Chapter 16:
On the trip back to the base, Ghost stared down at his balaclava in contemplation. The past two months had been the longest he'd ever gone without it and now faced with the idea of putting it back on he found he didn't want to. Running a thumb over the skull face, he sighed.
"Something wrong?"
He looked up to find Roach watching him. He smiled and it immediately put Ghost at ease. That smile was better than any drug he'd been forced to take.
"No, just wishing I didn't have to wear this."
Roach looked down at the mask and frowned. "So don't. No one's forcing you to."
"Got to keep up appearances, at least for a little longer." He could already imagine the stares he would get back at base. No, he wasn't ready for that yet. Roach and Soap were fine, hell even Roach's family was fine. But not the soldiers at the base. "As long as I'm Ghost the mask stays."
"Shame, I was starting to like Simon."
Whenever Roach used his name it caused so many conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he hated it, the idea of being that person again and having Roach of all people call him that. Something in his head was beginning to unravel and he was scared of what would happen when it did. But he couldn't deny he liked the way his name sounded coming from Roach.
Glancing towards their Captain to find him asleep, Ghost reached over to take Roach's hand and smiled as their fingers entwined. "He's not all gone." There was a part of him that wanted to be Simon again, a small voice in the back of his head that was insisting on being acknowledged. It was this voice that urged him to keep going. "Someone has to make sure you pick the perfect tree next year too."
"Let's try to make it to next year in one piece then."
There was a chance they wouldn't. Ghost knew this but hated being reminded that Roach could die on a mission. His own death didn't scare him, it would just be the end of a long exhausting fight. But if Roach died...
"Ghost, you need to relax. I can't feel my fingers."
He started and realised he'd been gripping Roach's hand too tight. "Sorry." He immediately let go and flexed his hand. Whenever he was confronted with the possibility of Roach dying it was like falling into nothingness. He had no future if Roach was gone. "Do me a favour and stay alive."
"Only if you do."
Roach's hand slipped into his again. It felt so natural to be like this, a feeling he had never experienced before. This man, who understood him in ways he didn't understand himself, meant everything. Maybe he should tell Roach this but whenever he tried the words got stuck in his throat. Ghost started when he felt fingers in his hair, only to realise it was Roach. He relaxed under the gentle pressure and leaned back.
"We're not even back yet and you're already rigid. You're so high strung."
"That's me, a high functioning wreck."
"Relax."
Roach's fingers were still combing through his hair, his other rubbing circles on the back of his hand. It was calming, soothing even. He found his head on Roach's shoulder without remembering how. What did it matter really how he got there when it felt so nice to be held like this. Closing his eyes, Ghost decided to just let go and enjoy it.
The next thing he knew the carrier was landing and he woke up with a jolt. Roach was still sleeping, he was a heavy sleeper. Ghost had learned this when he slept through the first part of a shoot out at one of their stakeouts a couple of years ago. He'd had to kick him awake as the door was broken down.
Ghost groaned as he sat up and rubbed his stiff neck.
"Nice nap?" He looked up to see Soap was already standing and grinning at him. "I woke up to find you two cuddling. Never thought I'd see the day."
"Shut up."
"He's good for you, even if you can't see it."
Ghost glanced at Roach and felt a smile pull at his lips. "I see it."
"Still talking to Michelle?"
Michelle was the task force's dedicated therapist. She didn't stay on-site because it was too dangerous but she was on call and he had made a trip to see her over Christmas.
At first, it was horrible. He hated having some stranger prying into a life that he hadn't thought about in years. It was painful, telling her about everything that happened, but it helped. He'd been able to tell Roach, be more honest with him. Little by little, it was getting easier to talk. Little by little, Simon was creeping back into his subconscious.
Maybe this isn't such a bad thing, the voice in his head told him as he looked at Roach.
"Ghost?" Soap snapped his fingers and he came back to earth. "There you are. Should I be worried about you?"
"No. I'm still talking to Michelle, I saw her over Christmas."
"How'd it go?"
"Good, I'm making progress." He crouched down next to Roach and shook his shoulder. He only groaned in response and pushed him away. "Get up, Roach. We're back at the base."
He opened one eye. "Great."
"Come on." Hauling Roach to his feet they grabbed their bags and started towards the building.
"This is where I leave you. There's a lot to do before the team arrives tomorrow." Soap left them at the door. "Ghost I'll need you in my office in a few hours!"
That could only mean one thing, paperwork. "Great."
"That's what you get, Lieutenant." Roach nudged his arm. "Don't forget your mask."
"Right." He pulled it on and started checking his pockets for his shades. "Do you know where I put my..."
