Unseen | Ghost x Soap

Chapter 63: Separation Anxiety

Ghost's POV:

The air felt heavier as we moved deeper into the valley. The trees were thicker here, their twisted branches blotting out what little light seeped through the dense canopy. Every sound seemed amplified—the crunch of leaves beneath our boots, the distant rustle of something unseen in the underbrush. The Valley of Death. The name was starting to feel too damn real.

We kept close, too close maybe, but I couldn't help it. Soap was right at my side, as he had been for the last few miles, and I made sure to stay just a step behind him. Not too far back, not too far forward. Just close enough that I could reach him if something—anything—happened.

I hated this place. It felt alive somehow, like the forest was watching, waiting for the perfect moment to swallow us whole. But it wasn't just the place that had me on edge. It was the fact that any second now, Price was going to give the order to split the team, and I knew he'd want Soap going in one direction while I went in another.

And that thought alone twisted my gut into knots.

We reached a clearing—small and exposed, the kind of place that made you feel like a sitting duck—and Price signaled for us to stop. His face was all business, but I could see the tension in his eyes too. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but commanding. "We're splitting up here. Gaz, you take the east side, cut through the ridge and sweep the perimeter. Soap and Ghost, you head west with me until we hit the stream. Then you two break off."

My stomach dropped. Break off. Meaning he wanted Soap and me to go further, deeper, into the most dangerous part of the valley. Alone.

"Captain," I said, keeping my voice steady, but I couldn't hide the edge of protest. "We should all stick together. This area's a damn maze."

Price looked at me for a long second, his eyes narrowing just slightly. He knew what I was really asking, but he didn't say anything. Didn't have to. He just nodded once, his gaze flicking to Soap.

"You'll be fine, Ghost. You and Soap can handle yourselves."

The words were meant to reassure, but they didn't. Not for me. Sure, we could handle ourselves—but this place? It wasn't just about skill. It was about chance, luck. And the idea of leaving Soap to chance, to whatever might be lurking out here, had my pulse hammering in my chest.

I glanced at Soap. He gave me a quick nod, his expression calm, collected. He didn't seem worried at all, but I knew him better than that. He was just good at hiding it. Too good.

"Let's move," Price said, breaking the moment. "We don't have time to waste."

We pushed on, the silence between us growing heavier with each step. Gaz split off after a few minutes, giving us a lazy salute as he disappeared into the thick undergrowth with the rest of the team. Then it was just the three of us: Price, Soap, and me, trudging through the shadowed forest, the tension ratcheting higher with every second.

My mind kept racing, turning over possibilities, imagining every worst-case scenario. Every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves had my hand tightening around my rifle. I stayed close to Soap, too close, but I couldn't pull back. I needed to be there. Just in case.

We reached the stream after what felt like an eternity. The water was shallow, barely more than a trickle, but the sound of it against the rocks was jarring in the stillness. This was it. Our turning point. Price stopped and turned to us, his face set in that unreadable way he had.

"You two keep going west," he said, pointing further into the dense forest. "I'll circle around and meet back at the rendezvous. Don't get lost."

"Never do," Soap quipped, flashing that cocky grin of his. I didn't smile. Couldn't. My chest felt too tight.

Price nodded once, then without another word, he disappeared into the trees, leaving us alone.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The silence was almost crushing now, the only sound the faint trickle of the stream and the distant rustle of the wind through the trees. I glanced at Soap, my heart hammering in my chest. I didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit that I was fucking terrified of something happening to him.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice soft, barely more than a murmur.

I nodded. "Let's go."

We walked in silence, side by side, pushing deeper into the forest. The terrain was rough, the ground uneven, and the trees seemed to close in around us the further we went. Every step felt like it echoed in the emptiness, like we were the only two souls left in this godforsaken place.

Soap moved ahead slightly, his eyes scanning the path in front of us. He was calm, steady, the way he always was in the field. But all I could think about was how exposed he was. How one misstep, one hidden trap, could take him from me in an instant.

I didn't realize I'd been staring until he looked back at me, catching my eye. He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You good, mate? You've been hovering over me like a bloody helicopter."

I grunted, shifting my gaze forward. "Just keeping an eye on you, Johnny. That's all."

He chuckled, but there was something softer in his eyes. "I can handle myself, you know. Been doing this a long time."

"I know." My voice came out rougher than I intended, the words sticking in my throat. I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on the path ahead, but my mind kept drifting back to the same thought. **What if something happens to him?**

The silence stretched between us again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Just... tense. Like everything that had been left unsaid was hanging in the air between us. Soap knew how I felt. He knew how much I cared—how much I loved him. And he knew, even if I didn't say it, that the thought of losing him scared the hell out of me.

We pushed on, the forest growing darker, denser. The sound of the stream faded into the background until all we could hear was the crunch of our boots against the forest floor and the occasional rustle of leaves.

Every now and then, Soap would glance back at me, like he was checking to make sure I was still there. And every time he did, my chest tightened just a little more. I hated how close we were to danger, how vulnerable this place made us. But as much as I wanted to protect him, I knew I couldn't shield him from everything. We were both in this. Together.

After what felt like hours, Soap slowed his pace, falling back so we were walking side by side again. He didn't say anything, but his shoulder brushed against mine, just for a second. It was a small gesture, barely noticeable, but it was enough. Enough to remind me that we were still here. Still together.