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

It Starts Out Soft and Sweet

Simon decided that yes, it was over. Like Gary had told him to. Gary, who was no more than a scar Simon refused to close. A part of himself that he kept cutting open when he was afraid and alone because if he sewed it up properly, then Roach would be gone for real. Forever. By letting the delusion destroy him, he kept Gary alive. The only true ghost in the room was Simon Riley.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do, he would have to destroy them from the inside. With Roach gone, he sat alone and contemplated the ways by which he might take them down. It would start with why they wanted him, and why they were draining his blood. He guessed it wasn't to prove anything at all. He guessed it was already proven. He guessed they needed his DNA in large quantities for something. He wondered if they needed him alive, then. For the first time in his life, he hoped the hunger might save him once again.

It was quiet, and he felt cold. He'd thought he'd be infiltrating, learning, destroying. He didn't realize they'd be so far along already, that he was so far behind. His stomach turned at what he'd told Price. He'd made it seem like he was just doing recon, that they were just starting back up. If they stepped into it now...

And Soap, Soap would go to his own grave not knowing Simon's heart. It didn't matter really, the man would be so easily loved by someone else. Someone who wasn't so haunted by their past. And they would see him for all that he was, like Simon had failed to.

His wallowing was interrupted by another worker in their Coalition uniform. Another with an American accent, but a gentler tone.

"How are you feeling today, Simon?"

Simon frowned. "Today? What day is it?"

"You've been with us for forty-eight hours, if that's what you're asking."

A chill ran down Simon's bare back. It had felt no more than a few hours. He didn't reply.

"We're going to move you. We have what we need now."

Simon gave the man a look that he hoped conveyed just how he felt about all their bullshit. He'd settled on complacency. He had to follow along, stay alive long enough to make some kind of move. Long enough to keep them from going after the others.

The man knelt and stuck a needle in Simon's arm. He didn't even have the forethought to flinch away. Maybe, at some point in his long life, with his big, strong, indestructible body, he would stop finding himself at others' mercy.

--

Soap was pacing again. He wouldn't be surprised if he eventually wore a groove in the concrete floor. Price had pretty clearly told him not to worry. Not to bother.

But he was worried. Simon had never answered him. It had been four days since he'd left, two since he'd checked in with Soap specifically. It wasn't the right time for him to think about whatever it was between them, to decide that maybe Simon was just tired of hearing from him. Best case scenario, Simon was simply through with him, and he could show up with egg on his face, have his lashing, and go back to dreaming. Or, Simon was busy. Undercover, maybe. Doing exactly what Price had said he was doing. Or, something was wrong. He was in trouble, or he'd run from them, or worse. Soap could deal with whatever the truth was, but he couldn't deal with not knowing it.

He had enough caution left in him to wait until late, until the base was quiet, and he made his way back to the computer. The same one him and Simon had used before.

Simon was a force, a real beast of a man. But he was a man. His outer edges were weathered and sharp and treacherous, but he was soft at his core. He gave for what he believed in and he protected the people around him. Soap was more superstitious than most, but fate was a long stretch. Still, the moments they'd spent, the hours, days, the strange positions they'd found themselves in, together, it wasn't something he could ignore. Simon had never been something he could ignore.