A/N: First of all, this fic stays true to the Parody genre. I couldn't go through ten minutes without laughing at myself for writing this. Anyway, yeah. This is intended to be a non-slash story (which is a first for me), but it's slash if you want it to be, heh :)
It's not slash! Seriously! xD
This was inspired by a work of art by Eolianus, Happy Family (it's also the cover photo for this fic), and its link shall soon be put up on my profile. All her works are beyond awesome *_* and what made me decide to write this one day of feeling bored and hungry for a one-shot idea.
Oh, and I did absolutely no research on anything, so if any fact comes out wrong, excuse my ignorance P:
"I'm glad that you've decided to stop by our childrens' home, sir," the old lady said, her lips curling into a warm smile. "Whoever you choose to adopt today, you will change their lives forever."
Soap nodded, unsure how to respond. This was crazy. Everything was crazy. He didn't know what the hell drove him to go and look up whether it was possible to adopt. He didn't know how the hell his request was approved. He couldn't even believe that, there he was, about to go look for a child to adopt. It's official—John MacTavish is insane.
But the thought didn't make him turn around and leave.
Instead, Soap forced a smile and stepped inside. "I'll end up changing my own life, as well," he told her with a dry chuckle. "Getting a child…"
"Anyone specific, sir, or would you like to walk around?"
"I—uh, I'll take a look around," Soap said nervously, and followed the elderly woman as she led him into the large home for orphaned children. As he walked in, cries and laughter filled the atmosphere, and it just added to the anxiety building in him. If he did decide to adopt today, this same crying and laughing is what he'll be hearing for many years in his life.
"I understand that you don't have a partner, sir," the lady started.
"Er—yes, that's true."
"Then what drove you here? Has it always been in your mind to be a father?"
Soap bit his bottom lip. "Not really. It's just too quiet in the house." He remained silent for a few minutes, before admitting, "I feel empty."
The honest confession elicited a soft laugh from the old woman. "You won't be feeling that way for long, my boy. I'm surprised—the singles who come to adopt are almost always women. It's always a pleasure anyway, to see a man kind-hearted enough to stop by and change a child's life for the better."
"I'm not sure if I can be a good parent, but I'll try," Soap smiled wryly.
"I'm sure you'll be a good father," she assured. "You sound like one. I can tell you're a great leader, perhaps a fatherly or brotherly figure to many. Men like that are wonderful parents, as well."
At that moment, they walked past a room with an open door. A child crawled out just as they were passing by. For some reason, that particular child caught Soap's attention. He stopped and stared at the little boy, who, in return, stared up at him with imploring, inquisitive eyes.
The old lady realized he stopped walking and turned around. She smiled and said, "Why not try and lift him up, sir?"
Soap looked at her, slightly startled, and then hesitatingly looked back down at the baby. He couldn't be any older than three. Still, he was just the most adorable thing Soap's ever seen—blond hair, bright emerald eyes and plump, rosy cheeks. Slowly, he crouched down. In response, and much to his surprise, the boy gave him a grin, baring his growing teeth, and held his arms out, as though urging Soap to carry him.
Slightly assured by the baby's reaction, Soap lifted the baby and cradled him in his strong, muscular arms. As he hoisted the child and stood up, the little boy giggled, his childish expression of mirth sending warm tingles all over his body. He realized at that moment that the boy in his arms was the most precious thing he'd ever held.
"Hello…" Soap said, almost subconsciously, as he smiled softly at the baby.
The toddler's soft hands groped about his face, eliciting a chuckle from Soap. He seemed comfortable being in Soap's arms, and after satisfying his curiosity as to who was carrying him, the baby looked at the old lady, then back to Soap.
"His name is Gary Sanderson," she informed him, an affectionate smile spreading across her wrinkled face as she laid eyes on the toddler. "Two-years-old, father passed away before he was born and mother abandoned him at a church before disappearing last year. He has no relatives, so he was brought here."
"Poor kid," Soap said sympathetically, frowning a bit. But the frown disappeared as he looked back at the child. Shifting the weight onto his left arm, Soap used his right hand to carress the baby's cheek. "Gary Sanderson, eh?"
