Chapter 1

'All is fair in love and war.'

-Jonh Lyly

The ceiling fan rustled as it spun the air around in dim litted room. It wasn't really needed anyway since it was freezing outside. Lying on the uncomfortable bed, which had grown familiar after months of sleeping the same goddamned lumps under his sore back, he eyed the fan once more. It was no use in lying here, sleepless. With one last sigh, he crawled up from the bed and padded barefooted towards his clothes from the day before. Once clothed his eyes met a mirror on the wall and another sigh was emitted. He wasn't getting any younger... Finally fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his camo trousers pockets, he headed outside.

The deflating cold desert air hit his skin and he groaned softly. God, he had grown to hate this place alltogether. Taking a long, deep drag from his cigarette and feeling the nicotine rush in to his veins his eyes fell closed. Heaven only knew how much he missed being home in Glasgow. Mind wandering back to his sister, niece, real bed and a bathtub he scratched absentmindedly the mohawk covering the top of his head.

'Sir?'

The voice coming from behind startled him. He had been so occupied by the sudden homesickness that he missed the heavy footstepes and ruffling of clothes.

'Bloody hell, mate! Could you not scare me out like that?' he spoke shaking his head in manner or disapproval turning to face the familiar team member standing before him.

'Sorry, sir. I...' sudden hesitation laced the voice of 141 sergeant's on watch duty.

He wasn't exactly stupid. He was a captain for a reason and right now, his sense told him something wasn't completely right. Maybe it was the ungodly hour or the fact that he hadn't had any sleep but Meat looked like a six year old telling mommy what his big brother had done...

'Captain, I... I think something's up with Ghost'

'What do you mean?'

'He's at the north gate', gesturing the direction Meat continued, 'It... it looks like he's fighting. Sir, I really think-'

'Don't.' The captain said dropping his fag to ground and putting out with the tip of his boots. ' They don't pay you for thinking and besides I don't wanna hear it. And you just heard something worth checking from the south gate' He finished pointing south before heading north of the base, leaving the sergeant dumbfounded. Annoyed beyond belief, he gritted his teeth against the cold and swore under his breath. Where ever you went, what ever you did, as long as you stayed at the base, there was no getting away from these people.

'Roba' he whispered alerted. The sound laughter echoed in his ears.

'Good job on Sparks... so, English, are you ready for me now?' the Latin voice laughed again. He breathed through his balaclava heavily and the exhaled air vapored before his eyes. Perspiration glistered on his skin and he held his combat knife tighter. He could feel how close the Latin was... In one swift motion he was facing the opposite direction than just seconds before and slammed his knife towards Roba's chest. There was that laughter again... like he never managed to inflict any harm. The bastard never seemed to die. Without realizing though his sleep that he was observed from not so far, he continued his exhausting battle.

From a far he could see the fellow man's swift, practised and naturally graceful movements. Strong, mighty body flexed as the clearly visible muscles worked and another stab was executed perfectly leading to sure kill. The man was deadly merciless killing machine. He didn't think he himself wouldn't stand a chance against that fury-latched man fighting in the middle of the desert base. Only thing off was that he happened to be fighting against invisible enemies. The mohawked Scot had seen it before. The past horrors catched everyone up every now and then, and with some people, like his second in command, it could get nastier. Having studied the sight from a far the captain could tell it had been going on for some time now, hours even. The lieutenant didn't exhaust easily, after all. The older man scratched his mohawk out of habit once again.

The slowing of the motions and the wobbly knees before him forced him back from his thoughts. The captain watched, securely hidden in shadows as the younger man collapsed to the cold desert floor, opting to give it some more time before checking up on the sleepwalker. He hated to admit it but the younger man had wormed his way into his good books long ago.

As he started towards his fellow soldier, something caught his eye and by instinct stopped his feet from taking another step. A gun. The younger man drew a gun.

Something was way more off than what he thought from the start.

A thought occurred to the captain. If Ghost was going to start shooting at his nightmares, he himself could end up a with an accidental bullet hole through his brain. And even more disturbingly Meat would do his duty and put a bullet through Ghost... and he wasn't sure if could take that. Running through the scenarios and options the captain stared at the younger man as he suddenly unlocked the gun and slowly draw it to his own temple.

