Chapter Text
He couldn’t breathe.
It’s dark and he can’t breathe. He feels the hand of someone to the left of him. He looks left and grabs the hand. Recognizing it anywhere. A tear falls from his eye.
Johnny.
No. This is not real. It can’t be.
Johnny lays underneath him, cold. No warmth. No smile. No jokes to tell Ghost. Johnny is dead.
The dirt is leaking in through the coffin. He’s losing oxygen. Panic starts to set in. But that doesn’t matter because Johnny is dead.
It happens to everyone he…
Ghost shakes. Opening his eyes, he finds himself staring into the darkness. Heart pounding. He looks at the clock.
0313.
Fuck. Can’t I have a normal night's sleep.
Deep breaths. Grabbing his favorite knife, he gets out of bed and puts on clothes. Looks like it's 3 hours of sleep for him. He grabs his mask on the nightstand and pulls it over his dirty blond hair. He quietly turns the door handle. No one should be awake at this hour anyway. His breathing is still a little heavier than normal.
Quiet footsteps move through the halls. Tea. Tea would be bloody fantastic. He reroutes to the kitchen.
It’s dark, but he doesn’t turn on the lights. Enough light is coming from the moon tonight. He grabs the kettle. It’s always there. Turning on the stove, he fills the kettle and places it there.
That wasn’t the first time recently he’s had this dream. Ever since Las Almas and Chicago, Soap has been infiltrating his dreams. Soap had made him feel things. Made his ice cold heart thaw ever so slightly. Soap sees him in the way no one else has. Everyone takes one look at him as this big scary killing machine. He buried his heart long ago. This was why Ghost is here and Simon Riley was not. Ghost survives.
But Soap seemed dead set on bringing Simon back from the dead. When Soap walked up to him on the tarmac, punched his shoulder, and told him he would save him a seat, Ghost rolled his eyes. Soap wasn't afraid of him. Graves' betrayal made him realize that he trusts the man. He waited. He couldn’t leave his teammate. Johnny made him laugh as he humors his bad jokes. Johnny understands him.
He snapped out of his head when he heard footsteps down the hall. Knife out of his pocket and into his hand, he moves close to the door. Someone walks through the doorway and Ghost grabs him and pushes the person against the wall.
“Woah, Lt. Take me to dinner first.” Soap jokes as if Ghost doesn’t have a knife to his neck. Ghost drops him so quick and backs away.
“You should know better than to sneak up on a soldier.”
“Yer the one standin in the kitchen in the dark.” Soap says, leaning against the wall.
Ghost stares at him, willing his heart to calm down. He shouldn’t have done that, but still being on edge from his nightmare was not helping.
Ghost jumps as a loud whistling sound comes from the stove. Oh shit, his tea. He grunts and re-sheaths his knife as he moves back to the stove. He grabs a mug and tea bag from the cabinet. Ripping the packet open and grabbing the tea bag from it, he drapes it in the mug. It’s a shitty brand but it's better than nothing.
Soap walks over and stands beside him.
“Can’t sleep Lt?” Soap asks. He grabs the coffee pot and begins making a cup of coffee.
“Yeah.” Ghost says, adding the water to his mug.
“Me either.” Soap sighs. Ghost looks at him. Soap’s eyes look heavy and tired. Like he could fall asleep at any moment.
They stand there in silence. It was a peaceful silence. Like they both were just taking in each other's presence. Ghost moves his tea bag around the mug, allowing it to steep.
“How do ye drink that shit?”
“Hmm?”
“Yer water with a side of leaves… ye fuckin brit.” Soap chuckles.
“Oh… it's so much better than your bean water.” Ghost huffs.
“Ah would take my dirty bean water over yer water with leaves any day o’ the week.”
Ghost smirks under his mask. Heart calmer than it has been since he woke up. This was nice. He felt relaxed around Johnny. He’s not quite sure when that happened. Johnny climbed his way over top of the skyscraper like barriers he set in place after that day. He sighs. Ghost grabs the honey from the cabinet and spoons 2 teaspoons of honey into his tea.
Ghost moves to stand where the island is coming out of the wall in an L shape, connecting with the stove and oven. He stirs his tea as he watches Johnny make his coffee. After Soap was done brewing his coffee and adding a splash of creamer to it, he came and stood next to Ghost. They were inches apart.
“Why ye awake Ghost?” Soap says in nothing more than a whisper as he sips his coffee.
Ghost froze, thinking back to his nightmare. Seeing Johnny dead and buried underneath him. His breathing became a little heavier. No one had ever asked him about his nightmares before. Other than the psychologist who has to clear them for duty. But he never even told her about that. Just acted like it was nothing.
Every time he’s had that nightmare, it was a reminder of everything that came after. It used to be just the soldier that he was buried with. Then it became his mother. For the longest time, it was her and only her. Someone Simon missed dearly. Ghost forgets, but Simon never can. But then… It was Johnny. Johnny who wasn’t afraid of him. Who tried to make him laugh. Wanted to be his teammate and friend. Someone he was terrified to lose.
He feels a warm shoulder press up against his arm.
Soap.
Johnny.
Alive.
Ghost turns his head to look at him, pulling him out of his own thoughts.
“Ye know ye can talk to me. I won’t judge. I promise.” Soap says in a very calming voice. Eyes staring into Ghost’s, trying to communicate with him. Ghost knows he can trust him.
“Just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about Sergeant.” Ghost whispers.
Soap looks at him a little sad, but that is quickly replaced by something Ghost can not place.
“Me too, Lt.” He sighs exhaustedly, pressing more into Ghost.
Ghost hates physical contact. Well… normally. He doesn’t mind this. This is grounding. Feeling Soap pressed up against him makes him realize he’s here. He’s not in a nightmare or a dream. They’re both alive.
“Do ye want to talk about it?”
Ghost shakes his head, relaxed. He couldn’t tell Johnny of what he saw. What he felt.
“I’m glad yer here Ghost. Mine was about you.” Soap said, taking a deep breath. “It’s nice to know yer alive and have my back.”
Ghost blinks. Soap was dreaming about him, not alive. Like Ghost. He said nothing, just stared into the darkness.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Johnny didn’t share any more and kept his arm pressed into Ghost’s. They drank their tea and coffee and basked in each other's presence.
When the sun started to peek through the window and they finished their drinks, they set their mugs in the sink and moved away from each other. Simon felt the loss of Johnny’s arm and it made him feel empty. It was Simon that was empty from the loss of contact. Simon seems to slip though at the worst times. Ghost didn’t want that. It made him feel weak. He didn’t need contact with anyone. But Johnny seems dead set on bringing Simon back to life.
“See ye later Ghost. For training.” Johnny smiled and walked out of the kitchen.
Ghost stood there for a minute. He should have never allowed that to happen. That comfort. He didn’t need it. It made him human. The part he tried to forget.
Then, he kicked into gear and headed back to his room. He looked at the clock. 0539. 21 minutes until he had to be out kicking the recruits into shape.
Ghost went through the rest of his day, the most relaxed he had been in a while.