The little boy's short, fragile hands wrapped around Soap's finger, slightly surprised at the giant hand which popped out of nowhere to touch his cheek. He held on tightly to the finger and shook it, and when Soap chuckled, the baby giggled, now realizing the hand was friendly.
"You seem content with him," she remarked, inquiry in her voice. "Is this the child you'd like to adopt?"
The question brought Soap back to reality. The realization of everything setting in was heavy in his chest. He wasn't sure what to say, but he never felt so happy in his life—just to have the little boy in his arms. There's no denying that he would like very much to bring the boy home and watch him grow.
Just one sentence. That's all it took to change his life forever.
Soap sighed, and gazed into the boy's eyes. The innocence and hopefulness glinting in the large, round orbs was enough to wash away all doubt and anxiety. A genuine smile of happiness played across his face, and the little one smiled, too.
"I'm taking you home," he whispered, not regretting a single word.
Ghost burst in through the door, panting as he just ran all the way from work in frenzy. As he entered, he saw two people immediately.
He stared at the toddler, his eyes widening behind his sunglasses. Soap was sitting on the coffee table opposite the sofa where the baby was, a dream-like and stupid grin plastered on his face, as he looked from the baby to his best friend and housemate.
"Back so soon, Riley?" Soap said simply, his voice indicating that the Scotsman was still half-engrossed in a reverie.
Ghost was just speechless. He stared at his friend in disbelief, unsure whether his eyes were playing tricks on him. It wasn't April Fools, nor was it his birthday. Ghost didn't even pull off a stupid prank on Soap lately that may drive the other to find a good way to get back at him. So what the hell was going on? He's almost sure it was not just another one of his hallucinations. Luckily, he still had the balaclava on, which hid his surprise.
"I was sure you were shitting me when you called at work and told me you adopted a kid!" Ghost breathed out. He approached them, eyes glued to the blonde child on the sofa the whole time. "Bloody hell, he's real. I'm not dreaming. You adopted a boy!"
"Gary Sanderson," Soap introduced. He looked at the child and pointed to Ghost. "This is your uncle, Simon Riley. Otherwise known as Ghost."
Soap redirected his gaze to his flabbergasted friend. "This boy's nickname is Roach. That's 'cause when I brought him home a few hours ago he grabbed a cockroach with his bare hand and squeezed the poor thing to death. I'm just happy I stopped him before he could put it in his mouth."
Ghost would've been revolted by the story, if only he could get a hold of himself. "Do you know what the hell you're getting yourself into?"
"Of course," Soap replied nonchalantly, picking up a bottle of warm milk which Ghost hadn't noticed was there before. Shaking it, Soap gave the bottle to Roach, who began to drink contentedly.
"You realize that we live under the same roof, right?" Ghost reminded him. "It means that whether you like it or not, I'm still going to be his unofficial guardian!"
Soap gave him a small smile. "Come on, Ghost, how bad can that be? You never know. What if you get attached to him?"
"If there's one thing I dislike, it's children," Ghost declared stubbornly. "Remember, MacTavish, this is your child, not mine."
Soap chuckled and shook his head. Both men looked at Roach. He was sucking contentedly on the bottle, slowly draining the warm milk Soap made for him after referring to the internet, his green eyes staring up innocently at Ghost.
Ghost frowned underneath his balaclava, numerous feelings clashing together in his chest. He definitely didn't like the idea of a kid in the house, but there was something about his gaze that softened him up. Afraid that he might actually end up getting attached, Ghost leaned forward and raised his arms to imitate a monster.
"Roar!" he yelled, attempting to scare Roach. Ghost was well-known among the children for being scarier than clowns and dentists, especially with his skull-patterned balaclava on. He smirked as Roach stared at him, seemingly surprised, the bottle slipping out of his hands.
Suddenly, Roach began to giggle.
His reaction was a total opposite from what Ghost was so used to receiving. He stood there, clueless and stumped, as the boy's adorable expressions of mirth filled the air. Then, Soap laughed out loud, realizing what had happened.
