[✅] Call of Duty One-Shots

[⚠️ REQUEST] Natural Disasters (Part 2/3) {MacTavish}

Part 2 of 3 for IBelongtoTB1 request.

• • • • •

You stumbled into your room from your long shower, a hand clenching over your heart, gasping for breath. It was a flood of emotions, literally. The images and sounds coming flooding back and you're next to merciless to stop it. Choking out a strangled sound that sounds like a dying cat, you make your way to your bed, tripping and falling into it hazardously. Your hands cover your ears, crying silently as the scene unfolds before your very eyes like a nightmare.

• • • • •

Soap sits in the common room, bouncing his leg as the anxiety builds up inside of him. It's like something is trying to claw its way out of the pit of his stomach up to his throat.

It burns.

It's uncomfortable and almost unbearable. He grunts, shifting on the couch for the fifth time within almost a minute. Ghost closes his magazine, looking at his friend with a raised eyebrow, a question swirling is his brown eyes.

"Well?" Is all he asks in a gruff voice and that's all that Soap needs to be bounding off the couch and out of the room with long strides, his worry eating away at his insides like a beast trapped in a cage. As the door of the common room clicks softly behind him, Ghost crosses his ankle on his knee and goes back to reading silently, shrugging at the small smile Gaz gives him.

"Please be okay. Left. Right. Straight. Walk for a while. Please be okay.... Then a right." His long strides have brought him quickly to your door and he raps on it harshly, not waiting for an answer. He swings the door open and the smell of sweat and fear is heavy in the air.

He can taste it.

The smell of fear mixing with your shampoo. He steps into the darkness of your room carefully, letting his eyes adjust as much as possible.

"(Y/N)?" He calls out softly to you. "Are you a'right bun?" The only sound is shaky uneven breathing. Like gulps of air that are getting choked out of you. He goes to lunge forward but a strong hand on his shoulder makes him falter. He whips his head a little to see Ghost and Price. Ghost shakes his head at Soap, motioning with his head to have Soap step back as Price moves forward.

"You can't come in like a hurricane, Johnny. You'll scare her even more." Ghost is whispering so quietly that Soap has to strain to hear and lean into his words slightly but he steps back out of the room with Ghost to allow Price to work with you. "Let the old man work his magic. He knows what he's doing without making her worse." Soap's nostril flare at his friends words, shrugging his hand off his shoulder with a snort of indifference.

"Are ye' saying that I'd make 'er worse fer'ware?" His agitation getting the better of him has his words coming out with the wrong pronunciation as he reels on his friend, blue eyes yes blazing with anger. Ghost just eyes him silently, crossing his arms over his broad chest, meeting his best friends gaze steadily.

"So, you think flying to her aid like God damned hurricane is going to help?" Ghost's voice is slow. Steady. Unrelentingly steady against the torrent of Soap's emotions. Finally, Soap's shoulder sag a little as he gives in finally.

"No... You're right... I'm sorry." Soap mutters and Ghost's eyes crinkle at the corner but he otherwise remains silent. "I just worry about her." Soap admits softer than he'd like, rubbing his hand over his face before messing up his Mohawk with the same hand in frustration.