I could still remember the open casket funerals.
Roach was first,
Then Soap.
They looked so peaceful, laying there with their eyes closed. I hoped they where peaceful.
I wasn't Christian by all means, but every night I still find myself at the end of my bed like a child on my knees with my hands placed together - praying, begging that they where in a better place like everyone told me.
"They're in a better place,"
"They'll be happier now,"
"They're watching over you now."
The one that haunted me the most. The one that pained me the most, mentally and physically. I hated the thought of them watching over me, the two I had loved- the two I let into my life, the two I showed myself to without having to mask my emotions and feelings. The two I could be myself around.
The two that had seen me as this tall, unit of a man with little to not emotion now curled up on my bathroom floor with my hand gripping around the collar of my hoodie as the crying turned to suffocating sobs as I screamed and pleaded for them back. How I'd do anything, absoloutey everything for them back. To see them. To have their scent lingering around against my clothing.
It was routine, now, really.
Every night since Soap's death, I would find myself in the bathroom again and again and zoning out into the blank void of nothingness.
Everything felt so real, yet nothing felt real at all. I was disoriented. I was losing my grasp on reality. Roach's death was already unbearable the way it was, I was still fucking recovering - Soap was the only one who could help me.
I looked for Roach in Soap, in his mannerisms, his eyes, his movements until I slowly began to look at Soap as Soap and rather a replacement - and the time, the time I finally thought I had gotten over my grief of Roach, I lose Soap.
The two of them sharing the same fates,
Dying in only arms reach of me.
Where I was capable of saving them, yet what happened?
I thought I would have learnt from Roach, I had done everything and anything to learn from my mistake. I had trained myself. I had ruined myself defending, saving and caring for Soap while he broke down the walls of defense I put up with such ease.
Yet, another mistake. Soap dying in my arms reach, where I could have saved him if I was strong enough - if I had done something he would be here.
The tears fell over and over across my cheeks every night until one night tears just stopped falling. I would simply just curl up like a useless, scared little child that contrasted me as a whole - holding onto the two dogtags that once belonged to Soap and Roach.
"You'll never lose me, L.T."
"You'll never lose me, Simon."
A sentence I was familiar with, a sentence I was so foolish to believe.
I could almost remember the day Roach had said that to me, so gently and so quietly it almost slipped my mind and didn't register in my brain.
Yet now all that remained as a thought in his brain of Roach was the charred body and flesh that was the remainder of Roach.
"Roach, Roach!"
I screamed, my hands scattering around as I grabbed onto Roach's lifeless and heavy arm, hauling his body onto my lap. His skin burned against mine, his face partially burnt yet I could still make out the majority of him.
"Gary," I cried as a last resort, grabbing what was left of his shirts collar and shaking him.
"Fucks sake, this isn't fucking funny! Roach," I screamed despite the plead in my voice, I could feel the heaviness of his chest as he weakly breathed in and out - his eyes slowly closing and opening as he drifted in and out of conciousness.
"I'm sorry, Simon," Roach's voice was a mere whisper, a slight cough followed after before his jagged breathing tangling along his words.
I stared at him, my mind racing and my chest rising and dropping rapidly.
"Fuck? What-"
"I lied. I told you," his voice broke momentarily as he coughed again - the ash and smoke had suffocated his throat and lungs and each breath causing a painful wheeze. "I told you, you'd never lose me."
I shook my head and my words barely came out and more where a mix of mumbles and sobs.
"Gary,"
Roach's breathing slowed down, his eyes soon stopped blinking slowly and when I felt his chest stop rising and dropping is when I stared at him - his lifeless body, his lifeless eyes still open.
The sky was colored a warm orange contrasting into a light peach - Roach's favorite color was orange.
I atleast felt some joy knowing Roach's last moments where under the color he adored the most - the warm orange.
His death caused me to stop smoking,
I couldn't. Not anymore. The smell of smoke alone could make me spiral slightly; the feeling of the gray cloud infesting my lungs was a painful reminder of him.
Soap's favorite color on the other hand was a bright yellow.
It made me slightly laugh despite my heavy sobbing, my eyes bright red and stinging from the continuous streams pillowing from my eyes as my hand shakily looked at the dog tags.
Gary 'Roach' Sanderson.
John 'Soap' McTavish.
"Yellow? Why's that?" I snorted, looking over at Soap who was rolling his eyes as he washed a plate in his palm - the water showering over his pale hands.
"Take a guess," Soap snickered in reply, shaking his head slowly as the sound of the plates clinking against one another on the rack slivered through my train of thought.
"Cause of those fuckin' goldfish crackers, aye?" I chuckled as I huffed slightly, crossing my arms over my chest.
This caused Soap to burst out in his contagious laughter - it caused me to bite my tongue to prevent my laughter. Something about him and his accent made his laugh so enjoyable to hear.
"It's a specific yellow. More of an amber." He chuckled in response as he begun drying the plates.
"One of the first operations with you, couldn't help but notice that your eyes are more amber rather than black." Soap scoffed, as if he was embarrassed in a sense - and, to be honest, Soap was the only one who had noticed this.
I managed to groggily pull myself out of the boucany, rubbing my eyes over and over to try and hide the redness - the stains left on my skin from crying so harshly as I sighed and shook my head - running a hand through my hair before I grimaced.
I needed some air.
As I walked outside the house I once shared with Soap; the house I ideally planned to live with both him and Roach in, I stared out at the sky.
A beautiful sunset; the colors a mix of a deep somber orange that slowly transitioned into a bright, jeering yellow near the horizon as the grass beneath him and the front of the house was washed in an orange and yellow hue.
You two would've loved this sunset.
