Call of Desire

2. Affliction

af·flic·tion
/əˈflikSH(ə)n/
noun
physical harm, that causes pain or suffering to something in such a way as to impair its value, usefulness, or normal function.

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Content Warning: Gun Violence, Gore

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Soap struggled to keep his eyes open as the moonlight streamed into the bar through the open door and windows. The soothing sound of crickets filled the air, lulling the exhausted and injured Scotsman.

"Ghost?" he mumbled weakly.

"Soap."

"How far out are you?" Each breath was more laborious than the last.

"Hard to say. I've found a vantage point and spotted a town." Ghost grunted. "Moving as fast as I can, Johnny."

"No rush, I'm just bleeding out." Soap chuckled weakly, then winced in pain. "Can you do me a favour?"

"Depends."

"Talk to me." Soap exhaled deeply.

"I am talking to you."

"Tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

"There are plenty of things you don't know about me." Ghost remarked. "Ask me something."

Soap thought for a moment, his mind struggling to form a coherent thought. "Why do you wear the mask?"

"It startles enemies and gives me an edge."

"But you wear it even around us." Soap observed, clenching his jaw. Pain shot up his spine from his injured hip.

Ghost paused for a moment. "I suppose I do," he muttered.

"Did I strike a nerve?"

"No." Ghost's terse response silenced Soap momentarily. "Have you stopped bleeding yet?"

"Negative."

"Do you remember our time alone in Mexico?"

"Yes, sir... time to improvise?" Soap attempted to stand, but the pain shot through him, forcing him back down to the ground.

"Affirmative."

Soap lost his grip on the M4, and his body slammed into the floor. "Damn it!"

"Don't strain yourself, Serg'. You'll only lose more blood."

"Easier said than done," MacTavish grimaced, glaring at the bullet hole in his side. "I can't even get up."

"Then stay on the ground. Look for cabinets close to the floor. See if you can find anything useful."

Soap dragged himself behind the bar, cursing with every move. "There are plenty of bottles, but most of them are empty."

"Save some for me."

"There might still be some left if you get here quickly."

Ghost chuckled. "Do you like tequila?"

"Fuck no, I prefer rum." Soap rummaged through the bottles but found nothing.

"I'd kill for a whiskey..." Ghost sighed.

"You mean scotch?"

"I drink bourbon."

"Like a good ol' boy." Soap discovered several bottles of whiskey. "You're in luck, the bar is fully stocked with whiskey. No rum. What kind of bar doesn't have rum?"