Roach woke up in the infirmary in a pleasant haze. Whatever drugs he was on, strong ones it seemed, were making his thoughts muddled. He couldn't remember what had happened. Looking down he saw bandages wrapped around his chest, clean with no bloodstains.
"Hey, Gary." He started slightly but relaxed under the familiar pressure of Ghost's hands as they took his own. "How are you feeling?"
"I don't know, I don't feel any pain."
"Doc gave you good meds huh?" Ghost's thumb was stroking the top of his hand and Roach smiled. It was comforting. "Do you remember anything?"
"No, it's all a blur."
"Bullet to the shoulder, you fell down a hill. You even managed to impale yourself on a branch if you can believe it." Those hands stilled, gripping his tightly, betraying Ghost's real feelings despite the teasing voice. "You know how to make a mess of things, huh?"
"I'm alive, aren't I?"
"Lucky more like it."
"Simon, I'll be alright." Roach sighed and leaned back, frowning at the twinge of pain it caused. "Shit, the meds are wearing off."
"You'll have to wait for more, can't have you overdosing."
"Always looking out for me right?"
"Always."
Under Ghost's strict care, Roach began healing. It was slow and painful at first but when Doc gave him some pills they helped take the edge off, leaving him pleasantly numb. But the numbness came with a cost, he couldn't think properly and Ghost had to stop his training because he couldn't shoot straight, let alone exercise.
"How many more of those things do you have to take?"
"The whole bottle, Doc said." Roach held it up to see it was half full. "Another week or two left."
"You're in for hell once those are gone." Ghost took the bottle and for one insane moment, Roach wanted to snatch it back, afraid the other man would take them away. "Get some rest ok? I need you back on your feet. Can't lose my best Sergeant, can I?"
"Only Sergeant, what about a husband?"
"Well, I can't lose that either." Ghost leaned forward to kiss him. "So rest up."
"Yes sir."
The weeks passed by and the injuries healed. Roach began training again, if only in small increments. He started getting better and Ghost finally relented and held him again. It felt so good to be alive. But when the pills ran out and the shaking started he couldn't stop thinking about getting more. Asking Doc wouldn't work he knew that the man would never give him more. What could he do?
It got worse and worse and he knew Ghost was worried about now. He kept asking if he was ok, what he needed and what could he say? That he needed more pills? Ghost wouldn't understand, or maybe he would and that was worse. He didn't want to drag him back into the dark place in his head.
So one night when Ghost was sleeping, Roach slipped out and broke into the infirmary. He took a bottle of meds, just enough to tide him over until the pain was gone. Back in bed, he stared at the little bottle in his hands in shock.
What the hell had he been thinking?
He'd stolen meds.
Soap wasn't going to be happy. Ghost would flip his shit when he found out.
Oh god, Ghost.
Roach looked down at the sleeping man and the guilt hit him like a punch to the stomach. He would never forgive him. So Roach quietly hid the bottle and curled up in his husband's arms which held him tightly, despite his sleep.
He tried his best, he did. Three days passed before he cracked and opened the bottle.
"Roach, that's the seventh target you've missed. What's wrong? You were getting better." Ghost lowered the gun barrel and took the weapon from him. The concerned expression he wore only made Roach feel sick with guilt. "Are you in pain?"
"No, I'm fine really. Just an off day I suppose?" Ghost didn't look convinced. "Stop stressing about me."
"It's my job."
"I'm fine." Roach smiled and kissed him quickly. "Maybe that's enough shooting for one day though."
"Ok."
Ghost had a meeting with Soap that night so Roach knew he had a few hours to himself. He was sat on the bed, trying to read and not think about the pills but thinking of nothing else. He couldn't focus on the words which might as well have been written in another language for all the sense they made.
It was too much.
Roach opened the drawer and took out the bottle.
"Gary, what the hell?" He hadn't heard the door open.
Roach jumped, the bottle falling to the floor and the pills spilt everywhere. He looked at Ghost in the silence and started shaking. "I just needed something to help me." He choked out, tears falling down his cheeks. "My mind won't stop and I want it all to stop. I want it all to go away!"
"Stop, stop it." Ghost grabbed his hands hard. "You can't do this to yourself. This needs to stop, no more pills."
"You can't..."
"I can and I will." Ghost pulled away and scooped up the fallen meds.
