AUTHOR'S NOTE: So This Was Inspired By Ameij's Drawing "10 years". I actually cried. :'( Hope you like it.

WARNING: Contains Hurt/Comfort, Which May Upset Some.


10 years.

10 years of thinking one day, he might not come home to an empty bed. Hoping he'd come home to he sound of his favourite voice echoing through the air.
Dreaming he'd be able to touch the soft skin he knew so well. It was like this everday for John MacTavish. Every damn day.

The day usually started off with the rather loud sound of his alarm. He'd drag himself to the shower, then downstairs. Never smiling. After leaving the 141, his time wasn't devoted to the snaps of bullets, flashes of white & the long string of curse words. No, his time was devoted to nothing. He'd dreamed of something like this But, not quite like this. John dreamed of waking up to that same smile that usually greeted him every morning, the gentle hands curling around his waist in the afternoon & the rush of pleasure at night...all with the same person.

Obliviously to what day it wasJohn sat in front of the fire, staring into it. Something about the flicker of the flames calmed him. Erased all hurt, comforted him. His eyes pulled away, glancing at the hanging frame above the fireplace. His favourite picture. It was from his sisters wedding. He studied the picture, remembering how tight he held his lover. The Scotsman's broad smile reminded him how happy Simon made him. He was John again. He could feel the tears forming already. Deciding not to have a tear-fest he retreated into the shower again. He needed something to do.

Sitting under the hot spray of water, all he could think about was those 2 painful words "what if?". What if I was there to stop Shepherd? Would Simon still be alive? Why did he have to go? Why not me? All the questions ringing through John's head. Constantly.
He stepped out of the shower, towelling himself dry & changing. He had to get out. Anywhere that didn't give him memories of Simon.

Walking down the short roads of Thurso, his mind drifted to Simon yet again. Thankfully his phone rang. 'Price'. Muttering curse words he answered the phone.

"What?" His voice sounding 'fed-up'.

"Just checking in on you mate" Price knew his friend was fragile.

"Well...im fine" John sighed.

Before Price could reply, Soap hung up.

His feet took him to the pub down the road, he sat on one of the barstools and waited.

"What you havin'?" John looked up to see a young lass, Honey brown hair, glistening green eyes, she was in one word, beautiful. To John, she was just another broad. Nothing special. No Simon. Yet he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

"Scotch, smooth"

She grabbed a glass from behind & poured him a large. John grabbed his wallet to pay until she waved him off.

"This one's on the house, you look like you could use it" He barely smiled, but there was a slight smile.

He downed the drink & began fiddling around with the empty glass.

"On your own?"

Soap shrugged & carried on fiddling with the glass.

Without noticing Soap rested his head on the bar, staring at the wall. Waiting...

He wasn't sure how much time went by, but he was late. He was always late.

John's head slowly lifted and looked in his direction.

"Your'e late" He smiled.

He asked for 2 Scotch's this time. The bartender watched him, confused & sympathetic. Without question she poured two glasses.

"Thought you weren't coming" John pushed the drink towards him.

He took a gulp of the scotch, enjoying the taste.

"I've missed you" He asked quietly.

If only he could see what the others saw. It's like this for John MacTavish everyday. Every damn day.


Inspired By:

- Ameij's Drawing "10 Years" On deviantart.

- The Song "Gortoz A Ran" By Denez Prigent ,Can Be Heard On The Credits To 'Black Hawk Down' (My Fav Movie, This Song Really Helped Me With This, It's Beautiful)

John 'Soap' MacTavish & Simon 'Ghost' Riley Belong To Infinity Ward/Actvision. The Story Belongs To Me. Don't Steal.

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