Howl [COD Simon Ghost Riley & John Soap Mactavish AU]

The Saints Can't Help Me Now

CW: mention of suicide

"I don't think we are."

Simon was about to pull rank. It was on the tip of his tongue, because he could feel Soap dying to make some kind of stupid suggestion about something he didn't even believe, let alone understand.

"Yes." Soap was up, pacing again. "We are. You look sick, you must have been desperate to go out like that. You mentioned meat earlier, right? Maybe I can find some, I—"

"The storm's dangerous, Soap, and you need rest."

Soap huffed a laugh, cutting his eyes at the other man. "Are you kidding? This is what I live for."

"If there were animals to be found out there, I would have gone for them first. There aren't. They're hidden away from this storm, same as we are."

Soap's rapid-fire thoughts were interrupted by Simon's cough, hollow, deep in his chest. He knew those bullet wounds could have killed him. Should have. The fact that he didn't bleed out walking to the truck was a miracle that Soap had chosen to ignore.

Regardless of whatever else he was, he was a sick, injured man and he deserved some tenderness. Some safety. Whether or not he was what he claimed to be, he was still Simon Riley, and he had still suffered enough for ten men. More. Soap reached for his arm.

"You need to lie down. Come on." Simon let him pull him up onto the sofa and lay him down. He pulled the blanket off the floor and put it back over him.

"I expected you to question me." He said, closing his eyes.

"You told me not to, remember? It's never gone over well for me when I did." He pulled the blanket up over his arms, wondering how long they actually had. "I always knew something was different about you. Finding out you're super human isn't actually that far-fetched."

The flattery wasn't lost on Ghost. "You can question me now, Soap. It's alright."

"Show me your teeth. I can tell you're hiding them."

Simon stared at him, the effort it took to hold his gaze steady obvious to Soap. But he opened his mouth and curled his lip, just enough to reveal the end of a too-long canine. Soap stared at it. It would look normal if he'd seen it in passing, but the longer he gazed at it, the more unnatural it looked, the point sharpened so far that he wasn't even sure he could see the tip with his naked eye. Simon ran his tongue over it in what looked like habit before shutting his mouth. He watched a look of wonder cross Johnny's face that he had seen many times before, and it turned his stomach again, knowing why.

He had nothing to say. Soap thought it was beautiful, the revelation, it was like a child learning magic was real. Like all the theories, the mysteries, they all held a tangible thread of truth. And the proof was his and his alone, imparted on him because of the trust between the two men. He cherished it, and he felt unworthy of it.

Soap leaned forward, unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, to assure himself that he was real. He adjusted the blanket again, letting his hand brush Simon's arm. "There's another option that we haven't discussed."

Simon frowned, a pained look on his face. "No Soap. There are no other options."

"I'm not stupid, Simon, if you need blood to live, I'll give you some of mine."

"No." His eyes flew open, momentarily crystal clear and perfectly serious. "Absolutely not."

"If you were in the hospital somewhere and needed a transfusion from me, you wouldn't say absolutely not."

"No. It's not the same." He let his eyes fall closed again. His skin was so warm that Soap could feel it radiating heat from where he knelt next to him.