Chapter Text
Joy wasn’t something people associated with the Ghost.
Up until about a year ago, Ghost assumed he was incapable of joy. Simon felt joy. But Simon had been killed along with his family on Christmas Eve, leaving just a husk. A Ghost.
At least, until Soap.
Until Johnny.
Soap was the sun. It was scientifically impossible for anyone not to be warmed by his light. He managed to resurrect Simon.
After the ordeal with Hassan, Soap even got him to celebrate Christmas with the team for the first time in years. The 141 hadn’t been able to go home last year, or to whatever constituted as home for them these days. But Soap had decorated their rec-room and planned dinner and games and fun for his three teammates.
And if he and Ghost had shared their first kiss under some mistletoe late at night on Christmas Eve, that was between the pair of them.
Soap had managed to give Ghost an impossible gift. Joy. For the first time in years, everything felt like it might turn out alright. That maybe he could, they could, do more than just die to a stray bullet. That maybe, they had a future beyond the military.
Until that gift was gone.
Taken.
His Johnny.
It had been weeks now since it happened. Ghost was still waking cold and clutching at the empty space in the bed. He couldn’t sleep without seeing Soap’s bleeding form on the ground. Meekly hoping Price and Gaz would fail to defuse Makarov’s bomb. That something would just put Ghost out of his misery.
Without Johnny, Simon couldn’t exist.
Price and Gaz mourned him. They coped in their own way.
Gaz did his best to keep their spirits up. To be the support and light that he knew Soap would have wanted him to be. Price was different. More quiet. He kept to himself. Ghost knew he was probably haunted by his failure to protect one of his boys. But, he kept his head down. Paperwork, missions, intel. He wanted to avenge Soap. Find Makarov and put him down once and for all.
But both Price and Gaz were concerned about Ghost.
Ghost just seemed to stop feeling anything during evac after what happened. He was, somehow, even more broken than he had been before. Nothing they tried seemed to give any sort of reaction. He was a quiet machine. He did his job and nothing more. Never offered corrections to recruits. Spoke only when he absolutely had to. Completed the mission objective and filed the reports without taking any actual interest in the purpose of any of it.
“I’m worried about him, Sir. I know what they had was special, but I know Soap wouldn’t want him like this. I feel like I have to do something.” Gaz confided in their Captain one day.
Price was seated at his desk, going over some fresh files that Laswell had sent him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning to Gaz, “I don’t like it either, Son. But… if I’m honest, I don’t think Simon is coming back from this. He risked his heart on MacTavish, and I think this has ruined any chances of him doing it again. John was special, you know it as well as I do, Kyle.”
Gaz swallowed and slumped on the seat of the couch in Price’s office, “This is no way for him to be remembering him though, Sir. Don’t you think Soap would have wanted him to be happy? To try again?”
Price gave him a sad smile, “He would. God knows that if he could, MacTavish would come down from wherever he ended up to knock some sense into him. But, Ghost will never listen to us the way he listened to him. It’s… it’s just different.”
Kyle nodded and they sat in silence for a moment, the only sound that of the little wooden clock that Soap had gotten the Captain last year for Christmas. It had little golden inlays with engraving on it. The initials of the team members, the 141 insignia, and a little ashtray in the side. He was a thoughtful gift giver. Gaz’s eyes landed on it and he gave a somber smirk.
“Doing anything for Christmas this year, Sir?”
Price looked back up at him again and shook his head, “Nothing. Just here. With what’s left of my family.”
Gaz blushed slightly and fiddled with his fingers on his lap, “You think we could, maybe, spend it together? As a team again? I think that would be good for us. I think that’s what he would have wanted.”
Price stood and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Of course he would. And of course we can. Just, don't hold your breath for Simon making an appearance. I don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
Gaz nodded, “Yes sir.”
Kyle spent a bit more time in the soothing environment of Price’s office. Eventually he worked up the courage to start pulling the base’s Christmas decorations out of the storage closet. It was a bit of a somber affair. The boxes had all been cleaned and organized by Soap at the end of last season. All the boxes were neatly labeled in his handwriting. A few little doodles of lights and bows and things to signify what was in each box. It was clean, just like everything he did.
Gaz trailed his fingers over the indentations the pen had made on one of the boxes. He worked carefully to start decorating the base, paying extra attention to the 141 rec-room. Soap had bought them a large fake tree. He found it at a second hand shop for a “great deal” according to him. It was old and dusty and a few of the branches drooped, but it made Gaz smirk and shake his head at the memory of Price’s face as Soap proudly hauled it inside.
He set it up in the corner of the rec-room, unloading the boxes of assorted ornaments he had kept. Many of them were ones that he had made himself. A few were made by the other members. Soap had roped them all into decorating and making personalized ornaments as a “bonding activity.”
Decorating the tree made him smile, and laugh, and by the end of it all, cry. As positive as Gaz tried to stay, he missed his brother so goddamn much.
He wiped a few stray tears as he removed the final ornament from the box, a full sized bar of soap the man had attached string to as an ornament. It was Irish Spring. The very thing Soap always seemed to smell of. Gaz held it to his nose and took a deep breath before whispering a soft, “We’re lost without you, mate.”
He hung it in a place of prominence on the tree and stepped away, looking at his work. The room was festive and cozy and Gaz hoped that Soap would have approved.
He was returning the boxes to the closet, putting them back exactly as he found them, wanting Soap’s organization to remain as he had wanted. As he was sliding everything back into place his eyes caught on a box tucked beside one of the shelves, nearly out of sight. He tilted his head at it, not sure what other decorations could have been inside. It was out of character for Soap to have put something out of reach and in a confusing spot.
Gaz carefully dragged the large box out and read the label.
“SOAP’S TOP SECRET PRESENT BOX! KEEP OUT!”
His eyes widened at the little note before carefully opening it up to find it filled to the brim with festively wrapped Christmas presents and a few in birthday paper. He pulled a couple out and found their names and their friend’s names written on all of the tags.
Kyle felt his eyes well up with tears and he let out a watery laugh. Of course Soap had been the type to buy gifts throughout the year.
“Tav… you crazy bastard…”