Call of Desire

14. Safe

safe
/sāf/
adjective
protected from or not exposed to danger or risk; not likely to be harmed or lost.

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After nine days of swift kisses and yearning glances, his doctor had finally given John the all-clear, allowing him to leave. Allowing him to go home.

"You ready to go?" Ghost smiled through his mask.

"Never been more excited to go back to fucking London." John grinned, putting on the clean clothing Price had provided him with. "Looking forward to that drink you promised me."

"Mm." Simon looked longingly at his companion. "Let me help you out of bed." John hadn't been allowed to walk out of worry he would further damage his leg.

Simon had to support most of John's weight as he attempted to stand. He winced on his bad leg, trying to take a step. He yelped as his leg gave out under him, and he would've hit the floor if not for Ghost's support.

"Steamin' bloody fuckin' Jesus," John growled, glaring at his leg, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You're alright, you're alright," Simon mumbled, wrapping his arms around the man.

"I cannae fucking walk, Simon," he muttered.

"That's fine, Johnny." Simon cooed, "We'll be okay. I'll help you." John leaned heavily on the Brit as they meandered out the door. "We're headed home, Johnny. Chin up, mate."

"Home..." Soap craved the idea of a soft, warm bed. "Fuck, I can't wait to have a homemade meal."

"I'll come over and cook for you." Simon offered, making their way out of the lobby.

John beamed. "That sounds lovely." His cheeks reddened slightly as he imagined Ghost wearing an apron while cooking.

"Soap!" Nikolai called as they exited the hospital, a wide grin on his face."Good to see you up and about!"

"Feels good to be able to walk again!" Soap smiled. "Well, mostly."

"You've got Ghost to help with that, though." Nik chuckled, placing a hand on John's shoulder. Ghost's jaw tensed, glaring at where Nikolai's hand and Johnny's shoulder met.

"Hop in the heli, the hospital staff were less than happy that we're taking up half of the car- parking- area. What's the word?" Nik muttered, leading the two men to the helicopter.

"You ready to go?" Price called from within the helo, poking his head out the door.

"Yes, sir!" Soap replied with excitement. Ghost helped John climb into the heli, gently setting him onto a seat. Soap gave him a sweet and thankful smile that nearly melted Simon to his core. He collapsed in the seat beside his companion, exhaling.

Nikolai slid into the pilot's seat, flicking several switches, the engine rumbling to life. "Headed to the nearest airport?"

"No, to Western Cyprus. We have a base there, we'll take a plane from there back home." Price shouted over the noise, sitting in the cockpit with Nik.

"Copy."

Ghost felt warmth in his hand, and looked down to see Soap tracing the scars that covered his hand. It was a strange feeling, not uncomfortable, but not soothing either. But as Johnny continued, working his way up the lieutenant's arm, Simon found himself relaxing into the touch. John leaned into him, his hand sliding back down Ghost's arm, finding his palm again. He ran his fingers over the creases and calluses of Simon's hand, attempting to memorize every part of him.

Perhaps John was still delirious from the painkillers... but Ghost chose to enjoy the moment nonetheless. Simon stared at the Scotsman, watching him caress his skin.

Ghost hated when people touched him... but John was so gentle and caring with his actions, Simon was almost sad when Soap let go of him. Despite the deafening sound of the helicopter engine, Ghost allowed himself to relax for the first time in months.

Johnny stared out the windows of the helicopter, watching the land turn to ocean below them. He jumped slightly as Ghost placed an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Neither man could make eye contact with the other as they settled into one another. John closed his eyes and rested his head on the lieutenant's shoulder.

Price glimpsed back at the two, smiling slightly at the sight. He took Nikolai's free hand in his own, squeezing gently. Glancing at the Captain, Nik pulled Price's arm over, kissing the back of his hand.

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Simon's foot hit the pavement. He stared at the sky, breathing in the cold British morning air. A breeze blew over him, a shiver crawling down his spine.

Home.

"You alright, Simon?" Soap asked, using Ghost for support as he stood.

"Just feels surreal to be back here, really." He stated. They had finally made it back to the United Kingdom.

"Simon, John." Price called, walking up beside the two men. They both turned their limited attention to their Captain. "Take my keys, there's an apartment down the street. You can both stay there until you feel like you can return to base. Get some rest, I'll visit you in the morning."

The men were too exhausted to argue, and Ghost simply took the keys, nodded to Price, and stumbled away.

The walk was short and cold. A comfortable silence had settled between the two.

Ghost shoved the key in the door, kicking it open and leading John inside. The flat was small but modern. It looked well stocked.

"I'll sleep on the couch, you have the bed." Ghost mumbled, helping John toward the bedroom. He pushed the door open, sleepily assisting Soap to the bed. "I'll leave you be. I'll be right outside if you need me." Simon smiled, drowsy.

John yawned, collapsing onto the bed. "Goodnight, Simon."

"Goodnight, Johnny." Simon closed the bedroom behind him. He stumbled over to the couch in the centre of the open-floor apartment, falling onto it. Kicking off his combat boots, he closed his eyes, not bothering to take off his mask.

Soap took off his shoes and shirt, crawling under the soft blanket. He sighed, waiting for sleep to take him.

The silence was too much. For the past two weeks, Ghost had been beside him. He had always been able to hear his breathing. The lack of noise made his skin prickle.

John lay there, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

"Simon?" He called, looking at the door. "You there?"

"I'm here, Johnny." Ghost mumbled through the door, opening it.

"Will you... stay with me? I don't want to be alone."

Simon hesitated, blinking. "Yeah." He bumbled to the bed, collapsing on the opposite side of the bed. "Better?"

"Yes," John muttered, smiling.

"Goodnight, Johnny."

"Goodnight, Simon."