Call of Desire

10. Despair

de·spair
/dəˈsper/
noun
the complete loss or absence of hope.

=========

Content Warning: Slight Internalised Homophobia, Needles, Gore

=========

John's breaths had slowed, his heart hardly beating. He lay limply in Simon's arms.

"Johnny...?" Simon's voice could barely be heard over the helicopter engine. "Johnny, please."

"The fuck just happened?!" Price called.

"He's unresponsive!" Simon looked up, tears welling in his eyes. "Nikolai!"

"We're 30 seconds out!" The Russian replied. "Brace yourself, there's no helipad!"

Simon held Johnny tightly against him, looking over him as tears seeped into the fabric of his mask.

"Stay with me, MacTavish. I have so much to tell you, but I need you alive..." Simon whispered, only loud enough for him to hear.

"Brace!" Nikolai shouted as the chassis shook , hovering about a meter above the ground. Simon stood, squeezing John to his chest as he jumped out of the helo. He stumbled as his feet hit the asphalt, sprinting toward the hospital.

"C'mon Johnny, c'mon Johnny, c'mon Johnny," Simon muttered, bursting through the entrance to the hospital, startling every person in the lobby. A doctor rushed to meet him.

"Are you John Price? You called, right? About John MacTavish?" She asked, looking over Soap with concern.

"This is MacTavish, he's been shot twice and one of the wounds is badly infected." Ghost spoke quickly, struggling to keep from panicking. "Can you help him?"

"We'll see. Follow me." She turned on her heel, leading Simon down a well-illuminated hallway. "Lay him here." She turned into a small room, flicking on the lights and slamming a button on the wall. Simon gingerly laid Johnny on the bed, tenderly resting his head on the thin pillow. Four nurses rushed into the room, forcing Simon to step back. He watched, his anxiety bubbling within him.

One nurse had the task of cutting John's blood-soaked shirt and trousers, another unwrapped the poorly done bandages. A third fastened an oxygen mask to John's face and attached him to a heart monitor. The fourth gently cleaned the inside of Soap's left elbow, carefully inserting an IV into his arm.

"Sir, we need you to exit the room." The doctor stood in front of him, but he looked right through her, eyes still desperately searching for signs of life from the Scot. "Sir?"

"Alright- yeah. Okay." Simon mumbled, slowly backing out the door in shock. He stood there for several minutes, staring at the door, willing it to open, for Johnny to walk through as if nothing had happened.

"Simon...?" Price placed a hand on Ghost's shoulder, breaking him from his daze. "You alright, mate?"

"Yeah- yeah." He mumbled, lifting a hand to rub at his face.

"Nikolai and I were gonna go find a hotel and get food. Come with us."

"How are you not worried about MacTavish?" Ghost snapped, turning toward his Captain, a fire ignighting in his eyes. "How the fuck do you wanna go get lunch while Soap's fucking dying?"

"No matter how much I worry, Simon, it will not change the outcome of MacTavish's injuries." Price stated calmly. "Come with us. You haven't eaten in upwards of five days. There's no way you're not starving, and staring at that door won't help any of us."

Simon hesitated, weighing his options. He knew Price was right, as usual. 

"Fine..." He solemnly followed Price down the hall and out of the hospital.

Soap can't die... Right? He won't die. He can't die.

...

What am I going to do without him?

...

I don't want to be here if he's not...

...

What the fuck does that mean?

...

I'm so fucking confused.

"Simon? You hear me?" The captain broke him from his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Nikolai went off and found a hotel." Price uttered. "You wanna get settled in? I'll bring you a meal."

Ghost sighed deeply, knowing there was nothing more he could do. "Yeah, alright." Price placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"He's gonna be fine, Simon."

Will he?

"I know." Simon muttered. The hotel was just down the road from the hospital, which was a relief. Nikolai had gotten two rooms, one for he and Price, one for Ghost.

Simon closed the door to his room, stripping his clothes off as he turned on the shower. He tossed his mask aside, not bothering to wait for the water to warm up before stepping in.

Simon sat on the floor of the shower, the cold spray washing over him. He tangled his hands in his hair, the reality of the situation crashing over him.

Oh fuck... oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

His body began shaking violently, breathing erratically as gut-wrenching sobs tore through his chest.

Why do I feel this way?

He pulled his legs to his chest, hiding his face between his knees.

Why does my face get so red around you?

His nails dug into his knees, back heaving with panicked breaths.

Why do I feel so flustered whenever you touch me, John?

The water slowly began to heat up, soothing Simon's aching muscles.

Why do you make me feel safe?

Simon looked up, letting the water rinse the tears off his face.

"Why do I love you?" he mumbled shakily, hyperventilating. "Why, Johnny, why do I love you?"

He let out a shuddering exhale, forcing himself to breathe. After several long moments, with the steady warmth of the water running down his back, he calmed.

"Why do I always do this to myself?" he muttered bitterly, pulling himself off the floor of the shower.

Simon grabbed the small bar of soap the hotel provided, carefully lathering it over his sore body, eager to rid himself of the sand and sweat. Once satisfied, Simon turned off the shower and dried himself, appreciating the feeling of the soft towel against his skin.

The exhaustion hit him like a train, the adrenaline finally leaving his body. Simon felt his energy melt out of him, the fatigue stopping any thought in his head.

He stumbled toward the soft bed, collapsing onto it with a satisfied sigh. He inhaled the scent of the clean blanket as he climbed under it, curling into a small ball under the warmth of the blanket. He was asleep before he even knew it, body finally relaxing into the mattress.

=========

Price knocked softly on the door to Ghost's room, a meal and clean clothing in hand.

"Simon?"

He slowly opened the unlocked door, immediately spotting Simon's body nestled up under the blanket, only the top of his head visible. He quickly and silently placed the food and clothes on the bedside table. He pulled a clean skull balaclava out of his back pocket, placing it on top of the folded clothes. 

"Sleep well, Simon," Price whispered before stepping away, closing and locking the door behind him.