#Soap's Reaping is solved... but at what cost

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

This is (probably) the shortest chapter I've ever posted. Just didn't feel right to start another day.

Also my brain is actually melting from uni work please save me

Someone is screaming his name. A voice, loud and muted, clear and rough.

Ghost groans. Colors burst behind his eyelids.

“SIMON RILEY”

He opens his eyes. The world is a mess of fog and stardust. Ladder-like patterns swirl around him.

“Reaper…” he whispers.

“GET UP”

Ghost tries to take control over his shaking limbs. Pain flashes like lightning down his arms, as he slowly pushes himself off the ground.

He looks up at his Reaper, frowning. The realm… it’s… different.

Little moths inhabit the Reaper’s domain, flying around the patterns it creates, landing on its shoulders.

“What happened?” Ghost’s voice quivers.

His Reaper lowers its head to watch him closely, “I WARNED YOU OF THIS. YOU REFUSED TO LISTEN. BARE WITNESS TO THE RAMIFICATIONS OF YOUR ACTIONS.”

Moths startle as his Reaper gestures around them.

“YOU LET THE REVENANT OF DESTRUCTION JOIN YOUR VOID, SIMON RILEY.”

Ghost’s head is thumping a rapid rhythm, and he struggles to comprehend, “what does that mean?”

The Reaper’s eyes glow red, the air around him chills.

“IT MEANS HE HAS REIGN OVER YOUR LIMBO. HE, AND ONLY HE, IS ABLE TO SLAUGHTER YOU THERE.”

The moths swarm around the raging being, their fire casting terrifying shadows over bioluminescent skin.

“FEAR NOT, SIMON RILEY. YOU HAVE STOLEN SOMETHING FROM THE REAPER OF DESTRUCTION AS WELL.”

The world around them starts collapsing, Ghost hypnotized by the Reaper’s eyes, 6 red dwarves exploding in the never-ending universe.

“YOU STOLE LIGHT.

A SWORD AND A SHIELD.

I WILL KEEP YOU ALIVE

FOR NOW

DO NOT FAIL ME, REVENANT.”

Someone is calling his name. A voice, warm and soft, desperate and calming.

“-Simon!”

He hums. Something is feeling his shoulders, neck, lips… the touch is warm, it pulls him back to sleep.

“-Please, please… wake up…”

It sounds so achingly like home. Flames ignite in his chest, and Simon smiles, “Johnny…”

“-Oh Reapers above, thank god!-”

Simon drifts away again, following a lilting voice to a dreamless sleep.

Ghost feels weightless. Almost like he’s still sleeping.

“How far until the safe house?” 

Someone sighs, “3 clicks.”

There’s a hand on his left arm, he notes.

“Bloody hell… we’re too exposed with 2 fuckin’ corpses floating around us.”

“Don’t call them that, hermano… what if they’re really-”

“They’re not dead.” the other person grounds, “Soap wouldn’t be able to drag himself that far otherwise-”

Soap. Johnny. JOHNNY.

Ghost snaps his eyes open, taking the (moving?) night sky for half a second, before snarling and thrashing around.

“Bloody-!” The hand on him retreats, and Ghost drops to the ground with a gasp.

The pain that shoots through his entire body momentarily blinds him. “Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters through clenched teeth.

“Ghost?! Shit, are you okay?” his eyes finally focus on the figures in front of him.

Gaz is crouching, one hand hesitantly reaching for him, the other on a prone person, floating midair just like Ghost was up until a few seconds ago.

Rudy pops up behind him, relief obvious on his features, “are you injured, Fantasma?”

“Where’s-” Ghost hissed as he lifts from the ground, Rudy rushing to support his back, “where’s Johnny?”

Gaz steps to the side, bringing the floating man closer.

“He… hasn’t woken up since we found him.” Garrick gently moves Soap down to the dirt, “only injury I could find on him is this…”

Gaz lifts Soap’s left arm, streaks of black covering his entire forearm, as if someone clawed at it.

Ghost lowers his head, breathing heavily. Limbo, Johnny, his victims scrambling to take his fire-

“YOU STOLE LIGHT.”

“It’s my fault.” Ghost covers his eyes with a trembling hand, “I sent him to Limbo… he was too far to reach… I-” his breaths come out quicker and quicker, “he’s not gonna-”

“He will be alright, Ghost.” Gaz firmly says, “when we found you, you were together. Soap got all the way from the compound to you before passing out.” he sounds so sure, Ghost can’t tell if he’s trying to convince himself as well.

Ghost removes his hand to look at Garrick, who offers him a hand, “c’mon. Rudy knows a safe house not too far from here, maybe the others made it out as well.”

He takes the hand, lifting easily off the dry earth. Rudy supports him when Ghost almost falls back down, his touch cool compared to Las Almas’ air.

Ghost bares his teeth, muttering, “what happened?”

“After you and Soap destroyed the entire compound?” Rudy takes some of his weight as they start walking, “Graves and his Shadows appeared behind us. They tried to capture us.”

“Rounding us up like fuckin’ cattle” Gaz growls.

Ghost groans as his leg gives out, Garrick instantly reaching to help him up, “how did you escape?”

