A/N:

Firstly, thank you all so much for reviewing! I know commenting can be easy to pass up due to laziness, so thanks a million. A review/comment no matter how brief is always nice to see!

Sassy: Thank you so much! =D *bows*I am already hating my first chapter though, haha. I think this one is better, but I'll probably re-read it tomorrow and hate it too. XD Thank you for reading!

Aurora: Thank you kindly! I hope I maintain your interest!

Mysterious Stranger: Ah, I like hearing that! I was sort of inspired to write this based on my own feelings about the story of MW2. I remember finding it odd Ghost was so quick to make a decision without MacTavish so I sort of channelled that into Roach (well we do play as him so it makes sense that we can pour a bit of ourselves into the empty vessel!) Ghost is a character I admired right from the start but up until "Loose Ends" you don't exactly see the same sort of comradeship between Ghost and Roach that was often displayed between Soap and Roach and Soap and Ghost throughout the game... so that's basically what inspired. Originally I wasn't going to go for slash (bromance at best, but too many fics on here corrupted me, hahaha!).

Oh, and I apologize if you were anticipating something steamy this chapter... maybe next time *whistles*

"So you're the F.N.G, huh? Sanderson?" An American who had introduced himself as Royce offered Gary a smoke, which he quickly declined.

" 'Fraid so," Gary responded with sarcastic melancholy.

"Yeah, you sure as hell don't look like much," The man known as Royce laughed, but clapped Gary on the shoulder in a friendly fashion."Welcome to the club."

"Thanks, it's an honor," Gary grinned genuinely. He think he liked Royce enough.

"So... MacTavish giving you a hard time yet?" Royce asked while puffing away on his cigarette.

"Nah, not really," Gary side-stepped to avoid the cloud of hazy smoke that had escaped Royce's mouth. Alright, so the second hand smoke was a bit annoying.

"Good man, that MacTavish. Saved my skin more times than I can count. You meet the Lieutenant yet?"

"Don't think so... what do they call him again, Ghost or something?"

"Yeah, that's him. Off the record, he's the biggest douche I ever met." Royce spat on the ground, his voice indicating that he had very little to like about the lieutenant Ghost.

Gary blinked, finding it odd that this man that had just introduced himself was already divulging what he privately felt about his superior officer. It made him feel put on the spot, awkward. Suddenly he wished that he hadn't bumped into Royce, that he could just get back to his bunk...

"Just, don't do anything to piss him off. He doesn't take any screw-ups lightly. Thinks he's the best of course..." Royce droned.

"I see..." Gary spoke hesitantly. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Guy even dresses like a total douche bag during missions, too. Wears this stupid-ass skull balaclava and sunglasses. It's like he's too afraid to show himself to the enemy or something, Freakin' coward."

Gary really wanted this particular conversation to end. He had yet to meet his Lieutenant and wanted to hold off on any sort of judgement until then. He didn't need the personal biases of Royce interfering with how he felt about one of the men who would be leading him into life and death scenarios.

"You'll see what I mean soon enough," Royce nodded his head slowly, finally speaking after Gary failed to add comment.

"Why do you think they call him Ghost?" Gary attempted to diffuse the conversation into a new direction.

"Because," This time, a different voice spoke from behind Royce. Gary hadn't even seen anyone approach. "...Only ghosts can come back from the dead." The figure that belonged to the disembodied voice came into view, clad in black, the grinning skull printed on the balaclava almost seemed to float in place.

"Jesus Christ, man!" Royce's cigarette fell from his mouth in surprise. "Ghost!" The look on his face indicated that he sincerely hoped that their new arrival hadn't heard the discussion prior to Gary's question.

Ghost simply nodded. "F.N.G, eh? Welcome to the one-four-one."

Gary was a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Lieutenant and the quick introduction. "Thank you, sir. The pleasure's all mine." He managed to say after a slight delay.

"Call sign?" Ghost asked Gary casually.

"Roach, sir." Gary gazed up on the sunglasses and mask that made the man impossible to read.

"I like to step on roaches," He replied in a humorless tone. "...Time to rest up, you're joining the mission tomorrow, Captain's orders." With that, Ghost turned on his heel, and merged once more with the darkness.

Royce mockingly wiped a hand across his forehead in relief. "See what I mean?" He mouthed, before turning towards the barracks.

But Gary didn't share the same sentiments as Royce. In the brief minute that he had been in the presence of Ghost, he had felt that the man was compelling, mysterious even. Yet those feelings intimidated him slightly, and he wasn't exactly sure why. From that moment on, Gary Sanderson was fixated on a ghost.

"MacTavish! Tangos at twelve o'clock! I can't get a shot!" An English accent barked frantically above the sound of rapid machine gun fire.

Roach crouched behind a vehicle that had recently exploded after catching fire when a stray grenade detonated within it's proximity. He could spot enemy fire at his front as he cautiously scoped through the twisted metal of a warped window frame on the car's door.

Bullets immediately sprayed the sides of the burnt metal frame.

"Shit!" Roach hurriedly ducked once more, seeking cover from the barrage of bullets.

From his peripheral vision, Roach saw his captain emerge from the cover of a dumpster in response to Ghost's yell. Roach heard shouts in a language he didn't recognize as MacTavish took aim with deadly precision, eliminating the threats that had been firing on the squad.

"Tangos down!" MacTavish responded as he ceased fire, reloading his AK-47 behind the dumpster.

"Nice work, mate!" Ghost had jogged up to the dumpster to reload along side the captain.