The Englishman stood up straight and coughed, embarrassed that his plan to scare the child backfired. Well, that's the first time a baby didn't cry at the sight of him.
"You're both bloody annoying," Ghost sighed, retreating up the stairs.
"Ey, don't think you're going to relax for the day!" Soap called out, the grin still lingering on his face. "We have to go out and buy some things for Roach. A crib, a high chair, a stroller, toys, clothes, storybooks…"
Ghost groaned loudly as the list went on.
The three occupants of the house were in the kitchen. Ghost was reading the daily newspaper, sipping on a warm cup of tea with his balaclava folded neatly on the table. Near him was Roach, seated in the high chair that Soap picked out one week prior, watching eagerly as his adoptive parent prepared something at the counter.
Ghost was slightly annoyed how the baby couldn't sit still. Roach was constantly moving and restless, gurgling and giggling at random intervals. A part of Ghost wanted to grin, reach out and pinch his cheek (no denying that the kid really was irresistably adorable), but he restrained himself from doing so. Instead, every time his reading was interrupted, Ghost looked up from the paper and glared at Roach irritably.
Suddenly, Roach began to blow with his mouth closed, causing his lips to flutter, creating an annoying blubbering sound that spit out saliva in the process. Ghost glared, exasperated, as the baby giggled, fascinated with what he just did. When Roach repeated his action, Ghost sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose.
At that moment, Soap walked over with a small bowl. He set it in front of Roach, who stuck his hands into the food. Ghost stared at it, surprised and disgusted.
"What did you give him?" he asked his friend as Roach clumsily stuck his small hand into his mouth.
"Baby food," Soap replied, as though the answer was obvious. Then, he settled down in a chair opposite his friend and tucked into an egg sandwich.
Ghost watched his friend incredulously. "You're just going to let him eat with his bare hands?"
"It's not like he can use a spoon," Soap shrugged.
"Feed him, then!"
Soap grinned. "I thought he was my kid, Riley. Not yours."
"Yeah, but he's spilling it all over the bloody floor!" Ghost argued. "It's not like you're going to be the one who's cleaning it up!"
When his friend didn't move, he grunted and took a plastic spoon from the counter. Soap watched with amusement as Ghost returned to his chair and scooted closer to Roach's side.
"No," Ghost warned, lightly holding Roach's arm to stop him from dipping his hands in again. The child watched curiously as Ghost dipped the spoon in and slowly brought it to his mouth. "Open up."
Roach looked down at the spoon, almost as though unsure. He glanced at Soap, who's just sitting there grinning like an idiot. Seeing that his parent didn't do anything to stop Ghost, Roach opened his mouth, to which Ghost, with utmost gentleness and care, fed the child the baby food. Roach swallowed without difficulty.
Ghost didn't say another word and continued to feed Roach. Soap noticed how tender his friend was when attending to the boy, and the fact amused him. In fact, he thought he even caught a hint of a smile on his lips.
"You seem to like him already," Soap commented, smirking.
Ghost looked at him, startled. With an irritated frown, he declined defiantly. "The only reason I'm doing this is because I don't what this thing you're feeding him to be all over the floor."
"Right," Soap drawled the word out skeptically, taking another bite. He continued with a slightly muffled voice. "You were meticulous and gentle. You were trying to suppress a wide-ass smile on your face because you were starting to enjoy feeding him and watching him eat."
"Assumptions," Ghost accused, scooping up the last of the baby food and bringing it to Roach's mouth. As he swallowed the last of his meal, Roach smiled and clapped his hands in excitement, splattering some of the baby food onto Ghost's face in the process.
Soap chuckled, whereas Ghost leaned away and fumbled for a tissue. "Hell, this child is a nuisance!"
As he wiped away the baby food from his face, Soap brought his empty plate to the sink. Then, he lifted Roach from the high chair and cleaned him up, before setting the child on the floor and cleaning the high chair. As he did this, Ghost watched with an arched brow.
"Aren't you supposed to…uh…burp him?" Ghost asked awkwardly.
"What?" Soap stared at him, confused.
