Unseen | Ghost x Soap

Chapter 6: Despair

Ghost's POV:

The base felt emptier without Soap. Every corner, every shadow seemed to whisper his name, reminding me of his absence. We had returned from the mission bruised but alive, only to find that Soap had vanished. It had been days since his kidnapping, and each hour that passed without news gnawed at me.

I sat in the briefing room, surrounded by monitors and maps, replaying the events of that night over and over in my mind. Price stood beside me, his expression as grim as my own.

"We're doing everything we can," he said, his voice steady but laced with concern. "Intel is scarce, but we're following every lead."

"I know," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... he's not just a soldier. He's.."

Price nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We'll get him back, Ghost. We will."

But as days turned into weeks, my hope began to waver. I couldn't shake the image of Soap, alone and suffering. Every night, I lay awake, haunted by the thought of what he might be enduring.

Soap's POV:

Time had lost all meaning. My world had shrunk to the confines of my cell, the pain, and the darkness. Each session of torture left me weaker, both physically and mentally. My body was a tapestry of scars and bruises, my mind a fractured mess of fear and despair.

The terrorist visited me often, his presence a reminder of my helplessness. He reveled in my suffering, his taunts and threats echoing in my mind long after he had gone.

"You're alone, Soap," he would say, his voice a serpent's hiss. "No one is coming for you."

I tried to hold on to memories of better times, of my team, of Ghost. But they were slipping away, replaced by the overwhelming weight of my torment. Each day, the line between reality and nightmare blurred further.

One night, as I lay on the cold floor, my body trembling with pain, I felt a crack in my resolve. Tears streamed down my face, and for the first time, I allowed myself to give in to the despair.

"Please," I whispered to the darkness, my voice broken. "Someone... anyone... help me."

Ghost's POV:

I was losing sleep, my mind constantly drifting to Soap. The team noticed, but they didn't say anything. They knew better than to question my resolve. But inside, I was unraveling.

One evening, I found myself in the barracks, staring at Soap's empty cot. I picked up his dog tags, the metal cool against my skin. They were a tangible reminder of his presence, a symbol of our bond.

I remembered the night we had sat together, talking about the mission. His determination, his strength. He had always been the heart of our team, the one who could find light even in the darkest moments. And now, he was the one in darkness.

"Hang in there, Soap," I muttered, clutching the dog tags tightly. "I'm coming for you."

Soap's POV:

My body was failing, the constant torture taking its toll. I had lost count of the days, each one blending into the next in a haze of pain and fear. I was a shell of the soldier I had once been, my spirit crushed under the weight of my suffering.

The terrorist visited less frequently now, his confidence in my broken state evident. But each time he left, I felt a small flicker of defiance, a tiny spark that refused to be extinguished.

One day, as I lay in the darkness, I heard the distant sound of footsteps. They stopped outside my cell, and the door creaked open. For a moment, I dared to hope.

But it was just another guard, bringing food and water. He set the tray down and left without a word, the door slamming shut behind him. I stared at the tray, my appetite nonexistent.

"Hang in there, Soap," I whispered to myself, echoing Ghost's words from so long ago. But my voice was weak, my hope nearly gone.