Roach sighed as he shuffled quietly onto the cargo plane, his throat itched and scratched as he glanced at all the faces before sitting down with a dejected huff, flicking his visor down. They weren't all going to come back, their deaths looming over them like a shadow. Some of their omens were stronger than others, a higher chance of their death sticking.

"You good Bug?" Ghost rumbled as he dropped down beside him, his dark threatening aura a balm to Roach.

Ghost was the only person Roach could look at without seeing death, for the man caused enough of it on his own, had already died too many times for it to stick.

'Not all of them will make it back.' Roach signed, hand hidden just enough for Ghost to see and no one else.

"Hm," Ghost replied neutrally. It didn't ease Roach but then again, he knew there wasn't much else he could say considering their job.

Being a Banshee was a terrible burden, Roach hated it but has come to accept what he is.

He couldn't deal with the constant taste of blood on his tongue when growing up, the niggling feeling of death that loomed over his shoulders as he walked through a sea of faceless people, their deaths the only thing that he noticed.

It never made any sense when he wept for them when he wailed. He couldn't understand when he was younger why everyone around him seemed to die, why he felt the uncontrollable urge to weep and scream. His mother had sat him down and told him, explaining his curse so to speak. Boys weren't supposed to be Banshee's, it was rare and unheard of, but he was born to be a herald of death.

Well, supposed to just be a herald but sometimes he caused it.

It's why he joined the military, exposure therapy so to speak, in the beginning, it eased the desire to scream, to bring forth the death to those that heard it rapidly but oh... he... it grew worse when he grew close to his team. It strangled him, like a hangman's noose around his throat as he fought day in and day out to hold off the deaths of those he held dear.

He stopped speaking in general, couldn't, wouldn't risk it.

The first person to know what he truly was, was Ghost. The man had found Roach curled tight in a ball on the roof one night, calmed him from weeping and grounded him. They had become inseparable after that, the man who wore Death like a cloak and the one who herald it.

Ghost took him under his wing so to speak and helped him control the urges, had helped him perfect Sign and took the brunt of their teams' ribbing when Roach began to wear his own mask that pressed his jaw shut, to carry goggles dark enough to trick his brain into thinking the Omens on his friends were their shadows.

Then Soap came along a bright ball of sunshine with a trigger-happy finger for explosions. Roach avoided him like the plague, he didn't want to see this man's death. Didn't want to have to explain to Ghost, who had become increasingly attached to the man…

He had never seen Ghost so besotted, so happy.

"Are you well Mäuschen?" König whispered as he dropped to Roach's other side, his eyes soft and sweet.

His brother looked at Soap like König looked at him and Roach wouldn't be the one to bring that all down with the Omen he could see that clung to the man like an… No!

His eyes flickered to the left where Ghost and Soap were, a tremor in his hand as he took stock of the inferno around Soap. He shouldn't have looked, he should have kept his eyes adverted but the pull was stronger today, the noose tightening till he could barely breathe.

"Easy Mausezähnchen," König whispered as he grasped his love's hand in his own, accepting the death grip and drawing Roach's gaze away from Ghost and Soap. His own heart ached as he saw the terror in the eyes of his love and felt his own slip close at the realisation. 'We won't let it happen.'

The determination and fierceness in König's eyes as he signed his promise settled Roach, of course, they wouldn't. They would never let Soap die, all of the 141 too stubborn and vicious, each one fighting off death daily. Soap would not succumb just like they all wouldn't succumb.

Unbeknownst by all Soap would be the first in fact to cause Roach to break his vow of silence.

Soap was injured, ears ringing from an explosion he couldn't get away from fast enough, shrapnel burning in his leg, side, and chest. His hands shook as he fumbled for his holstered handgun as he watched the enemy stalk towards him, their own weapons raised. If he was going to die here, then he was going to die fighting.

God forbid Soap MacTavish ever went out without a fight.

He felt his eyes close briefly, thoughts of Ghost and how this would affect him flickering across his mind. I'm sorry mo ghràdh… he thought towards his love, aiming his gun up with shaking hands. He could feel the fire in his chest, his lungs heaving.

Shite his head hurt…

Then suddenly when all hope seemed to be lost, Roach is there, leaning over Soap with his mask down, rage in his eyes the likes Soap has only seen on the 6'2 shadow that was normally with him. It took him a moment to realise what was happening, Roach's mouth was wide, wider than he thought should be... the hand that was connected with him was vibrating as Soap shook off the confusion.

It was then he realised Roach was screaming, so loud and violently that it rippled in the air. The world slowed as his eyes moved towards the terrorists that were advancing on him, they now lay sprawled broken and mangled further back than they were.

