(so, fun fact. I had never been into the call of duty games aside from ghosts. I didn't know soap dies in the original games, and didn't expect them to kill him off in the new ones. The following ficlet is written mid October of 2023 after I had a dream about Soap dying, the first two paragraphs practically recounting what I remember of said dream.)
His lifeless eyes stared up at you as you turned the body over… Soap McTavish was dead. You were in disbelief as you dropped to your knees and brought Soap’s head to your chest, cradling his head gently against you. You feel a presence behind you and a hand on your shoulder, pulling you gently away from the body of your fallen teammate. You turn to the person pulling you away and see Ghost looking down at you with sad eyes as he sees the way you’re holding onto soap, as if you could bring him back somehow.
“Come on, we have to go. We’re not in the clear just because we're not being shot at anymore." He wasn't trying to be insensitive, just trying to keep more people, namely him and yourself, from dying. "We'll come back for him, but for now we have to move!" He insists.
You stand, grief beginning to set in, but nod.
The mission is a success, the only casualty being soap, whose body was recovered shortly after mission completion.
you and the rest of TF-141 were allowed to see him one last time before his body is Cremated. You and ghost go in to see him together, both of you the unspoken emotional support for the other, yet... It still wasn't enough to cushion the pain.
YOU ARE READING
Story bits!
Randoma bunch of unfinished story bits and a couple of poems from my notes app. Enjoy! (DISCLAIMER: There might be a couple of smutshots in this. They will be titled as such, so that you can avoid them if you want.)
