An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
JOHNNY GETS TURNED ON BY EXPLOSIONS.
That's it. That's the fic. It's also A/B/O for some reason.
Sneak peak below the cut!
“We’re good.” Ghost murmured.
Before Soap could insult him for his stupidity, Ghost exhales softly and fires one last shot. A massive explosion rocks the compound, the charge Johnny set facing them being set off by Ghost’s shot. The other charges followed shortly after in a beautiful chain reaction of explosions as Soap intended. His eyes water slightly from the bright flames, and he blinks a few times, still stunned looking at the collapsing building. A plume of dust and debris mingles with the smoke, painting the evening sky. The resounding boom had his ears ringing slightly, but he was too enamoured at his destruction. His work, his charges, but Ghost, Simon, set them off. He was almost glad his detonator didn’t work, so he could see all his work from such a good vantage point.
His detonator.
The Sergeant’s eyebrows furrow as he looks down at the remote in his pocket that didn’t work. His work never fails him. He opens the back casing and sees the wires cut. Before he could open his mouth to alert Ghost, he recalls the last minute change to his plans, of his Lieutenant telling him to place a charge in sight of his sniper, ‘just in case.’
“Fuck…” Johnny groans, low and nearly purring at the pieces clicking together.
Ghost stands, packing his things efficiently as Soap stands there, still dumbly looking at the flames and smoke. “Down Johnny,” he teases, “let’s go, double time.”
“Yes sir.” Still not turning away fully from the carnage.
Ghost drags him away by his bitch strap, leading him deeper into the woods and towards their safehouse. Soap did not remember a single goddamn thing of that walk except for the acrid smell of gunpowder and the sound of his alpha’s rumbling voice, guiding him through the woods. All he could really think about was how Simon was going to take care of him.