'Dad... please? Please don't... please?' An involuntary sob escaped his lips once he felt another ghost emerge from the shadows and replace Roba. His fingers faltered on the trigger as he shuddered at the voice of his father.

'You fucking useless wanker! You cunt! You can't even bloody die!' The Englishman yelled.

Listening the voice of his father, he gripped the gun tighter until his knuckles turned white.

'Do it, you lousy fuck. You lousy fag...' The voice of his father's spat.

'Ghost? Mate, it's me' The captain spoke softly from behind the other man to avoid startling the other. 'Ghost, c'mon... you ain't doing this. Give me the gun, mate'

The younger man shivered violently from being in the cold only clad in camo trousers. Even worse than being shirtless, the captain remarked, Ghost was barefooted.

'Simon?' The captain called stepping directly in front of the younger man and staring at his balaclava covered bowed head. Previous experiences taught him to know that the use of the younger man's birth name usually had a better effect than his call sign. After all, the lieutenant wasn't called by his name that often, mostly due to his unwillingness to share his name, or anything else for that matter, with anyone.

'Simon,' he called again praying for an answer, 'look at me, mate.'

It became clear that the man hidden behind the skull balaclava still hadn't snapped out of it. The older man sighed at the sight in front of him. It wasn't like he hadn't been shot a hundred times before but right now he wasn't sure for whose life he feared for anymore.

Slowly, hesitating, he placed a hand on the bare shoulder. Without the red-tinted sunglasses, the man looked different, definitely more human.

'Look at me'.

Nothing.

'For fuck's sake!' he yelled yanking the man up and slamming him into a nearby barracks wall.

Electric blue eyes searched the hazel orbs that were holding a tight stare towards the ground. The younger man, still utterly confused about his surroundings, refused to meet his gaze.

'Give me the gun, idiot'.

The death grip lessened and the gun was removed from his ice cold fingers by the captain. After securing the safety on the older man handed the gun back to his lieutenant with a heavy sigh. Finally, the hazel green tint eyes rose from the ground to meet the captain's gaze and focused. The eyes were filled with unshed tears and from a close, the captain noted how the balaclava clung to his face wet from crying.

Without really meaning to the captain placed his hand back where it had been only a moment ago, on the mans shoulder, eyes locking with the hazel ones. There was something there that made staring those eyes that were so rarely seen half painful but at the same time so blissful that he just couldn't help it. Sure he had seen the lieutenants eyes before, and considered them absolutely captivating before mentally smacking himself for thinking something like that, but now he didn't find the words to describe what he saw.

What the hell was he doing here? He pushed the thought away from his mind as the magnetism of the hazel eyes proofed stronger. His hand released its grip from the shoulder of the other man and crept towards the hem of the balaclava. Touch of calloused fingers brushing his bare chest made the hazel eyed man inhale sharply and without realizing he leaned into the touch.

Never breaking eye contact the captain slid his hand under the skeleton balaclava to cup the face before him properly. He was suddenly so lost in the moment that all hesitations had vanished. As he softly stroked the bottom lip underneath the balaclava with his thumb and the hazel gaze intensified so much that the older man felt like was being slowly burnt.

A soft and highly uncharacteristic whimper fell from the younger man's lips. The captains blue eyes and the surprisingly gentle touch held something from past lives. He wasn't the one for any sympathy, not before, but after... After closeness or warmth was something he denied all together, especially from a source like this. Tonight, he was too tired to fight it, fight himself or anything, for that matter. It wasn't until the movement in the corner of his eye that he managed to tear his eyes off the blue ones.

The tensing of the body next to his brought the captain back to reality. Instantly he pulled his hand back and distanced himself for the other man. Meat and Scarecrow had appeared, curious enough about what was happening to leave their watch duty.

'You're dismissed,' he spoke, barely turning his head towards the curious nosey duo, behind them.

As the he pondered on what the hell had just happened Ghost spoke up for the first time.

'I'm sorry for-', silent voice pleaded but was cut off by the man himself.

'Doesn't matter. Let's just get you inside already' the mohawked man spoke gripping the younger man's broad shoulder, half guiding, half dragging the exhausted barefooted man towards his quarters. The Captain shot a glare at the men on watch, who barely took any notice of his command. They'd be feeling it by the next training, as it was none of their business, anyway.