Carry On

Save You a Seat

   On the next mission, the 141 had to take down the terrorist, Hassan. To make long story short, their partner, Philip Graves and the Shadow Company betrayed them. Alejandro was captured. Soap had gotten shot in the arm and was separated from Ghost in the city of Las Almas.

   While the Scot sat against a building with his arm bleeding, he tried to keep himself from panicking. He tried to get in touch with his LT.

   "This is Bravo 7-1, in the blind... How copy?" He said into the comms. There was only static, so he tried another channel. "Ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?" He said with more desperation. Still, there was nothing. Surely, the Ghost hadn't gotten killed.

   "Fuck... Where are you, Ghost?" John stood up and started to walk, but he tripped and fell. As he shakily tried to stand again, his comms crackled to life.

   "Soap, this is Ghost, how copy?" That bastard was alive. How dare he give Soap a scare like that?

   "Johnny...?" The sergeant grunted and felt his arm. He then looked at his blood-covered hand. "Johnny, how copy?" 'Give me a minute, Ghost,' Soap thought to himself. He slowly stood up and answered.

   "Solid, LT," he grunted.

   "Thought we lost you," the Brit answered. Soap almost cried.

~~

   After the duo drove to Alejandro's safehouse, Ghost parked the truck. Neither one of them got out, though. the Scot stared down at his feet.

   "You're awfully quiet, Sergeant," Ghost pointed out.

   "Oh, aye... Jist lost in thought, I guess," Soap answered. The Brit hummed. Then he gently placed a hand on the other man's thigh comfortingly.

   "I cannae believe how easily fooled I was," John muttered.

   "What do you mean, Johnny?"

   "It's jist tha', I trusted Graves. An' he fuckin' betrayed us!"

   "Never liked the fucker," Simon replied. "The main reason is because he's American." Soap snorted at that.

   "Cheers to tha'."

   "Lemme see your arm," he said.

   "Why? Ye gonna kiss it better?"

   "No," Simon responded. He took Soap's sarcasm seriously, and that made the Sergeant roll his eyes.

   "I was bein' sarcastic, LT."

   "I knew that..." He didn't, but he wasn't about to admit that.

~~

   When the team got back to base after the mission was successfully finished, John and Ghost made their way to their rooms. The Lieutenant pretty much had to pry Soap away from him.

   "Are ye sure you're alright, LT?" He asked.

   "Fuckin' hell, Soap. I'll be fine. Leave me alone."

~~

   Gaz walked to Price's office to check on him. He knocked on the door and waited for a response... but there was none.

   "Cap'n, you alright in there?" Kyle asked. He knocked again, but heard nothing still. 'Oh, he's gonna skin me alive...' He thought to himself as he opened the door and stepped inside.

   He saw the old Brit at his desk with his head on the desk. He was snoring, which made it obvious he was sleeping. He'd fallen asleep rather quickly. Gaz walked up to him and gently tapped on the man's shoulder.

   "Sir...?" He softly spoke. More snores were his only reply. "Captain?" No response. "Price." Still nothing.

   'Fuck my life...' "Jonathan!" Price jolted upright.

   "Huh, wha?" He rubbed his eyes and looked at Gaz. "Why the fuck did you wake me up?"

   "Are you okay?"

   "Okay? Yeah, I'm okay. Why'd you have to wake me up to ask me that?"

   Kyle took a deep breath.

   "Do you need anything?" He asked. The Captain was about to say something snarky, but he stopped himself when he saw the look on the Sergeant's face.

   "I, um, could use some tea," he said.

   "Anything special?"

   "Black with three sugars."

   "Got it, Cap'n. Anything else?" Gaz said with a smile.

   "No, that's all, Garrick." The old Brit yawned. Gaz walked out of the office with a grin. 'I'd like to thank my mum, my sister, my friends...'