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Ghost woke up warm, but alone.
He couldn’t feel the pressure of his partner against him, he couldn’t even feel the bed dipping under the other’s weight beside him. He rubbed his eyes and looked over, seeing nothing but messed up blankets.
He grumbled in confusion; where’s Soap?
He surveyed the room; their bedroom door was closed so he hadn’t left, but the sweater he’d previously thrown over the bed’s footboard was missing.
Soon he figured out that he must’ve gone out onto their balcony.
So he got up, pulled a shirt on, and walked out to where he hoped Soap would be.
The cold wind hit him as he stepped through the sliding door. Thankfully he’d been right in his assumption and Soap was out here.
He was leaning forward against the railing, his hands gripped the rail tightly with arms locked to hold him up. Even covered by the oversized sweater he’d stolen from Simon, his body looked tense. The strong grip of his hands on the railing, his shoulders hunched and held high, and his head hanging low enough to hit his chest.
Ghost just stood there for a moment, silently trying to piece together what he could about the situation before engaging.
“Johnny,” he spoke suddenly.
Soap startled, wiping his head around to look before settling down as he realized who it was.
“Bloody hell, Simon–“ he huffed, “Y’ don’t need to keep earnin’ your alias”
He quickly turned back away from him, running a hand over his face. He tried to make it look like the gesture was out of exasperation, but Ghost could see the tear streaks that he wiped from his cheeks.
Ghost hummed and walked up beside him, “What happened?”
“Nothin’, just came out for a smoke” he held his hand up, showing his mostly finished cigarette.
“And you need one… why?” He poked.
Soap sighed, his shoulders falling. He couldn’t get stuff past Ghost so there was no point in trying.
“Just had a wee nightmare, I’m alright” he glanced at Ghost before turning back to their view of the city.
Ghost sighed and moved to push their shoulders together. Soap always downplayed his own problems. No matter how long they were together.
“What was it about?” He turned to lean back against the railing, “If talkin’ won’t make it worse”
Soap swallowed dryly, averting his eyes away from the softened expression that his partner was gazing at him with. His eyes began to water, and he took a shaky breath to at least attempt at keeping the tears at bay.
“Chicago” he snubs out his smoke in the ashtray they kept out there.
Ghost hums in understanding, pulling him into his arms. Soap willingly follows his lead, leaning his forehead against his chest.
“Was still so disoriented… couldn’t really grasp what was happenin’ ‘til after you shot ‘im… and even then I wasn’t fully there”
“Was this just a replay of that mission or was it altered?”
Soap tensed up in his arms, “was different..”
He didn’t have to explain, they both knew exactly how it ended in his dream.
With a broken body lying on the sidewalk outside of the skyscraper.
Ghost sighed sadly and brought a hand up the back of Soap’s neck. He held and squeezed his nape firmly, trying to release some of the bound up tension, causing Soap to sigh and relax further into his chest.
He murmured quiet reassurances, feeling the need to reassure him of his own safety.
“I got him. We got him. You’re safe now, yeah?” He spoke low and warm.
Soap nodded against him, then tilted his head up to look at his partner.
Ghost’s heart broke a bit at the sad expression looking up at him. His eyes were tear brimmed and red, along with the tear streaks down his face.
Ghost leaned down and kissed his cheek softly, then moved to kiss down to his jawline. Soap let out a little wet laugh at his affection.
When Simon pulled back, Soap pulled him down for a proper kiss, one full of emotion. There was no heat behind it, just a transfer of love and reassurance.
They broke apart but didn’t pull back, letting their foreheads rest against the other’s.
“Love yeh, Simon..”
Ghost chuckled, “Love you too, ya bastard”