"Aren't you suppose to make the baby burp after his meal?" Ghost tried again, picking Roach up from the floor. "Like, pat his back until a burp comes out? They do it in TV shows."
"I was thinking of waiting five minutes," Soap shrugged, returning to wiping the high chair and table with damp cloth, "but if you want to do it now, go ahead."
Ghost carried Roach for a few more moments, unsure of what to do. He looked at Roach, who stared back with his irresistable puppy eyes. Then, Ghost shifted the child so he was resting on his shoulder, and then proceeded to awkwardly pat his back.
After a few seconds, Ghost felt him burp. 'Huh, that was faster than I expected…' he thoughts, a bit surprised that it went well.
He set Roach on the newly cleaned table. Soap pinched Roach's cheek with a grin, mumbled a thank you to Ghost and went to the sink to wash the damp cloth. As Ghost stood there, feeling a bit proud of himself, his back suddenly felt warm, and he reached a hand over his shoulder to touch the area.
When he came in contact with something wet and mushy, Ghost involuntarily yelped, startling the other two.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS ON MY BACK?!"
Soap whipped around, staring as Ghost turned around to show his back at the Scotsman. It took a while for him to register the substance that was over Ghost's shirt and jeans, but when he finally did, he laughed out loud. In fact, he laughed so hard he had to lean against the counter.
Ghost was infuriated. "OI! TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS THERE—"
"R-Roach vomited all over you, mate!" Soap sputtered, unable to look back in Ghost's direction. He gasped for air and said, "The baby food, he spurred it all over you behind your shoulder! Oh, Ghost, I told you to wait five minutes!"
He slipped back in a laughing fit.
Ghost snapped his head in Roach's direction. The blonde baby was sitting there, looking as innocent as ever, confused as to why his father was laughing uncontrollably and why Ghost looked fuming with anger. He also realized how Ghost's hand was twitching, as though he was contemplating whether to slap Roach across the face.
Eventually, Ghost released an aggravated exhale and stomped out of the kitchen.
Ghost was at work. Soap was at home, and had spent the last few hours teaching Roach simple words and improving how he walked. The few words that Roach was able to make out was "fafa" (though that wasn't actually a real word, at least he managed to say it), "Roach", "Soap" and "cat".
When he tried to teach Roach to say "Ghost", it came out differently, and no matter how hard Soap tried, he couldn't get the boy to say it right.
"Goat!" Roach chirped again, beaming at Soap. His father laughed.
"Oh man, I bet Riley's going to be pissed!" he told himself, laughter dying down into chuckles. Then, he glanced up at the clock. It was another two hours to go before five in the evening, until Ghost returned home.
It was then Soap remembered there were some groceries to buy.
He looked skeptically at Roach. It would be the first time Soap brought Roach out on his own since he adopted him a week and a half ago. With a small smile, he lifted the little boy off the floor and brought him upstairs to change and prepare for a trip to the grocery store.
An hour later, both of them were refreshed and dressed to leave the house. Soap packed a few necessities, namely diapers, and a stroller just in case, and stuffed them into the trunk of the car. With that done, he put Roach in the safety seat and strapped him in securely at the back seat of the vehicle.
Roach smiled at him as Soap finished buckling the seatbelt on. Soap smiled back and lightly patted his head, before closing the door and circling around the car to get to the driver's seat. However, he couldn't get in—the door was locked.
Frowning, Soap circled back around to Roach's door. To his horror, it was also locked.
He frantically tugged on the handle, trying to force it open. All the other doors were locked automatically. The engine wasn't running. Roach was still inside, and he looked drowsy already. There was no oxygen in there.
The child could suffocate.
Panic surged through Soap's body as he peered inside hopelessly. "I'm a daft numpty," he told himself, running his fingers through his mohawk. "Bloody fucking hell. I'm the worst parent in the world."
He began to pace on the driveway, his heart rate increasing with each second. Soap was at a lost of what to do. His thoughts were in disarray and he felt guilty and upset with himself. The Scot stared at the concrete, his heart pounding loudly in his chest and breaths uneven. A cold sweat broke out on his neck as he contemplated on what to do.
