@lt-ghxst continued from a meme response [ x ]
As far as missions go, Roach considered this to be a pretty dry cut one. His ribs ached and creaked with every breath, and the plate in his armor had caught one too many rounds and was probably needing a replacement but - but it had been a success, mission completed, and Laswell was pleased with the results, happy that they'd gone in and gotten out with minimal damage, and all the needed intel at their fingertips...
The flight back should have been easy. A tired, but successful team bumping each other on the shoulders and exchanging pleasantries but instead -
Ghost's bad mood rolled off of him in waves, and Roach found himself swimming against a rough current to even get close. The Lieutenant's quiet and intimidating, but often welcoming air completely shut down - that rip current Gary always found himself in while getting close turned into a dangerous, off putting one - like the ocean during a rough storm. Rogue waves crashing down on him every time he attempted to catch his gaze, or even a fraction of his attention.
No, the flight back had been horrendous, and on base? Things were worse. The turning in of their weapons at the armory turned into a long, awkward silence that made even the poor sod on duty sweat out of nerves. Soap bumping his shoulder and giving him a friendly, but silent 'good luck' as he trotted off somehow sealing the deal, making the moment worse because - because -
Gary Sanderson was so used to Ghost at his side, playing back and forth into a dynamic that few understood that, without it, in the silence that was the absence of their close friendship, he felt like a child again. Lost in his grandparent's home, waiting for the sound of tires on gravel that would never come.
And, much like a child, Gary doesn't know what to do but to follow Ghost. Ignoring the watchful gaze of their captain as he neglects to turn in the rest of his gear, property of Crown & Country, and instead totters after the bigger man with a concealed frown. Tasting grit on his teeth and tongue, and ignoring the cold stiffness of his fingers as he pulls his goggles up and onto his helmet, as he drags dirt and the thick smell of combat through the base, to the secluded room Ghost had claimed for himself long before Roach had been recruited.
If he's surprised that the door doesn't slam in his face, Roach doesn't show it. Gaze unwavering in its focus on Ghost as he asks what he assumes to be a fatal and stupid question - until that is, the other man's hands begin to move and instinctively, he looks to see what he's doing. Lips parting in a small but profound expression of shock as Ghost signs somewhat aggressively at him. His motions are short, and angry, and to the point - lacking a real explanation to his mood other than emotions that Roach can only squint his eyes at and a reprimand he knew he'd be getting anyway, because he had been reckless - but no more reckless than the rest of the One-Four-One when it came down to it, no more reckless than Ghost was on every fucking mission.
Gary inhales, deep enough that his ribs creak angrily, that he can't help but wincing at the reminder of his own foolhardy behavior. Mildly shaky hands raising, and then hesitating as he searches for the right words, eyes flicking between Ghost's hands, and the other man's too intense gaze as he thinks, and thinks of a proper way to respond. More than a little confused at the other man's aggression, and his sudden use of sign.
'I don't know what you want me to say - I ... was doing what needed to be done. I was doing what you would have done in my shoes. And it worked ... right? We got it done and everyone's okay.'
