roach is the ultimate observer. stays close enough, doesn't speak, besides muted nods and careful signs, so it becomes easy for him to just. watch. he starts noticing the little things, almost making it seem like training - how ghost carefully maneuvers his face and mask while eating or drinking, making it seamless and effortless to anyone who doesn't bother to look deeper, but to gary it's a carefully crafted ritual, practiced and rehearsed, fears bared to the outside world. he knows how much ghost hates closer contacts, despite his obvious (to roach) care and concern when it comes to the well-being of his fellow soldiers. gary sees the way the man hides, constantly on the run, even when there's nothing left to chase him; a paradox -- that the man called ghost is the one that seems haunted. he's also lonely, painfully so, to the degree that his dismissive nature starts ringing off alarming bells in roach's head; that this solitude isn't because of the man's preference, it's a chosen path of protection.
the captain doesn't mind roach's shadow, but the man seems oblivious to the way his sergeant picks up on every little thing he does around him. the way the smoke from cigars is clearly suffocating soap at times, burning in a way that brings no comfort - only hurt. the way he hides bottles in the desk drawer, hoping nobody will notice; but the clang of glass always gives it away. the way he cares, so much it's killing him sometimes, so gary starts trying to ease those worries -- double checks his gear, gives signs each time something happens; starts bringing a well-brewed coffee instead of the shite base provides, hoping it will make john ease off the booze.
ghost is a bit trickier, in a way that makes him seem elusive; a phantom, whether literal or not, he's hard to find and pin down when they have some downtime. it takes a bit of tries, but eventually roach begins slowly putting himself in the man's space, silently inviting him to take the slightest bit of comfort in companionship. eats with him in the quiet corners, at odd hours, just to make sure there are no passersby that would try and sneak a peak at his face. roach himself stays turned away, desperately hoping that his actions are marginally helpful.
they are. their bug takes good care of them, and if he thinks they didn't notice, he needs a bit more training. still, this behavior makes him due for a reward, right? the captain and his lieutenant are happy to return the favor, more than appreciative of roach and his sneaky little gorilla tactics.