Finally, he reached a conclusion to take the desperate measure.
He circled back to the driver's seat, inhaled deeply, and bashed the window in. The shattering glass startled Roach, who was close to falling asleep. With the window out of the way, Soap reached in and unlocked the doors.
Without hesitation, he ran back around and took Roach out of the car, cradling the child in his arms. Planting a soft kiss in his hair, and squeezing the little boy again, he sighed in relief.
"Soap," Roach squeaked in his adorable voice, almost inquiringly, pointing to the broken window. Then, he motioned for Soap's elbow, which was slight scratched as a result from crashing the glass in.
"Yeah, I had to do that to get you out," Soap replied softly.
As he stared at Roach, never feeling so thankful in his life, a sudden thought struck him. One that washed away all relief and gratefulness. A thought that made him feel like the most idiotic man in the world.
The car keys were in his pocket the entire time.
~ One hour later ~
When Ghost returned home, Soap was sitting on the stairs in front of the door, watching as Roach stood up, clumsily chased a butterfly, tripped into the soft grass and giggled as the greenery cushioned his fall.
Ghost was genuinely perplexed. "What are you two doing out here?"
"Long story," Soap grunted, nodding towards the car. Ghost's eyes widened at the broken glass window. "If you want to hear about it, mate, I think you'll have to sit down, because you're going to have a good laugh about it."
When Roach noticed the arrival of his adoptive father's friend, he grinned and exclaimed, "Goat!"
Ghost's eyes fixed on the toddler. If he wasn't confused before, he was surely confused now. "What did he just call me?"
"Goat!" Roach chirped again, as though in reply to his question.
Ghost opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, and he stared blankly at Roach as Soap chuckled. The Scot explained, "He couldn't say 'Ghost' properly. Sorry, but I tried to get him to say it right. He just couldn't."
With a sigh, Ghost waved it off. "Never mind. Now then, tell me what happened."
He sat next to his older friend in front of the main door, and listened attentively as Soap grudgingly began his story. Soon, the Englishman cupped a hand over his mouth and tried hard to suppress his growing laughter.
"Laugh it up, you git," Soap muttered, hiding his face in his hands. Roach's giggles and Ghost's attempts at stopping his laughter filled the peaceful evening atmosphere in their quiet neighbourhood.
Ghost relaxed, surprisingly. He patted Soap on the shoulder, smiling almost sympathetically. Soap flashed him a weak smile in response.
"So…are we still going to go get those groceries?"
"Sure, if you're up for it," Soap shrugged his shoulders. "I already cleaned out the damn glass and you're already home, anyway."
"Let's go, then," Ghost stood up, but stopped when Soap grabbed his arm. He looked down inquringly.
"Get that ridiculous thing off your face, and then we'll go," the Scot said, reminding them of the last time they went to the store with Ghost still wearing the balaclava. Nothing but bad, bad memories.
Ghost went inside the house and exited a few minutes later, dressed casually with his signature sunglasses pushed up his sharp-angled nose. Soap gave him the car keys and picked Roach up from the lawn.
Before long, they were driving down to the supermarket.
It was two'clock in the morning when Ghost's eyes flew open, bringing a rude awakening from the horrible nightmares he was used to having. Despite having the air-conditioner on, he could feel the sweat on his face and neck, the racing beats of his heart and the uneven gasps for air. Sitting up, and throwing his feet to the carpet, he wiped his face several times, blindly staring at nothing in the pitch-black darkness of his room.
For some reason, Ghost walked out of his bedroom and peered out into the hallway. At the other end was the door leading to Soap's room, and he crept out of his chambers before closing the door behind him. With silent footsteps, he went to the other side and slowly wrapped a hand around the knob.
Twisting it without making a sound, he pushed the door, carefully and slightly as to not create so much as a creak. Poking his head in, he saw Soap asleep with his leg dangling off the bed in the intense darkness; the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight seeping in through the half-closed blinds. On the other side of the room was Roach's crib.
Ghost entered the room and approached the crib, a smile threatening to crack on his face as he drew near.
