- Alec - 34 - FTM Trans - - Gay/Demi-romantic w/ trust issues - - AuDHD & cPTSD make a wild combo! - I love One Piece, Stargate, FF XVI, GhostSoap & almost anything sci-fi or fantasy.
Okay but imagine being the team of Eridian scientists tasked with keeping Erid's Only Human alive for as long as possible while the whole planet's environment is literally trying to kill him. And then Rocky shows up and is like:
âGrace says he would like half of dome to be water.â
âOh, is necessary for humans to have large amounts of water question?â
Small Eridian equivalent of a sigh. âNo. Not needed for life. In fact Grace will die if he falls in water and does not get out.â
âTell him we give him water in containers that won't kill him. Lots lots lots of water on Erid for Grace to drink.â
âNo. Grace say he want water on ground. Also want it with excess sodium chloride compound so it will be unhealthy for drink.â
To celebrate Erid getting their sun back on track, Grace asks for some alcohol. There's a small amount left from the Hail Mary and Rocky offers to take it to the science Eridians to see if they can synthesise more.
âGrace want this liquid for celebration.â
âOf course.â They scan it. âYou have wrong liquid. This contain compounds which are poisonous for humans.â
âYes yes yes. Grace say humans like feeling of being slightly poisoned.â
There's always a moment of intense cultural whiplash whenever I realize I'm talking to someone who thinks "legal" and "illegal" are meaningful categories and ascribes innate goodness to following the law. It's like meeting a space alien.
All the time travelers are hiding out on February 29th, 1900: The day that didn't exist.
See, 1896 was a leap year. 1904 was a leap year. But 1900 wasn't, because the rule for leap years isn't "every 4 years" but "every 4 years, except every 100 years, except except every 400 years".
So 1900 wasn't a leap year. A lot of people at the time didn't know that, and they wrote down the date as 02/29/1900... the US government still has the weather records to prove it. We have recorded temperatures and rainfall on a day that didn't happen.
But if you need to find a time traveler, that's when they're hiding.
for the ficlet requests, ghoap where they both get injured on a mission and they're in the same hospital room and trying (maybe failing) to share the same bed
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Ok this got away from me. 2k words of lighthearted sillies below (thank you for sending this, it was a fun little exercise <3)
âFancy seeinâ you here, LT.â Soap grins, planting his feet firmly on the ground and undoing the hoist line. He holds the extra harness out for Ghost to step into. Poor bastardâs got to be beyond tired. Middle of the night hoist rescue training will do that to a manâespecially after just getting back from a three week long op. This is the first time Soap has seen him in nearly a month.
âJohnny.â And fuck him, he can hear the smile in his voice, see the soft crinkle of brown eyes from the harsh spotlight of the bird hovering above. âAll the others up there too scared to take this one?â
This go around, itâs officers waiting on targets throughout the airfield with lower ranks doing the ârescuingâ from helos, and dare he say itâs going much smoother than last month when theyâd done the reverse. But itâs too early (late?) for feelings of such smugness.
âPlease, sir, a free chance to get my legs around ye? Everyoneâs been climbinâ over each other to be the first ones done and back to bed. Practically had to beg one of the cunts to trade me.â
âHm.â That smileâs still there.
Christ, Soap has missed him. He canât help the easy grin, the flirting, the falling back into the natural rhythm of them.
Once the harness straps are situated over Ghost and the hoist line clipped back on, he gives the lift signal and moves their slowly ascending bodies into the safety position: his thighs snugly around Ghost's waist, just like heâd been excited for. The heels of his boots press into the back of strong calves. Secure. Hot. Perfect. Highly fucking unprofessional, but hey.
âSlept any since gettinâ back?â
Ghost shakes his head.
âWell, donât worry your pretty head about it. Weâll have ye rescued and tucked in bed soon.â
âMy hero,â Ghost deadpans.
The furthest thing from his mind is the possibility of jerking to a halt mid-air, but suddenly here they are. Jerking to a halt. The rope goes more and more tautâhe can feel the tension winding up. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He flips his mic on, ready to shout up that somethingâs wrong, when they begin free fall. All he can think is, âThis is it.â Thereâs no way they donât snap their necks or spines, even in full kit.
He thinks he yelps out a bloodcurdling âfuck,â or maybe thatâs Ghost, or maybe itâs both of them in harmony.
