Work Text:
“Johnny,” Ghost rasped, a hint of a smile on his masked lips. “Why did the man miss the funeral?” Soap bit back an exasperated sigh. His eyes found Ghost’s, and held them for a moment, before he let out a weak chuckle.
“Do I want to know?”
“He wasn’t a mourning person,” Ghost replied. His voice came out breathless and hoarse, but he managed a weak laugh despite it. Soap found himself huffing a laugh as well.
“That was terrible, Lt.” His voice shook. Ghost knew he was trying his best to stay calm, collected, but the worry in Soap’s eyes was too obvious. His hands gripped Ghost’s wound a little tighter, but the blood seeped between his fingers anyways. “Do you got another one?”
Simon thought for a moment. “Where did the poor bloke go after getting lost on a minefield?” Soap didn’t bother to hold back his groan this time.
“I don’t think I want to know, do I?” He met Ghost’s eyes, expectant. Hopeful. “Where?”
Ghost tried to answer, but black spots danced in his vision and he seemed to choke on his tongue. Or was it blood? He looked for Soap again, but he couldn’t quite focus on him.
“Ghost?”
Everything hurt. It hurt so bloody much, and Simon’s head felt heavy. He was cold, too. So cold. He hadn’t been this cold since he was buried under the ground, wet earth seeping into his skin. Why was he so cold?
“Simon!” Johnny’s voice. Johnny was underground, too? No, no he wasn’t. Ghost wasn’t underground, not yet. And Soap wasn’t, either. His vision came into focus again, slowly. Soap’s face was close to his own, and there was more pressure on his chest as Soap continued to press down. It felt like his ribs would break, if they hadn’t already. “Talk to me, Simon! Are you with me?”
“-with you,” Ghost wheezed, barely. It came out as a whisper, but Soap heard it anyway. Relief washed over his face, but his brows were still tense. “Can’t remember what I was sayin’ to ya’.”
Soap flashed him a sad smile. “You didn’t finish your bloody joke. Something about a minefield. I’m sure it’s an awful one.”
Ghost coughed, and it sounded a lot more wet than it should be. “Right,” he tried again. “Why… no, where did the man go after getting lost on a minefield? Everywhere.” He didn’t wait for Soap’s response this time, lest he pass out again. His lips cracked into another smile, but Soap’s didn’t quite match.
“Getting a little too dark, for me, Lt,” Soap said softly. “Got anything a bit lighter?”
Simon tried to think, but his head was too heavy. Nothing was coming to mind, but Soap was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Any answer. “Not sure,” he murmured, finally. “Can’t seem to think of any.” Soap choked back a sob, but it wracked his shoulders anyway. Why was Johnny crying? Johnny should be smiling, always smiling. “I’m sorry,” Simon whispered, for everything. Soap didn’t seem to hear.
“It’ll be okay, Simon,” he was repeating it, over and over. “You’re going to be okay, yeah? Just hold on a little more. Keep thinking of a joke for me, please? Just stay awake for me, Simon, can you?”
Simon didn’t know if he could do that. He wasn’t holding his head up, anymore; Johnny was doing that for him now. Johnny was doing a lot for him. Simon wanted to stay awake for him, he did, but he was just so tired. He didn’t realize he had said it aloud, until Soap’s grip tightened, and he bowed his head to hide the tears.
“I know, love, I know,” he sobbed. “You need to stay awake though, okay? The evac will be here soon. They’ll have a medic. They’ll be able to help you, Simon. So don’t worry, yeah? Just stay awake.” It hurt to breathe. Simon couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, because it felt more like he was drowning instead. He rattled off a breath, though, and then another. He kept doing it, because it seemed to make Johnny happy. Every shaky breath that Simon took, Johnny took one too. He didn’t know if he could tell another joke, though. He’d finally thought of one, but he couldn’t seem to open his mouth to say it. Why was the cemetery so crowded, he tried to say. He let out a pathetic gurgle instead. Johnny’s lips kept moving, kept talking to him. Stay awake, please, medics are coming, hang on Simon, please. At least, it looked like that’s what he was saying. Ghost was usually pretty good at lip reading, but his vision was blurry. It almost looked like Johnny had said I love you, but that couldn’t be right. Nobody could love a ghost. Simon wished it was possible, though. Maybe in another life. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it in another life, though. He wanted it with Johnny. With Soap. With his stupid partner who hated his stupid jokes but asked him to tell them anyway. Who had his back when the entire world was against him. Who he knew he could trust, no matter what hell was freezing over the world. So when Johnny told him it’ll be okay, one last time, Simon believed him. He didn’t hurt anymore.
Why was the cemetery so crowded?
People were just dying to get in.