Roach's eyes widened. "Oh, wait!" He started rummaging in his bag and then pulled out a pair of red-tinted shades. "I owe you these."
"Thanks." He'd missed the red, somehow the black had never looked quite right.
Roach smiled and grabbed his hand. "Come on." They ended up in the toilets staring into the mirrors. "What do you think?"
Seeing himself as Ghost again was comforting. He knew who he was and what he was capable of. But he also hated it. Hated that he could now see how much of a crutch this mask and person was.
"I fucking hate it."
Roach's reflection looked surprised.
"I hate Ghost. I fucking hate how much I need him." He reached out and gripped Roach's hand tightly. "But I still need him, at least for now."
"One day you won't." Roach's eyes filled with such warmth Ghost looked away. It was the kind of look he felt he didn't deserve. Why would someone as warm and good as Roach want him? "Hey, stop that."
"What?"
"That look I know what it means. Don't start thinking you don't deserve love."
"Can you read minds?"
"Only yours." Roach's arm was around his waist now. "Because I know you." Better than he knew himself, but that was ok. "You still need Ghost and that's fine."
I need you too. He wanted to say it but the words never made it out. He only squeezed Roach's hand and hoped he understood. "I um, I need to get ready too. I need to speak to Michelle before I join Soap."
"How's it going?"
"Better. I mean, I'm not freaking out right now and your touching me so that's progress." It was a weak joke and Roach didn't even pretend to laugh. "Seriously though, I'm doing a lot better I promise. Keep calling me Ghost though."
"Ok." Roach stepped back and let him go. "I'll see you later, Ghost."
Ghost listened as he walked away. Once he could no longer hear Roach, he leaned against the sink and looked back at his reflection. Only a mask stared back. Once upon a time that had been enough. Now he wanted to be someone, he wanted to be Simon again.
But to get there he needed help and that was where Michelle came in. Good thing he had another session booked and now he needed to go prepare. "Doom on you, Mr Tango." He muttered then left the toilets.
...
"So today I thought we'd talk about your father."
"What about him?" Ghost clenched his hands at the thought of the man. He had been a vile, disgusting excuse for a human being and if he never thought about the man again for the rest of his life it wouldn't be enough.
Michelle raised an eyebrow, his reaction hadn't gone unnoticed. "You're still holding on to all these strong feelings regarding him. I know you had a rough childhood. Your father abused you, rather cruelly."
An understatement. But Ghost refrained from shouting insults, a common reaction whenever his father cropped up. "Yeah, he never won any father of the year awards that's for sure."
"What would you say to try and let go of that anger and resentment?"
"Impossible."
"Simon, these feelings will only continue to hurt you." She had refused to call him Ghost since their first meeting. "How can you move on if you hold on to all that rage?"
"How am I supposed to let it go? I can't just... forgive him for what he did." He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. Another one of Michelle's rules was that he wasn't allowed to wear his balaclava. "He was cruel and sadistic and he got in my fucking head! Sometimes I think he's just waiting in there for me to slip up."
But I'm stronger than that. There was that little voice again. He's gone and can't hurt me anymore.
"You don't have to forgive him. Just let go of all that anger."
Anger that had fueled his desire to forget being Simon, that had pushed him to be Ghost. Anger that kept him going despite the odds. Anger that kept him alive.
That's not true, Roach is my reason to stay alive now.
Yes, he was. He wasn't surviving out of spite anymore, but hope. Thoughts of Roach always calmed him down, even now that anger was slipping away. Ghost closed his eyes and leant over the desk.
"I never had a childhood because of that man. He took away all my innocence before I even knew what it was to be a kid." No friends, no joy, no laughter. Unless you counted laughing at dead prostitutes which he didn't. "But I have something worth fighting for now. I have Roach and he..." The words got stuck again in his throat. ...makes me happy.
"Makes it worth fighting for?"
Ghost cleared his throat. "Yeah."
"So why do you need that anger?"
"I don't." He didn't, not anymore. "I have something better." Ghost smiled and Michelle smiled back.
"I think you've got it."
After the call ended, Ghost pulled his balaclava back on and went outside. The base was quiet with everyone still gone. Soap was busy working and Roach was probably in his room. Outside he lit up a cigarette to smoke.
As his thoughts drifted to his father again he felt that familiar anger rising inside him. Closing his eyes, Ghost sighed and forced himself to think about Roach instead. It worked, like an ice pack on a burn he felt calmer.
Throwing the butt away, Ghost stood up and sighed. "Goodbye, dad." He said quietly before turning and walking back inside. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he smiled.
