Okay, think about you and Stg. John ‘Soap’ MacTavish not getting along. At all. You’re both the same rank and joined the task force together around the same time. But he’s just a dick towards you. And because you unfortunately work well together, Price sees no reason to transfer either of you if you can keep the bitterness off the field.
You don’t know why he’s so hostile towards you but you don’t take shit from anyone, so you give it right back to him. Jabbing at some sloppy work he does when he can’t sit still, pointing out any flaws in plans or suggestions he makes. It gets to the point where sparing with each other ther is more a fight than practice.
Now think about how during a mission where you two have been paired up your fighting every atom in your body to be civil, an explosion of sorts happens near your location. Thinking it’s related to the target, you both head that way. When you get there, it’s a shock to not see your target but a confused looking older man. You notice the weapon he’s carrying and raise your own, him responding likewise.
There’s a bit of back and forth between the three of you until you call MacTavish ‘Soap’. The guys freezes and lowers his weapon slightly, asking how you know his name.
Turns out the man is Capt. John ‘Soap’ MacTavish. He explains how he was on his own mission with his team, trying to disarm an unknown weapon. Only when it went off, instead of dying he ended up here. You introduce yourself and John falters a bit, explaining he hasn’t heard your name in a long time.
You three make your way over to the safe house, mission on hold until you can help John get back to his own world. With the mission pause though, MacTavish starts his usual way about treating you, not caring his alternative self is there to watch. Maybe this John also didn’t like you in his universe.
That idea soon flies out the window when an hour later you hear John berating MacTavish loudly for his attitude towards you. Walking into the room they’re in, you rush between them as they’re both in each others face’s, ears red and the veins on their necks prominent.
You curse them both out for being so loud, they could have exposed your position. Both look down at you, MacTavish breathing hard while John looks at you… with something else. You realise your hands are still on their chest so you pull them away, only for John to gently take hold of your wrist and place your hand back on his chest.
His eyes are shut tight and when he opens them, they’re glossy. He whispers about how much he misses you, how sorry he is for everything, how he wishes it was him that was hit instead. Confessing to you the things he wishes he could have said to his lover, the other you.
Your mouth drops open at this revelation, that this John doesn’t hate you, that he loved you, unable to speak in shock. MacTavish takes hold of your other wrist and puts your hand back on his chest, taking a few breaths to steady himself. You don’t know what that means but you stand there, hands on both Soap’s chests.