More Than Human

Chapter 41: Why I'm Called Ghost

Soap, more than anything, felt violated. It felt wrong to know that his contentment to not learn about his past was not his own at all. But a false seed planted to keep him compliant. And his mind, now free to do so, strayed far into meandering paths and possibilities.

What if he did have parents? Where were they now? Were they even alive? Has he always been a wolf? If he had been rescued from Makarov, what about the other monsters? Surely he wasn't the only one who made it out, right?

He groaned where he lay face down on his pillow. He didn't even notice the sound of Ghost walking into the room and approaching his side. A warm hand on the back of his head was what alerted him to his presence.

"Alright, Johnny?"

Soap rolled his head to the side to look up at him, "Alright, LT. Just thinkin'."

"You?" Ghost teased, "That's dangerous."

Soap chuckled, "Awa' an bile yer heid, Simon."

"Watch it, Sergeant. Now sit up, I brought you food." Ghost gave his shoulder a little shove to prompt him.

Soap sat up and accepted the tray of some sort of cafeteria food. Ghost sat back at the foot of the bed, against the wall, watching him eat. It would probably have made Soap uncomfortable and suffocated if it was anyone but Ghost.

His rampant thoughts must have been evident on his face, because Ghost was speaking to him, "What're you thinking, Sergeant?"

Soap let out a breathy laugh, "Lots of things, Si. I'm sure you could imagine a few."

Ghost hummed, "Suppose I could. Is there anything that stands out?"

Soap thought for a moment, "Maybe. But it's sort of silly."

"Tell me."

"If I'm honest, Ghost, I'm scared." Soap admitted.

Ghost furrowed his brow, "That's not silly, Love. I would be confused if you weren't. I mean, anything could have happened before you were dropped off at that orphanage."

"No. No, it's not that." Soap shook his head, "Well, a bit of it's that. But mostly..." He paused before looking at Ghost intently, "What if I'm different once I remember? I mean, our experiences make us who we are. I like who I am now, Si. I'm scared that I'll change. I want to keep being me."

"You will." Simon said, leaning forward.

"But how can you be sure?" Soap lamented and set the rest of his food aside, appetite gone. He drew his knees up to his chest, "You like me now, Si. And that's been surprising for me. What if you don't like me when I remember?"

Ghost moved forward to sit beside him and pulled him close to his side, letting him press into his body, "I'm not that easy to shake, MacTavish. You're gonna have a hard time getting rid of me. I don't let people in particularly often, but you've managed to become a rare exception to that rule. And to your other question. You want to know how I'm sure that you'll still be you?"

"Hm?"

"Because you're fuckin' stubborn as hell, Johnny. You've got this big personality that you created all on your own. All of the experiences that you do remember have made you this. And I am in a unique position to know that even the worst experiences in this life can't take that away."

He dragged Soap up so that he was seated across his legs, "You know why I'm called Ghost?"

Soap gave him a sideways glance, "I dunno. Ye wear that spooky mask and yer a vampire. Never really thought about it more than that."

Ghost nodded, "Usually people don't. I think they figure I'd never give the whole story anyway. Which is fair, cause I wouldn't tell just anyone. But you aren't just anyone, Johnny."

Soap blushed but sat quietly to listen.

Ghost took a deep breath, "Back when I was turned, I didn't know I had been. Didn't really know how the whole vampire thing worked. But the man who turned me, Roba, he knew. He was a vampire and, well, for a variety of reasons really, wanted to make me suffer. So after some general torture and using me as a food source, he made his move. Did all the steps, bit me, made me drink from a human, made me drink from him, then he killed the human. Brought the corpse to a grave, tossed it in, then turned to me. Shot me multiple times in the stomach and shoved me in with the body. I was buried alive."

"Oh, Simon." Soap breathed.

Ghost nodded, "I died. But I woke up. I was trapped for a good while before I came up with the idea of using the corpse's jaw bone to dig my way out. The worst part was, I used to have a family, and they had all been killed. And I thought that was it for me. I'd be this ageless, bloodthirsty, asshole, forever. I decided that who I was before was gone, still in that grave. Simon Riley was dead. I was just a ghost."

He paused, "And for a while I think that was true. Until I met some people. Worked with a man called Roach for a bit that insisted he could tell I was more than that. Then there was Price, you know how he is."

That got Soap to chuckle, but he stilled when Ghost grabbed his chin and gently turned his face so that he was looking him in the eye. He watched Ghost slowly take off the mask. The man before him gave him a small tightlipped smile.

"And then there was you. You smelled good, and I kept telling myself that the feeling in my gut whenever you were around was annoyance. And, well," He gestured between them, "now you're sitting in my lap, so clearly I wasn't that annoyed after all. My point is, there is no way, in this world or the next, that the man who helped resurrect a ghost could be so easily changed by what's to come."

Soap surged forward and hugged him tight, sliding down slightly so he could press his face to his chest, "Who knew you were such a sap, Simon?"

Ghost hummed at the use of the name as he started to work a tiny braid into his mohawk, "You did that, y'know? I hardly think you're a werewolf, you're a fuckin' necromancer."

Soap laughed at that before parting to press a kiss to Simon's lips.