Call of Desire

8. Travel

trav·el
/ˈtrav(ə)l/
verb
go from one place to another, typically over a distance of some length.

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The road stretched on, seemingly endless. They had run out of things to talk about hours ago. Soap's illness remained persistent, raging through his veins. He felt weak. Ghost struggled to stay awake, having been conscious for over 32 hours now. Had he been more cognitive, he may have been more careful of his words and actions.

"What made you join the military, Lt.?" Soap mumbled, lightly squeezing Simon's hand.

Simon sighed deeply, considering that for a moment.

"Watching the World Trade Center collapse.  Shook me to my core." Ghost admitted, shifting in his seat. "What about you? What made you join?"

"Ah, always wanted to. Me da' was a military man. Runs in the family, I suppose." Soap looked longingly out the window, his free hand gripping the bullet wound in his hip. "fuck..." he mumbled.

"You okay?"

Soap clenched his jaw, brow furrowing as he tried in vain to make himself more comfortable. "Tha mi ann am pian..."

"English, MacTavish."

"I fucking hurt."

"We're almost there, about 10 hours away now." Ghost reassured him, casting a brief glance toward Johnny.

"You think they'll have a proper medical evac for me?" Johnny mumbled, exhaling raggedly. 

"They fucking better." Simon muttered lowly. 

"Oh?" Soap chuckled. "And if they don't?"

"They'll be needing a fucking medical evac," Ghost growled.

Soap chuckled. "You're so very threatening, Simon."

"I really am."

"Yes, you are." Soap chuckled, then grimaced at the pain. "Shite..."

"Just hold on, Johnny."

MacTavish clenched his jaw. "I'm tryin', Lt.,"

"Is there anything I can do to comfort you?"

"Just- just please, pedal to the metal." Soap breathed. "Hold my hand and fucking drive..."

Simon lightly squeezed John's cold hand. "I'm here, Johnny. Stay with me."

"I'm trying, mate." MacTavish exhaled. "I'm fuckin' tired."

"If you die, I'll kill you." Ghost joked. That made Johnny snort, then grimace in pain, snickering quietly. 

"Let me read that back to you, Simon." Soap smiled weakly, weakly turning his head toward the other man. "If I die; are you with me?"

"Yes, I know what I-"

"No, no, let me finish." MacTavish cut him off. "If I die... okay?"

"Okay..." Simon struggled to contain his laughter.

"If I die... You'll kill me."

"Shut the fuck up." Both men burst out laughing, delirious from lack of sleep. They continued with rather stupid banter, becoming more and more simple as the hours passed. At one point, they spent several minutes laughing at the idea of a blind man trying to skydive with his dog.

Ghost told rather shit jokes, and Soap replied with even worse puns. Neither realised how much they really enjoyed the other's company. Ghost grew to love John's crooked smile, his face getting warm whenever he saw it.

"Gah, I feel fucking drunk." MacTavish weakly rubbed his face with his free hand. "I swear, we're going mad."

"That's for sure." The Lieutenant sighed, a light smile pulling at the corners of his lips, hidden under his mask. "I've gotta admit, I'm gonna miss being able to spend one on one time with you when we get back to base."

"Who says we can't?" Johnny asked, tired eyes flicking over to study Simon.

"Ah well... we'd never be truly alone, would we? We'd never have stupid conversations like this, you know?" Ghost surprised himself with his words. "I guess I just don't feel all that relaxed at the base." Soap stared through the windshield and thought for a moment.

"I feel relaxed around you, Simon. Maybe I can help you find a way to decompress?" Soap offered. "Being on guard all the time must be fucking exhausting."

"It's not all that bad."

"You deserve to feel safe, Simon." Johnny spoke, offering Simon's hand another gentle squeeze. "Let me help you."

Simon considered that, only speaking after a few moments."What would that entail?"

"You insinuated that you feel relaxed around me, yeah?"

Ghost hesitated once more, glancing sidelong at Johnny, trying to figure out what he was getting at. "Yeah, I suppose."

"You have an empty bed in your room. I could sleep there every now and again if you'd like." MacTavish felt his confidence waver. Was he asking too much?

"I... I'd appreciate that." Ghost admitted after a moment. "Especially after this fucking mission. I don't think I'll be able to sleep unless you're around. It's... almost soothing to be able to hear you." Besides, he thought, I'm fucking terrified of leaving you alone.

"I can do that for you, Simon." John smiled, slightly giddy. This was far from being in a relationship with him, but it seemed that would be the best that Soap would get. For the moment, anyway.

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The two exhausted, dirty, injured men found themselves an hour from the Al Mazrah-Jordan border. They had three hours left before the helo would be there to retrieve them. They had run out of water and were low on fuel. Soap's condition had worsened. He was unable to lift his head, his trembling hand lightly gripping Ghost's wrist.

"Stay with me, Johnny..." Simon nearly pleaded, glancing at the other man once more. Soap responded with a weak hum, his body limply leaning against the truck's door. "We're almost there."

"Fuck..." John rasped, shuddering.

"You're gonna be okay, Johnny."

"Since when were you the optimistic one?" Soap muttered.

"I'm not, I'd just rather if you didn't die." Ghost took Soap's hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of the Scotsman's hand. "You're gonna be just fine."

"Simon..." Soap clutched the Lieutenant's hand.

"Johnny?"

"There's something I need to say before I'm gone."

"You're not gonna die." Ghost uttered firmly, as if trying to convince himself.

"Simon, please."

"Johnny, you're gonna be okay. We'll make it home, and you can tell me everything when you're not on the verge of death, alright?" Simon squeezed Soap's hand.

"Alright..." Soap wanted to tell Simon everything he had ever felt for the Brit, to open up to him. "Don't let me go..."

"I won't, Johnny."

Soap exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.

"We're so close, don't die now."

"'m not dyin', Ghost." Johnny murmured, hardly audible.

"Promise?" When he was greeted by silence, Ghost glanced over at the Scotsman. Soap was breathing, seemingly just sleeping. Simon held his companion's hand and monitored his pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

He's probably fucking exhausted... I'll let him sleep.

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Author's Note: Heya lads, apologies for being a few days late, I had a bit of a situation on my hands. I'm all good now(mostly), and the chapter uploads should be fairly regular again.