Little SoapGhost oneshots

-" Unfinished Love "- 🥀

My friend insisted I write angst 🙄
MCD
TW: Blood, Goreish

3rd Person PoV:

It had been a rough mission. Starting off with shots fired as soon as they stepped foot out of their vehicle, tied in with Gaz already being out of commission with a bullet in his thigh. Price had split the boys up and, like always, Soap and Ghost ended up together.

Ghost and Soap moved through the building swiftly and as quietly as possible. Task force 141 was trying to get some info on Makarov's next move, unknowingly launching an attack one of his most protected bases.

Multiple enemies were roaming the halls of this building. These people knew the building and they had the advantage in numbers. There were more men in this building than the entirety of task force 141. The only advantage our duo had was some half working night vision goggles that were barely attached to their helmets.

Heavy footsteps were heard rushing down the hall, men were yelling at each other in Russian. Soap was on high alert and Ghost checked his magazine, he was almost out. They had already been fight for the past hour or two, who knows how many men they had taken down.

"Johnny, I need to tell you something." Ghost put a strong hand on the brunette's shoulder, holding him still for a moment, his gloved hands drenched in sweat and smelled of gunmetal. The once white bones printed on the back of his gloves now stained gray with gunpowder

"What is it Simon? We don't have much time, we have to-"

"Just listen. I just... I need to say this just in case we don't get out of this alive." Ghost grip tightens on Soap's vest, holding him as still as possible.

"I love you, John. I have for a while now and I just needed you to know that." The Brit spoke with a shaky voice, his tone serious and heartfelt. Ghost's dark chestnut eyes locked onto Soap's pools of icy blue.

"Oh, Simon... I..." The two were interrupted by a click and a few bounces. As a reflex Ghost was shoved over by Soap and the Scotsman dived, landing over the object, covering it with his body.

With a loud explosion, Soap went limp, his limbs sliding out from under his body. An alarming amount of crimson blood began to  seep through his uniform and pool under him.

"John..?" Spoke a shaky voice. Ghost rushed over and sunk to his knees, putting a hand on his partner's back. There was no motion from the man that lay on the floor.

"Johnny... Johnny speak to me." Still no answer. Ghost hooked his hands under Soap's arms and pulled him into his lap

The blond was hoping, no, begging to see those familiar blue eyes that sparkled with emotion but the only thing he was left with was a blank stare. It was like the life had been completely drained out of them.

"Soap..?" Tears began to fall, soaking into Ghost's black balaclava. Breath caught in his throat, a trembling hand grazed over Soap's torn tactical vest.

Ghost cradled Soap's lifeless body. The smaller man's body was torn to shreds by the shrapnel of the grenade. Many small holes were in his body, a large crater in his mid section. Small chunks of flesh were missing.

Without a word, Ghost stood, still carrying his partner's body. He walked down the halls and managed to not run into a single enemy.

The Brit came stumbling out the front of the building, his blood covered body bathed in sunlight. With heavy steps he walked over to the medical tent set up on the other side of the field.

His figure slowly came into view to Price, who had been sitting next to Gaz because he too got shot. Disregarding the medic's commands he stood and watched as Ghost crept in, holding a corpse.

"Simon, son. What..?" Price limped up to Ghost and looked over the body. There was zero chance Soap could be alive, a hole was torn in his upper torso from the explosion.

Ghost walked over to the nearest cot and set his lover down on the white sheets, staining them red with blood.

"Call off the mission."

"What was that?"

"I said call off the damn mission, Price. Half our team is either injured or dead. Call it off." Ghost turned his back to Price and walked outside the medical tent.

With the click of a radio and some words, it was done. Once Ghost was out of the medical tent, he broke down. Tears fell, breathing became a chore.

Price followed him outside and sat a hand on the heart broken man's shoulder.

"You need to tell me what happened."

Ghost stopped sobbing and turned to his Captain. He peeled off his mask, revealing his face. He was littered with scars, his blond hair was in knots and tears were washing away a line in his eye black.

"He jumped on a grenade... covered it... to save me." The sobs returned and his chest tightened, his eyes squeezed shut.

"It's all my fault."

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Heya y'all! I normally don't write angst ever, so this is probably bad. Anyyy wayyy have a good day/night!

-Your Writer, Raven

Word Count; 883