And then they stop with an excruciating jolt, cable twirling them in the air as the slack straightens out. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, but is a simple training exercise really too much to ask for? Itâs always fucking something, isnât it?
They both groan, and Soap has definitely broken his collarbone against the harness if the agony is any indicator. Theyâre both going to have bruises from the strapsâwill probably look like they proper tied each other up and had a good time. And he hears it.
The ripping of the cord above them.
He tightens his legs around Ghost because he knows the rest is coming. Ghost knows too; slides his arms around Soapâs back and pulls his helmet clad head forward into his chest.
And all Soap can think is, âHeâs trying to save you.â
âMacTavish, thought I told you to stop terrorising my patient,â the medic says, entering the room to check something on the computer and seeing him perched on the foot of Ghostâs bed. Again.
âRuby, love, am I not your patient too? Besides, Ghost, am I terrorising ye?â
âAlways.â
Soap rolls his eyes.
âDonât Ruby, love, me,â she says. âGet to your own bed so my aide doesnât have a heart attack every time he comes in to monitor you and sees an empty spot where a bastard should be.â
âDinnae think I need to be monitored. How could I have a concussion if this knight in spooky armour broke my fall? And we were in full kit.â
Ruby groans, rubbing her temples in what appears to be a growing headache. âYou know protocol as well as I do. Unless youâd like me to transfer you to Hereford County. Iâm sure the wait alone would be a hundred times better than here. Not to mention them having to go through every single thing in your chart with you, including that timeââ
âAlright.â He does the walk of shame across the room to his own bed, Ghost watching silently amused through the whole exchange. Ruby seems satisfied enough to step back out.
Soap settles the best he can with his arm in a sling and a bruised body. Itâs fine. This is fine. Itâs just that heâs been waiting weeks to pester Ghost, and here he is, here they both are, stuck in the same room after a bloody insane cock-up of a training exercise. Perfect opportunity for pestering. And like a magnet, like a planet escaped from his orbit and now suddenly returned, he wants to be as close to him as possible.
Especially after Ghost purposely took the brunt of the fall for him like that.
Some equipment inspector better be getting the chewing out of a lifetime for not thoroughly checking those lines.
âHow many times was that again?â Ghost asks, referring to Soap being admonished like a child.
âOnly the third.â The first time, Ruby had been much nicer about it.
Ghost makes a noise that is definitely not a laugh, because laughing hurts his cracked ribs. He watches him try to suppress it with a sick sort of satisfaction. Just got back to base only to get into a training incident, running on fuck knows how long without sleep, and Soap is amusing him. Nobody else gets the privilege of seeing him like this. So unguarded, so Simon. Gaz and Price, to an extent, but not the way Soap has him. Heâs seen the differences. Never lets himself think too hard about what that might mean.
When Ghost winces from the pain, he shoots to his feet once more. Christ, he just needs something to do.
âThereâs gotta be lidocaine patches in here somewhere.â He opens a random drawer.
âAlready got one on, Johnny.â
He rifles through the drawer anyway.
âWhy donât ye have a kip? Weâll be here till noon, at least.â Theyâve already been here an hour. Base will be serving breakfast soon.
âBeen a bit much goinâ on in here to sleep.â Ghost looks at him pointedly.
"Aye, well." He shuts the drawer. Opens another one. "Sorry."
"You're not."
Heâs not. But Ghost doesnât say it in any way other than fond.
When Ruby steps in again, instead of a fourth reprimand, she simply gives him a blank stare before turning on her heel and leaving. Right then. Seems sheâs reached her Soap MacTavish limit for the day. Good.
His feet take him back over to stand beside Ghostâs bedâgravitational pull and all that.
âHavenae said how the op went.â
Ghost sighs, looking like heâs resigning himself to zero rest and having no qualms about it. If Soap didnât know any better, heâd say he missed him just as much.
âSwimmingly. Probably got flesh-eating bacteria from just how swimmingly.â
Just then, a med-team rushes in, strips the sheets off Soapâs abandoned bed, replaces them with fresh ones, and deposits some unlucky cunt in a back brace on top. Looks like they're not the only accident prone soldiers tonight.
âUh,â he says, looking to where Ruby stands overseeing in the doorway. She silently points to Ghostâs bed, and goes to her new patient, pulling the privacy curtain as far as it will go.