"What are you doing?" Roach watched as he walked into the bathroom. "Wait, Simon!" He followed him but too late, they were already being flushed away. "You asshole!"
"No Gary you're the asshole! You stole these from the infirmary didn't you?" Ghost ran a hand through his hair and sighed in exasperation. "Soap is going to kill you, he's going to fucking kill us both! Jesus, how long has this been going on? Since the accident?"
The realisation in his eyes made Roach feel terrible. "I-I'm sorry, I need them. They help numb the pain."
"Shit."
"Please Simon, don't tell anyone. We can keep this a secret."
"A secret?! You stole fucking meds!" Ghost was pacing now, almost pulling his hair out as he went.
Roach sat down on the bed and tried not to break down, but the shaking wouldn't stop. Only now did he realise how much shit he was in. "I didn't mean to, I just needed more pills."
Ghost ignored him. After a long time, he finally stopped and sighed. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. You are going to get cleaned up. No more pills do you hear me?" Roach nodded. "And we're never going to speak about tonight again. If Soap asks, we don't know about any missing meds, understand?"
"Ok."
"I need more than that. Promise me you won't take another pill." Ghost was kneeling next to the bed now, eyes burning intensly. "Swear to me, Gary."
"I promise."
That promise lasted one week. When Roach was cleaning his room he found some overlooked pills and couldn't help himself. Ghost found the leftover ones the following day and that was the end of their marriage. Trust was gone and without that, they had nothing.
Ghost moved back into his own quarters and they stopped talking. Roach tried so hard but the other man refused to even acknowledge him. He always managed to slip away or just blatantly ignored him and it hurt. But it was his own fault. Roach knew this and as the weeks turned into months he grew to understand their relationship was over.
Those months were torturous. He could barely look at Ghost, let alone talk to him. At base, he began avoiding the other man at all costs, acted like he didn't exist too. On missions, he gritted his teeth and got on with it because he had to.
When the papers arrived, Roach sat staring at the manilla envelope all morning and still couldn't open it. What had he expected? Over six months had passed and they'd barely spoken. Of course, Ghost wanted a divorce. Even the thought of the word made him want to cry. Roach curled up and fisted his hair tightly. It was his fault, all his fault. He rocked back and forth on the chair, almost falling off. Maybe if he did it would knock some sense into him.
Soap was the one who found him. He pulled out the papers and sighed as he read through them. "Are you surprised?"
"I can't..."
"Roach, you fucked up. You've had months and you haven't fixed things. Suck it up and sign the papers because we both know Ghost won't change his mind."
"On his side huh?"
"It's not about sides." Soap slid the papers in front of him. "It's about doing what's right." Then he left.
Soap had been giving him tough love ever since he found out about the pills. Roach didn't blame him, was grateful he still had a job. But it hurt, knowing that even his Captain was telling him this was the right choice. If it was right why did it hurt so much?
Roach stared at the bottom of the paper, Ghost's signature painful but real and right there in front of him. He'd signed the papers, he wanted a divorce. Roach looked at the ring on his finger and then the tears came. He'd lost everything.
With a shaking hand, he signed above his name.
Just like that their marriage was over.
Roach stopped wearing his ring after that and put it around his neck. Out of sight but never out of mind. The weight of it was a constant reminder of what he'd done, kept him from reaching into his drawer for that second bottle he'd stolen that nobody knew about.
Then one day Ghost came to his room with news. "Roach, I'm leaving."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm going away for a while. Soap's told me about this transfer request and I'm taking it. I can't be here with you anymore, it's killing me. One of us has to go and we both know you need stability." Ghost sighed and sat down next to him. "So this is goodbye."
"Well, goodbye." Roach stood up, hating being so close to someone he'd loved so much. Someone who didn't want him anymore.
Ghost scoffed. "That's it, just goodbye? You know what fuck you, Gary! Is that all you can say after everything we've been through?"
"There's nothing left to say. We signed the papers, it's over. What do you want from me? You want me to be sad? Do you want me to beg you to stay?"
"Tell me you give a shit!"
"I can't." Roach folded his arms over his chest, protecting himself. "We haven't talked in months, we can barely look at each other. There's nothing left Simon. You going away is a good thing, we both need to move on."
Once Ghost was gone it was like breathing for the first time again. Not having to see his face, hear his voice, Roach was no longer trapped. Slowly, piece by piece, he put himself back together until he began to feel like himself again.
