AN: Hi. This is my second story. I know it's not Christmas but I really don't give two fucks. I felt like I needed to write this now and not save it till Christmas because I know by then I'll lose the image of what I really want it to be. No, this is not a slash, it's a friendship fic. I got the picture idea from another writer who did something similar to this and the lake idea was his? or her's? So little disclaimer on that.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own anything about modern warfare 2. If I did, every level would be the museum level.
"Meat, Stay safe," Mactavish called out to the retreating form, "If you come back with a broken leg…I'll break your other one, alright mate!"
Meat turned and waved franticly and gave the thumbs up. Ghost merely gave a small, half-hearted salute to the man before Mactavish shut the door.
Meat was supposed to leave tomorrow but his flight was moved to tonight because they were expected a huge stow storm to blow across their area later tonight.
Ghost thought Christmas was the most frivolous, ridiculous idea he's ever heard of, but apparently General Shepard thought differently. Now that Meat was off, only he, Mactavish, and Roach remained.
Speaking of Roach, where was the bugger? Did he already leave without saying goodbye?
"Hey, Tavish?"
"Hm," Mactavish answered, turning towards Ghost's general direction.
"Where's Roach, did he already leave," Ghost wondered. Roach wouldn't do that would he?
"Leave?" Mactavish asked, confused, "He's staying here, mate."
"What," Ghost said, surprised that the young 22 year old was going somewhere and partying for the break. "Doesn't he have a family or friends?"
"Yep."
"Then what the Hell?"
"Don't know," Mactavish shrugged, "ask him."
Ghost sighed and turned towards the barracks hallway and begun walking. As soon as he got to the room Roach shared with Meat, Worm, Royce, and Archer, he opened the door and walked briskly in, not even bothering to knock.
Roach was curled in a fetal position on his bunk and Ghost gently shook him. "Get up, bug."
"No Meat," Roach mumbled, turning towards the wall, "I won't pull your finger, fuck off."
"Bloody Hell, mate. What goes on in here?"
Roach sprung up, hitting his head on the bottom of the top bunk in the process, "Ow…fuck," he said, gently pushing on the bump.
Ghost raised an eyebrow, "Seriously."
Roach glared at him, "Yes, seriously. That's solid metal, sir."
He just called me sir off duty, something's wrong with him.
"I think you hit your head a little too hard there mate, you're off duty," Ghost says dryly, "And besides, Meat went home."
Roach's face mixes with surprise, excitement, and an "I can't believe he didn't say good bye to me" look. "Why," is all he says though.
"Big snow storm, apparently."
"Ah."
An awkward silence fills the room until Roach finally gets the guts to ask the question that's been gnawing at his mind since Ghost walked in, "Why didn't you go home for Christmas, Ghost?"
"Me," Ghost asked, sounding astounded, "What about you? You're 22 and sitting at a military base a day before Christmas Eve, when you could be partying at a bar somewhere." Did Ghost sound nervous?
Roach sighed, "I'll tell you if you tell me."
Without a word, Ghost stormed out.
"Um…okay, bye," Roach says simply, not really thinking much of the outburst, before falling back into the warm embrace of his comforter.
Ghost sat in his bed fuming; he didn't even get to hear Roach's deal before storming out. He was just standing there when suddenly he remembered that day from many years ago; he couldn't be in that room if or when he broke down. Roach would ask what was wrong and he would answer like the idiot he was for ever thinking…
You know, it's about time he had some time to think.
Roach looked out his bedroom window as he was wrapping the gift; he saw Ghost walking quickly towards the lake, which was frozen over.
Wonder what the Hell he thinks he's doing.
Ghost brushed some snow around and sat down and just stared at the lake. Roach continued to look on curiously for about five minutes to see nothing; the lieutenant didn't move once. For a minute Roach could've sworn it was a statue.
Mactavish strolled into Roach's room and looked at him staring at Ghost. Roach looked over with a question about to escape out his lips, but Mactavish merely shrugged, ending Roach's thought immediately.
"Ghost hates Christmas, doesn't he, Mactavish?"
