be a touchy subject if he lost some people.'

"Yer not sleepin'." Soap stated as he turned his head to look back at Ghost. "What's up?"

Ghost searched Soap's face, it was open and bright, how was he so happy? How could he be? Having the possibility of losing friends every time they go on missions, watching a bullet spray their brains, or a knife stabbing their chests, taking their lives like they meant nothing. Having to move on, no time to bury or mourn with constant heavy gunfire at the front. How can Soap still smile? Ghost swallowed despite his dry mouth, trying to clear the blockage in his throat.

"Y' ever make a bad call on the field, Soap?" Soap's eyes widened for a moment before he raised an eyebrow.

Ghost watched Soap blink in surprise at the sudden question, clearly not having expected such a solemn topic to come up during their stakeout. The other took a moment to really consider his response, gazing out at the darkening horizon.

"Aye...I have,"

He finally admitted quietly, hands tightening almost imperceptibly around the rifle. Ghost watched him let out a slow breath, "Made some decisions I regret, lost some lads. Part o' the job, but that dinnae make it any easier." He gave a humorless chuckle.

"I try not to obsess over past mistakes though. Nothin' good comes from dwellin' on could'a, should'a, would'as. All I can do is learn from it and keep pressin' forward, aye?"

Ghost's eyebrows furrowed, Soap's response making him thoughtful, the moment still lingering with a heaviness when the Scotsman spoke up again.

"And who hasn't made any mistakes in their lives? Wait, ye probably haven't…" Soap grumbled, brows furrowing as his head tilted. "This question isn't so ye can brag about never makin' a mistake, is it?"

A smile tugged at Ghost's chapped lips, the cloth of his mask brushing against them with the movement as Soap tried to lighten the mood. "No, just curious. I've made mistakes too. Nobody is perfect, Soap."

The Sergeant nodded "Right ye are. Seriously though, The Ghost has made mistakes? That's difficult tae believe." Soap gave a cheeky smile.

Ghost responded with a shrug, head turning to look up at the cloudy night sky as his arms crossed over his chest. "We all have at one point… Possibly too many…" A heavy silence settled over them as Ghost fell in and out of memories, pulling himself out with a shake of his head. His eyelids drooped with exhaustion, it wormed its way through his body and settled heavily like a weighted blanket. Yet Ghost's eyes stayed—half-lidded, sure—but open. It was an, unfortunately, losing battle against the creeping nightmares. Gazing at Soap's prone form, Ghost felt a strange sense of safety, enough that his eyelids finally fell. Sleep sinking its claws in.

. . . .

Soap glanced over his shoulder after an hour of silence, relieved to see Ghost's eyes closed, head lulled to the side by sleep. For a moment he wondered if the other would even sleep, Soap may not know a lot about Ghost. But even rumors have truth about how cautious he is. Soap doesn't blame him, anything could happen in their line of work, and being awake can be the difference between life and death. Especially on scout missions, you may never know you've been compromised until it's too late.

Turning back to the scope, Soap sighed in disdain, the building was quiet. Even the patrols were lax, clearly, they knew it was unlikely for anyone to attack since there wasn't anything important inside yet. As much as Soap complained about it, he preferred playing watchdog over staying at base. At least here he had actual enemies to keep his attention, even if he wasn't going to engage any of them. The guards' attitudes were enough to tell Soap that they weren't expecting anything tonight, so he sat up with a groan and propped himself against the wall beside the rifle. Keeping watch of the rooftop door, he felt regretful that he didn't bring his journal to keep himself busy. Hopefully, this job won't last as long as Ghost and Price seem to think it will.

Speaking of, Ghost had touched him again. Soap was mostly relieved that the only reaction he received for grabbing Ghost's arm was a minute flinch. More importantly, Ghost hadn't taken his hand back immediately. It surprised Soap that his eyes held so many emotions in that moment, confusion, uncertainty, and even a hint of fear. Soap wanted to see more, he wanted to see the man under the mask and all the ways his face looked with different expressions. Soap spent the better half of the night routinely checking the building and letting his mind wander until a quiet pained sound surprised him.

Eyes darting around the rooftop, Soap's brows knitted as he stood to a crouch. 'Was it my imagination?' Shaking his head, a similar sound drew his attention to Ghost. The other's head has fallen further, hiding his eyes. Moving closer, Soap registered the quiet muttering coming from him. Confusion had him raising an eyebrow. 'Huh, The Ghost mutters in his sleep?' Leaning in closer, Soap turned his head to listen better.

"…n' dog…f…ker…" Well… That didn't give him anything, dog, and fucker? Was it just some dream nonsense? "Roba…" Ghost's words tattered off back into incoherent nonsense. Soap could hear the wince in Ghost's voice as the name left his lips with a tired venom, clearly not meant as a greeting. Sitting back, Soap watched the other as Ghost's eyes twitched slightly with expression.

'Price mentioned that name before, what exactly happened between Ghost and this Roba character?' Soap wasn't sure he wanted to know, considering Price's way of comforting Ghost before was to tell him Roba was dead. Sighing, Soap dragged a hand through his Mohawk, he felt uncomfortable watching Ghost fight against the obvious nightmare. He didn't want to leave him though, worrying his lip, Soap took a deep breath and held it before settling beside the other.

Carefully, he scooted over, putting an extra jacket on his shoulder and propping it under Ghost's head. Finally, Soap slowly released his breath after making sure the Lieutenant didn't wake up. The muttering tapered off soon after, leaving the wind to carry the silence. Soap didn't feel so bored sitting beside Ghost, even with the other man being asleep. The presence beside him was grounding, he wondered minutely if Ghost felt the same…

. . . .

My Dream Catcher…