Ghost scoots his legs over to the side, making room for him to sit.
Heâs not a blusher but if he wasâŠ
He perches on the edge of Ghostâs cot just like how heâd been earlier, like nothing is different now and he hasnât just been exiled from his own bed and consolidated to Lieutenant Simon Ghost Rileyâs without a word of protest from anyone, including himself. Jesus Christ.
âAnyway. Ye were saying about flesh eating bacteria.â
He looks over to Ghostâs face in expectation of a quip, but it doesnât come. Instead, his head is resting back against the pillow, eyes closed, breathing even with the rise and fall of his chest clad down to his base t-shirt layer. His balaclava is on but no trace of grease paint or dirt. Looks like he had right enough time to shower and head to the airfield after getting back from his op.
Harsh lines all smoothed out, just for Soap.
The room is comfortably cool for him, which means Ghost is probably getting cold, but theyâre both sitting on top of the blanket. He opens his mouth to ask whether he wants to cover up, but thinks against it last second. Still, his lips parting and smacking shut make a wet noise that has Ghost peeking an eye open.
âNot asleep. Donât have to be quiet, Johnny.â
Something in his chest melts at that.
âYe almost were,â he tries to say just as softly.
âMaybe.â Blond lashes flutter shut again.
It looksâenticing. The way the tension has bled from him, the lure of sleep after a night of far too much excitement, even for him.
He decides he doesnât need to ask. Simply stands up to tug the scratchy blanket out from under Ghostâs arse and legs, and then feels guilty when he grimaces from the friction against his bruised backside. Ghost had landed mostly on his back with Soap pulled safely in on top of him. Fucking lucky he didnât break his spine, the absolute numpty.
Soap pulls the blanket over him and hesitates. Well. Heâs already here.
Ghost, without even opening his eyes, budges over the rest of the bit he can without tumbling out. Soap has to bite his tongue so he doesn't say something stupid and lovesick, takes the offered spot, and pulls the blanket up over both their legs. Orâover Ghostâs legs and the one of his own stretched out on the bed. The other is dangling off, foot braced against the floor.
Itâs a wee cot. They are not wee men.
âFinally feel like resting now, do you, Johnny?â
âShh,â he shushes. Thereâs no heat in itâthereâs not much of anything in it, really. Heâs already gone soft and shapeless here pressed against Simon Riley.
Ghost huffs, and he can feel the resulting flinch from the action. Wishes he could take some of the pain for himself, aside from his measly broken collarbone.
âI was the one meant to be doinâ the saving, ye ken.â He lets his head fall gently against the steady shoulder beside him, careful not to nudge his ribs, and immediately goes all fuzzy and warm in the brain. The day, the weeks, finally catching up.
âInstinct I reckon, Johnny.â Itâs barely a whisper, and heâs not sure his dozing brain doesn't make it up entirely, but in the next moment he swears thereâs a press of lips to his hair.
Gaz is laughing at them.
They almost died, and Gaz is laughing at them.
Soap surfaces slowly, dragged up out of the best sleep he's had in weeks by the sound of badly stifled cackles near the foot of the bed. Great.
He pries one eye open. Gaz is standing there with a tray of breakfast in one hand, and his phone in the other, the absolute traitor, grinning like Christmas has come early.
"Garrick," Ghost warns like heâs willing the universe to just let the peace last a while longer.
"I haven't even said anything," Gaz manages.
"You're wheezing it loud enough."
Soap doesn't move, doesn't dare, because he knows his neck is going to ache like the devil from falling asleep at this angle. Heâd wanted some of the pain and he guesses he got it. It's absolutely going to be worth it. Would have been worth it for even a few minutes snuggled up next to this man.
âI just wasn't aware this was an option. How do I not get a bedmate next time Iâm in medical?â Gaz is really cracking himself up.
âEasy. Just don't piss Ruby off,â Soap mutters, nuzzling his nose against Ghost despite it all.
Like clockwork she appears.
âDonât let him lie, Garrick. Just gave them exactly what they wanted.â
Iâve been seeing all dis stuff about MWIV and so god help me-
I just wanna live in my delusional little world where Soap isnât dead, Price hasnât gone rogue, Ghost isnât hunting down his Captain, and Gaz isnât lost in fucking action!!
I just want them to be safe and alive and in one piece. I will continue to live in this little world that Iâve built for myself. đđ