Guilt paints Gaz’s face, “Price ordered me to get you two. I tried to take him with me, but… he refused.” Gaz tilts his head down, hiding his eyes under his baseball cap, “I found Alejandro and Rudy on the way. I was too late.”

Rudy clicks his tongue, “you did what you could, hermano. Ale was pushing me away. Pandejo always tries to save me first…”

A heavy weight in his chest pulls at his insides. “Any… casualties?”

The two men supporting him are silent for a few seconds, “we don’t know.”

They remain quiet as they continue to make their way to Alejandro’s safe house. Ghost’s mind is a cacophony of screams, each thought competing for attention.

Could Graves really kill several dozen of trained revenant operators? How could Ghost not see it, why didn’t he follow his gut for once, and cut off the snake’s head before it could bite?

A voice shouts louder than the rest, mourning his teammates, his friends. Johnny.

He grits his teeth and pushes on.

Ghost has almost forgotten true despair. How lucky he is, life has a way to always remind him.

The safe house’s windows are dark when their little group reaches it. Gaz and Ghost look at Rudy, whose face sours the closer they get to the small building.

Ghost can’t see any tire tracks, footprints, anything to suggest any human has been present in the last couple of days.

“Ale set up some pressure plates at the front doors”, Rudy murmurs, voice lifeless as their surroundings, “I’ll… go take care of that.”

The Vaquero walks ahead, steps more assured than his spirit. Ghost takes the moment to glance at Johnny. He hasn’t moved an inch since Ghost woke up. According to Gaz, he found them over 3 hours ago.

Ghost shoves away the thoughts, that yell that he will never wake up. That it’s all his fault.

The latter are not wrong. He just can’t think about that right now, not without losing what little composure he gained.

Gaz tries to give him a reassuring smile, and Ghost sharply nods in return. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if they didn’t find them, if Ghost woke up and all he had was an unconscious Johnny by his side, baring the mark of his violence.

Rudy waves at them, signaling the way in is safe. Ghost collects his thoughts and drowns them under the physical pain of walking. At least it makes for a great distraction.

“Nobody was here, Rudy.”

Gaz left Johnny on a moth-eaten couch, now standing in the eerily quiet hallway, watching Rudy rush from room to room, attempting to find any signs of life.

Ghost let himself down next to his Sergeant, when his legs started shaking so much he couldn’t stand anymore. Pain still pulses down his limbs with every heartbeat, and Ghost tries to focus on that instead of Johnny’s weak exhales.

Rudy eventually stops, returning to the room they’re all in, eyes tired beyond his years, breath fogging the air more than usual. He looks like he’s barely hanging on at this point. Ghost is sure they all do.

Ghost takes stock of their situation - all Los Vaqueros missing, the Captain, Commander Karim and Keller, status unknown. Location, unknown. Laswell, possibly collaborating on the betrayal. Shepherd, highly likely, not confirmed.

Graves, turned hostile. 

Gaz is tired, he’s been using his powers for hours now. Even if it’s a small task, arms start hurting after you just hold a glass of water after several hours.

Rodolfo… he’s not in any state to fight, exhausted and shaken from the whole affair.

Johnny’s broken. To what extent, only time will tell.

“We can’t make any moves at our current state”, Ghost tries to sound as commanding as he usually does, “we need to rest and recharge. Take turns on lookout, in case anyone tailed us, hostile or not.”

Garrick nods, returning a “yes sir”, but Rudy stares at him for a few moments, conflicted. Eventually he sighs, looking away and heading towards what seems like a storage room.

He comes back out with a pile of blankets and pillows, calling Gaz over to take a pair, and giving Ghost two.

“For Jabón.” he explains as he walks to one of the windows, dragging a chair behind him, “I’ll take first watch. Rest easy, hermanos.”

Ghost feels the blankets for a moment, finding the softer one and wrapping it around Johnny’s still form, with gentleness that is outside his nature. He lifts Soap’s head to slide a pillow underneath, and pauses.

Johnny’s face is lax, unmoving and emotionless, in a way that is so unnatural, Ghost keeps waiting for the moment he opens his eyes, announcing the whole thing as the world’s worst prank.

He takes Johnny’s left arm in his, examining what Limbo left for him as a memory. Fingerprints wrap around his skin, cool to the touch when Ghost brushes over it.

Ghost then remembers Graves’ daft monologue, when shock and rage prevented him from truly processing what he heard.

 “I’ve always wondered just how strong Soap is… after the carnage he left in Verdansk”

He caresses charred hands, their flame extinguished. Like water trickling down his spine, the pieces that make up Soap’s Reaping fall together.

There was never an explosion in a factory, was there, he wants to ask Johnny.

Soap killed Konchar, he got his revenge. The cost, the citizens of Verdansk. 

Johnny is more destructive than any of them could imagine. Ghost looks back at every time he watched his Sergeant using his powers, how hesitant he was of them, almost scared.

He wasn’t afraid to be too weak. He feared he was too strong, terrified of hurting, of hands made for senseless violence.

Hands akin to his own.

Ghost doesn’t sleep. His heart does not calm, his mind doesn’t quiet down. He watches the sun rise, grey skies casting soft light over the barren rooms of the safe house, Rudy long fallen asleep in his watch.

A new day greets Ghost, alone. 

The hurt gotta hurt for the comfort to be good.

[skinbeautystore]

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