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

Howl, Howl, Howl

Simon supposed the only way he knew how to ask for help was wait until someone finally saw him at his absolute worst and offered it of their own accord. He could count on one hand the memories he had of that place. Two of them now involved John Mactavish.

He'd gone through his things and handed Soap meticulous notes in perfect handwriting. Soap had sat himself at a terminal and gone to work, barely speaking, only to ask Simon to clarify things here and there.

He'd stuck with the military for his entire long life because, in spite of all the gray areas and difficult decisions, it was consistent. Straightforward. Find and kill the bad guys. Save the innocents. He was a machine, as they had intended, and he had survived and survived and survived, and for what? For this? For it to catch up to him in those rare moments where he finally began to relax? He watched Soap frown at a screen and read through a list of files. He was handsome that way, so serious. Smile lines hugged the corners of his eyes, even when they weren't lit up. He wondered what he might find inside of himself to justify the indulgence of wanting him, of letting himself take in the sight of him.

Lost in thought, Soap turned quickly, catching Simon's stare. He held it for a second, surprised, before speaking.

"There's a building registered to the nephew of the man who's name you gave me. Nikolaus Kaiser. Here."

He pointed to a location on the map. Simon stood beside him and bent to look closer.

"That's near where I was staying..." He trailed off. "Are there photos?"

Soap clicked again, pulling up satellite images, views from the street. Simon straightened slowly, crossing his arms.

Soap turned to look at him again. "What?"

"That's the warehouse they held me in."

Soap shrugged. "Maybe it's nothing then." He clicked through other files, property information, before speaking again. "Says here there's a basement."

"Hmm." Simon hadn't moved. "I looked, there was nothing but the room I was in and some storage."

"Door could be in the floor..." Soap murmured, pulling up blue prints. "Aye, see?" He pointed, and Simon bent over his shoulder again. The blueprint showed the door in the middle of the floor, down to a large cellar. "Could have been hidden."

Simon took his seat again. "I don't know if it's worth going back there. I don't know what I'm looking for."

Soap spun in his chair to face him. "Might not hurt to check it out. Maybe they're using it for something, maybe they're not. Any proof you can get that they are involved with the program can help us."

Simon lowered his chin but kept his eyes on Soap. He was getting too casual with using words like us. It put Simon in a difficult position because he wanted it to be them, he just knew it couldn't be. Not this time.

He nodded. "I'll go, then. Take another look." He checked his watch. It was past two in the morning. "Later."

Soap cleaned up his digging before standing with Simon. "Gonna climb the fence again?"

"Maybe."

They walked out of the room and into the dark hall. "I'll get Price to let me make a supply run."

Simon's heart sank. He didn't want to have to fight Soap on this. "What for?"

"Supplies. And an excuse to leave base in a vehicle."

"He's not gonna let you, too many assassins waiting." He tried to play it off.

"Simon." Soap turned, stopping him. "If you go in there alone, and they get what they want from you, doesn't that spell fucked for all of us?"