Soap was huffing and puffing. Pacing around their room while Ghost sorted out their gear, trying to work out some nervous energy. It honestly wasn't really working. His thoughts were racing and he sort of wished they could go back to a day ago before any of this fucking happened. Back when Graves was still dead and Makarov was still in lockup.
Back when he was still safe from the two people who had haunted his dreams.
"Johnny."
Soap's head flicked up to where Ghost was looking at him over his vest.
"Go sit down on the bed. You're just going to get yourself more worked up."
Soap wanted to argue at first, but he stopped himself. Ghost was probably right, as usual. He did feel slightly worse since he had started pacing. He walked over and plopped down on the mattress with a little bounce. He sat with his legs crossed, but he really just couldn't keep himself still. His knee began to bounce rapidly up and down as he continued to watch Ghost work. At a certain point he began rocking back and forth, making the bed creak slightly.
He tried to keep his breathing slow, closing his eyes to focus on it. But he was just met with the sight of Graves aiming a gun at him, the feeling of a silver bullet lodging into his arm. Or Makarov standing over him with his scientists, watching him writhe and seize as the silver ate at him from the inside out.
Rudy had been having him hum with him when he was anxious about eating, so he found himself doing it now. It was less mystical without Rudy's quiet tones beneath his own, but he did it anyway. A tune he had vaguely remembered his mother humming to him and his siblings before everything went to shit.
He was suddenly met with strong arms wrapping around him and he was getting pushed back onto the bed.
"Simon?"
"Sh, sh, sh." Ghost urged, "Relax."
Ghost was practically laying on top of him, holding him snug. Simon was fucking heavy, that was for sure, but Soap found himself relaxing afterall. The massive vampire was warm from a fresh feeding, and the consistent pressure across his body was extremely comforting and he soon found his body going completely limp beneath him.
"Better?" Ghost asked after a couple of minutes.
Soap sighed, contentedly and a bit sleepy, "Aye. Thank ye, Si."
Ghost let out a deep hum and Soap rumbled right back as he felt it work through his whole body.
"M'sorry."
Ghost angled his head down to look at him, "Hm?"
"Fer freakin out on ya. Ya must think I'm a right dobber."
Ghost shot him a look, "I'm not even gonna bother with an 'English MacTavish'. Based on the structure of that sentence I'm going to assume you're being negative. And you're always telling me not to do that. Play by your own rules, Sergeant."
Soap chuckled slightly, "Aye, Sir."
"Good boy."
Soap shivered and burrowed further into his warmth, "Didja finish with the gear?"
"I'll finish in the morning before we leave. Wanna hold you for a while." Simon gruffed.
"Bet yer blushin' beneath that mask, arentcha, LT?"
Ghost gave a noncommittal grunt, hugging Soap closer. After a few heartbeats he readjusted them so that he could press his face into his mohawk. He was feeling anxious as well. He didn't ever want to see Soap under the effects of silver poisoning again. The whole situation stressed him out.
He spoke into Soap's hair, "I'd die a second time before I let them hurt you again."
Soap tensed slightly, "Don't fuckin' say that shite, Simon. I won't have it."
"But it's true."
"Nae." Soap said firmly, "You wanna keep me alive, you stay that way too. Not sure if I could go on without ya, I've become quite the dependent creature."
"Johnny-."
"No." Soap looked into his eyes earnestly, "Neither of us are goin anywhere."
"Alright, Puppy."
"Say it."
"Neither of us are going anywhere."
Soap gave a satisfied nod before pressing his face into Simon's chest, gripping onto the fabric of his sweatshirt to make sure he stayed right there.
"Don't suppose I could convince you to stay here with Nikolai?" Ghost asked.
"Nope."
"Didn't think so."