"He has a reason for it."
A young boy, no more than six, stretched out his arms and puffed out his chest. The boy's dirty blonde hair was in a mess and his pjs were crumpled and wrinkly.
'Today's Christmas,' he thought excitedly. He glanced over at his alarm clock; it was six thirty, too early for his parents to get up, or so they said. He then decided he'd do something nice for his parents.
Running downstairs and covering his eyes as he went into the living room, he rushed into the kitchen. He grabbed a chair and climbed on top of the counter and opened a cabinet; taking out the largest bowl he could find, he set it down on the table as he jumped down.
He then walked over to the pantry, his crystal blue eyes scanning the shelves for his ingredients. He pulled out five large boxes of what he wanted and poured them into the bowl. He grabbed the sugar and poured about one cup into the bowl. He then got a wooden spoon from the drawer and began to mix it. When that was done he poured milk in; unfortunately there wasn't enough milk so he poured some water in to make it fuller.
He grabbed a tray from one of the cupboards and put the bowl on, careful not to spill. He then grabbed three bananas and three oranges and three glasses of orange juice and put them on the tray. He carefully lifted the heavy tray over to the table and looked at the clock. 7:15.
"MOMMY! DADDY!" the little boy called out, "breakfast is ready!"
Silence.
"Mommy? Daddy?"
He didn't even bother closing his eyes as he passed the Christmas tree in the living room.
The little boy ran rapidly up the steps, he sporadically fell down every so often.
'Mommy and Daddy are always up by seven,' he thought, 'they're always up.'
As the little boy got closer to his parents bedroom, he could hear the frantic BEEP BEEP BEEP of the alarm going off.
'Why didn't they shut the alarm off yet? It always goes off at seven. That was fifth teen minutes ago," He thought.
He now stood before the white carved doors of the master bedroom; slowly, he grabbed the handles of the doors and twisted, opening them.
He screamed.
His mother, his kind, beautiful mother…
His father, his handsome, smiling father…
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
He screamed again; this time, the neighbors heard him.
Merry fucking Christmas.
Ghost rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to erase the memories. But he knew…he knew. They would never go away. Ever.
He knew that.
He felt a tear slide down his cheek down onto his winter gear jacket. He heard footsteps behind him and quickly wiped the tear away; pulling his mask back on over his blue eyes and dirty blonde hair he said, "Come on out bug, I know you're there."
"Fuck," He heard Roach mutter. "I need to work on my stealth."
Roach plopped down beside him and extended a thin box wrapped in makeshift camo paper.
"What's this?"
"It's a present, it's Christmas," Roach said, "Duh."
Roach squirmed, Ghost needed to pick a better place to break down and think; Roach's ass was freezing.
"Just open it," Roach said frustrated that Ghost was carefully examining it, "It's not going to explode! It's from Mactavish too, then."
"That's exactly why I don't trust it but…Fine," Ghost said, tucking his finger underneath the paper and quickly opening it.
Inside was a picture of everyone in a small silver frame. Mactavish was standing in the front, his arms crossed. Ghost was standing to the right, holding a M4A1 at his side, looking badass; Mactavish's right hand man. Roach to the left, messing around with his combat knife. Meat followed Roach, then Royce, Toad, and then Archer to finish up the left side. Behind me were Worm, Scarecrow, Ozone, and Chemo to finish the right side off. Each one of them was doing something badass. Weather it was a gun, a knife, in their chille suit, it was something. Then Roach got a picture online of a building that they blew up not to long ago in the background. It was still burning and in the sky were dark clouds, getting ready to rain and across the top was a lightning strike.
"And what makes you think that I want this," Ghost responded.
"Because we're a family or some shit, right?"
A ghostly grin formed on the skeleton's face, "I guess we are, aren't we?"
"Merry Christmas, Ghost."
"Merry Christmas, Bug."
AN: Please tell me if it's good or bad. Advice, reviews, and criticism are welcome. KIND criticism. "This sucks" does not fall into any of those categories, sorry to disappoint you trying to disappoint me. XD