Expecting to find an adorable little boy tucked in and sound asleep, we could say he was horrified when he found a swarm of mosquitoes surrounding Roach, whose expression was twisted into that of discomfort and to the brink of tears.
After quickly getting rid of the pesty insects, Ghost took Roach from the crib and glared at the sleeping form of his best friend. "I swear, Soap is the worst father in the world," he grumbled, before looking back down at Roach, who was now wide awake and smiling fascinatedly at his uncle. "Don't tell him I said that."
Unsure of what to do to ensure the things stayed away from Roach, Ghost decided to use the insect repellent that Soap bought, courtesy of a website on the internet which listed the necessary items to buy for first-time parents. He stripped the baby down to his diapers and sprayed the repellent onto Roach from head to toe.
Unfortunately, as Ghost was still rather distracted with irritation of Soap's irresponsibility, it meant that he sprayed the repellent over Roach's hands, as well, which he then used to wipe his eyes with. Which meant that Roach started to cry due to the pain in his eyes.
Though at first confused, Ghost quickly realized what happened. For the first time in a long time, he panicked, knowing that the repellent must've hurt like hell and was probably dangerous for all he knew. Setting the insect repellent down, he cursed and stared at the crying Roach, racking his brain for a solution.
Soap shifted in his bed, which just gave Ghost a mini-heart attack. The last thing he needed now was his best friend waking up and discovering what he did to Roach.
Ghost flicked a switch, which turned bathroom lights on. Swinging the door open, he took Roach, whose sobbing was incresing in volume, and twisted the tap. Fresh, running water poured out, and instead of calming down and coming up of a good answer to his problem, Ghost held Roach's face underneath the running faucet.
Of course, that just made Roach cry harder. First, there's a horrible pain in his eyes, and now, his uncle is drowning him.
Ghost turned off the tap and wanted to shriek in panic as Roach's sobs increased. Bloody hell, he didn't know what to do.
Suddenly, Soap limped up to the bathroom door, rubbing his eyes. He squinted at the bright room and looked confusedly at his best friend. Then he saw Roach, crying in Ghost's arms, his face wet and upper body drenched in water. Genuinely puzzled, he looked back at Ghost in search of answers.
"What the hell are you doing to my baby?" was the best form of a question Soap managed to make out.
Ghost sighed, one composed of exhaustion and relief, and gave Roach to Soap, who subconsciously took him into his arms. He explained, in the briefest and most precise way possible, of what happened.
When he finished his story, all sleepiness and confusion left Soap as a grin broke out on his face. "You know, you could've just taken a damp cloth and wiped his body and face. That would've solved the problem."
Ghost's face fell, which caused his friend to laugh.
"Go back to sleep, Riley," Soap advised, smirk still lingering on his face. "I'll take it from here." Then, he looked down at Roach and planted a soft kiss on his rosy cheek. "Go on, Roach. Say good night to Uncle Ghost."
Roach looked at the other man with a neutral expression at first. Ghost still looked like a wreck, having just recovered from extreme panic almost directly after waking up.
Then, Roach's lips parted into a small grin, which elightened the look on Ghost's face. "Night, Goat!"
"Good boy," Soap congratulated with a proud smile.
After a few moments, a tired smile spread across Ghost's face as he walked up to them and rustled Roach's blond hair. "Good night, Bug," he murmured, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on Roach's forehead.
Soap watched, his blue eyes widening, as his best friend rushed past him and out the door. The Scot stared at the door for a few more minutes, unable to believe what he just saw. The tenderness in Ghost's warm smile, the care in his piercing azure eyes, the truthfulness in his low, accented voice. That was definitely one side of Ghost that Soap had never seen before in his life.
An incredulous look still on his face, he slowly turned to look at Roach. "Did you see what I just saw?"
Roach looked at him inquiringly, naturally unable to understand his confusion, let alone comprehend his father's question.
After a short staring contest, Soap settled on a small chuckle and shook his head. "You're just too adorable, Roach. See what you've done to Uncle Ghost?"
A/N: I hope that was humorous. So, um... favourite this if you want to and leave a review! Tell me what you think of this parody xD