That had been the third instance Roach had failed to get a clear shot on this particular mission alone. He wasn't just putting his own life in danger when he missed; the longer a threat was present, the more harm it could do to his squad mates. He was grateful that he had his captain to take the shot when he screwed up, but he couldn't assume that MacTavish would always be there when he failed to take down a target. His blunders were starting to demoralize him; he needed to prove himself, not just to the one-four-one, but to himself.

Of course, sometimes trying to prove yourself only proves that you're a fool.

Ghost and MacTavish charged forward, Roach following suit after a moment's hesitation, not wanting to keep up the rear. But by the time Roach had left his position and had sprinted into the open, MacTavish and Ghost had already ducked for cover. And Roach had lost them. A shower of bullets pecked away at the dirt road at Roach's feet as he fumbled for cover behind a large, metal barrel.

"Roach! Always check your corners!" Ghost barked from an indiscernible location.

Roach's position was safe but it would be difficult to use for cover. The barrel he had chosen to hide behind was thin and rusting. He chucked a frag grenade further down the road, hoping to reduce the number of threats.

"Bloody 'ell, Roach! You've given away your position!" Ghost's voice consumed his hearing over the radio.

Roach gritted his teeth, because the lieutenant was right. His frag must have fallen short, as it did nothing to deter or break-up the enemy formation. Bullets now relentlessly hammered away on the metal surface of the barrel. It wouldn't hold for much longer. Just how far ahead had he ran? He felt a sudden panic spring up on him as he was unable to detect the whereabouts of MacTavish and Ghost.

To add injury to insult, a Tango was now visible on an adjacent roof top, brandishing an RPG. It was aimed directly at Roach. He quickly aimed down the sight of his ACR and went for a head shot.

Click.

Reload? Shit, shit, shit! He pulled out his side arm, but at that range, precision was difficult. He shot the wielder of the RPG in the arm, who dropped the cumbersome weapon off the side of the balcony in pain.

"Roach, MacTavish here, no telling how many Tangos are in that building, you need to fall back- we'll cover you," His captain kept his tone calm, reassuring.

"Good thing a roach can scurry fast," Ghost muttered.

Roach ignored the comment, and dashed forward maintaining a hunched position as much as possible. Keeping low , he maneuvered behind cars and dumpsters that lined the street as much as possible and managed to avoid detection.

"The alley, Roach," MacTavish informed him. To his a left, he saw a narrow passage between two run-down apartment buildings. He found Ghost, MacTavish and the others squeezed inside.

"Sorry, sir, I got a bit overwhelmed," Roach apologized to his captain, quickly taking the time to reload his assault rifle

"You're not a one man army, lad, " MacTavish replied. "But you did good work takin' out that RPG." At least his efforts hadn't been entirely without merit.

"With all due respect MacTavish, Roach was flanked," Ghost spoke up, unashamed to call out Roach in front of the entire squad. "He's made the mission more difficult. We now have to deal with-" Roach's self-esteem fell sharply at Ghost's accusation. Maybe Royce had been right, there was no pleasing him. The douche.

"That's enough, Ghost!" MacTavish had cut him off mid-sentence, brushing off the Lieutenant's remark. "Time to move out. On my mark!"

Despite later completing the rest of the mission successfully, Roach couldn't help but feel that he had failed utterly. Ghost's patronizing words haunted him for weeks.

That man and the grinning skull. Was Simon Riley really a coward beneath the facade? Or did the mask serve something more than just simply hiding his identity? Could it have represented something more to the man, just as the name Ghost seemed to carry a sense of heavy burdens from a troubled past? Or was Roach merely over analyzing this man? He didn't know how to act around him, or even what to say half of the time. Off duty Ghost could be easy going, almost laid back to the point where you would actually think it was possible to be friends. But Ghost never truly let anyone into that world of his. Beneath the exterior Roach got the impression that the only man he could ever relate to was MacTavish. The two were almost inseparable; sure if was great to see Captain and Lieutenant compatible and cooperative, but MacTavish made an effort to form a relationship with all of his men, where as Ghost maintained the distance with everyone else. Maybe he truly was incapable of finding common ground with most men as indicated by what he had told Gary the first night that he had met him "...Only ghosts can come back from the dead." To Gary, it could have been interpreted a multitude of ways, but the way Ghost phrased it implied that only he knew the whole story... and that story was a particularly long and dark one. Was it that history that prevented Ghost from developing a level of trust and understanding with Roach and the others?

Roach sighed. He was tired of trying to get on the man's good side, but part of him wouldn't let up. To receive even the slightest form of gratitude or acknowledgment for a job well done would have sent him over the moon. Even though he knew MacTavish held Roach in his confidence, Ghost's lack of connection to the men of the one-four-one bothered him. To Ghost, he would only ever be "Roach," not Gary Sanderson; only a solider, not a friend.

Roach had eventually decided it wasn't worth his effort. And then he caught a glimpse of the real man beneath that skull. It was nearly perfect, aside from a stray scar here or there. But they didn't serve to take away from the man's appearance, only strengthening his striking features. His square jaw, high cheek bones, straight nose weren't traits one would normally choose to keep hidden from the world. The mask apparently held something meaningful to him, even if the reason was beyond everyone else. The more Roach discovered about Ghost, the more difficult it became for him to shake off his fixation... a fixation that only fueled his desire to impress the man. Roach could only hope that he would finally get his chance during the safe house operation.