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

Be Careful of The Curse

Simon slowly pulled back from Soap who seemed to realize where he was and pull his hand from his chest. He was on his way down and it made him shakier. Nauseous. And the shame....his face was hot, his clothes too tight, and Simon was too damn close.

Simon watched him still fighting for a deep breath. But he was standing on his own, and his eyes had lost that glassy distance. He turned back to the door and listened again. They were alone. He pushed it open and stepped back, Soap had a blank look on his face and he kept his eyes straight ahead as he slid past. Simon followed, indicating that they should take the back door out. Soap opened it this time and Simon's hand tightened on his gun in case something caught them unprepared a third time.

Once out the door, Soap finally filled his lungs with fresh air. He stopped and bent forward, his hands on his knees. Simon walked a couple of steps past him and turned, watching. They had both been through this. They had both watched countless others deal with the same. He needed to sit and put his head between his knees and sip cold water and let it pass. And they didn't have time for that.

"Soap." He said quietly.

He meant to tell him he'd do anything for him, carry him if he needed to. To remind him he wasn't alone. But Soap looked up at him coldly and straightened, saying nothing. Guilt settled heavy and icy in Simon's middle. He'd dragged Soap down there knowing it wasn't safe, and knowing it was a trigger. They kept walking, Simon leading but his ears were focused on the uneven steps of the man just behind him. His heart was slowing, at least, but it wasn't settled. He had gotten to a point of trying to fight it.

Simon kept a close ear and eye on their shadowy path back to the truck. It was uncompromised, far enough way to be unsuspecting, but they shouldn't wait around long anyway. His own nerves were fully on end, what he'd seen in that tunnel burned behind his eyes. He'd deal with that later. He'd deal with Soap now.

He followed him to the passenger side and stepped around him to open the door.

"Sit down." He pointed to the step.

Soap glanced at him and shook his head. He meant to say they should just go, but he struggled with the words, too focused on trying to keep his breathing normal.

"Sit." Simon said again, and Soap recognized that he should obey. So he sat. "Just put your head down and breathe for a second."

Soap flinched at the softness in his tone. The concern. He'd wanted that before, he'd held on to every time he'd ever heard it, but now it felt like it was burning him. "We don't have a second."

"Yes we do." Simon spread his arms, placing one hand against the truck and the other against the door. He looked down at where Soap perched on the step as he looked at the ground and contemplated what he should do.

Eventually, he dropped his head to his knees and hugged his arms beneath his thighs. Simon listened as finally, his heart rate evened out and his breathing was more natural, less controlled. When he felt they could get into the cab of the truck, another small space, without Soap bailing on him, he slowly knelt in front of him, letting the door swing the rest of the way open.

Soap looked up at Simon, his face no less blank, but with some life in it. In the light of some far off street lamp, Simon could see the wound that bled on him before. His own control had been tested then, but he felt confident in it now. It wasn't alarming, but it was deep enough to have soaked through his shirt and jacket. It needed to be cleaned up and dressed.

He found himself struggling to take his eyes off of Soap's face. This moment felt entirely different than those he had shared with him in the wilderness, the few one on one interactions since. This time he'd actually done it. He'd hurt him.