Roach closed his mouth with a snap, eyeing the men dead before him briefly as he presses down on the wounds of his friend, his family, his jaw clenched tight to the point he could swear he heard his teeth crack. He won't scream now, won't herald the death of Soap of all people, the man who made his brother smile. He refused to even entertain that thought.

'You'll be okay, I promise, you'll be okay, I hurt you...' he signed rapidly with one hand, blinking as Soap chuckled wetly.

Soap grabbed Roach's hand that pressed down on the wound in his chest. "Ah thought that whin mah time came a'd see bean-nighe by th' burn o' mah home... Bit a'm glad tis ye… a'm glad tis ye."

'No, no… don't say that, Soap!' Roach signed as he frantically looked around for Ghost, König... anyone. Except there was no one here, no one who could help as they had been separated by the explosion and the increased numbers of terrorists.

Roach only found Soap because he could see the fire that hung around Soap, the omen pulling him bodily across the field of the dead. Fear choked him now, hands shaking and tears pooling down his eyes and onto Soap's chest. Please… I didn't summon you… do not take him…

Panic swelled as Soap coughed, his head whipping to the side as blood splashed across his face, it was scorching hot… wrong. "KÖNIG! GHOST! HELP!"

His voice rippled across the field, over the moans of the dead and dying, over the cacophony of war. He hadn't screamed with his real voice in so long that he had almost forgotten what it sounded like. Relief crashed through him as he realised that the Banshee Voice was not in the words but that vanished like a snuffed flame as he realised that only happened if he was alone.

Wide eyes snapped down to Soap who was still as death… no. NO!

Roach moved with abandon as he ripped Soap's tac vest off and began CPR. He could taste the blood on his tongue, metallic and decay, made worse as he continued to call for König, for Ghost.

The air seemed to still, the sound dropping to deathly silence before Roach heard it. A scream, rage and then the vibrations of hundreds of leathery wings beating the air. König heard him, his eyes drifted to the sky in relief as a shadow blocked out the sun. The swirling mass of bats whirled around them like a hurricane, twisting and solidifying into the gigantic form of König.

His mask was gone, hanging limply at his waist, features twisted in fury, fangs glinting in the sun like garnets and eyes the depths of a raging sea. He looked like damnation and salvation all in one, coated head to toe in ruby.

The ferocity died the moment his eyes landed on Soap, his nose flaring at the smell of their friend's blood. It was thick, thicker than those of the dead around them than the blood that dripped off König… enough for even Roach to smell.

"Please love. Help." Roach sobbed, taking in the surprise on König's face before it morphed into one of sadness.

"I'm sorry mein Lieber, he's gone…" König whispered brokenly, pulling Roach's hands away from Soap's chest his own heart breaking as Roach fights him, jaw clenched shut and eyes wild with tears. Roach shook his head vigorously, bloody hands clamping over his mouth in agony.

"JOHNNY!" Ghost screamed as he tore around the broken wall and burning debris. His eyes glanced over Roach who was crying in König's arms, who was rocking him with his eyes locked downwards and to Soap who lay broken at their side.

His feet skidded across blood-soaked earth and debris, knees screaming as they slam down and slide across the rough terrain to his Johnny's side. He can feel his mouth moving as he presses down on the wound, words escaping him but could not for the life of him hear the words being said… not over the ringing in his ears.

It was hot, too hot… the air stifling.

He looked down and blinked, his eyes taking in the glowing edges of the jagged wounds on Johnny's torso and leg, skin flaking away like burning paper. It jumpstarted something within his brain, a whisper in the dead of night by scorching lips.

Johnny whimpered as Ghost thrusted slowly within him, his face was buried into Simon's shoulder, lips kissing tenderly at the junction of his neck where a scar pulled at his skin. Soft whispered Scot Gaelic followed each kiss that sent Simon wild.

He loved this man… "Please never leave me, Johnny, promise me. I can't do this without you." He whispered brokenly, pulling the Scot back so their foreheads rested together.

"Ah mo ghràdh, mo chridhe… Nothing kin tak' me awa' fae ye…" Soap promised, lips scorching against his own and trailing to the shell of his ear. "Death cannae keep me, my kind are born from flames."

"Fuck… FUCK! Back away!" He ordered as he scrambled backwards, pulling the shadows around him as Johnny seemed to pulse with heat.

König twirled, hiding Roach from view as Johnny was engulfed in flame. It burnt bright and hot, dancing flickers of blues, whites and reds. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing Ghost has ever seen but then again anything that involved Johnny he found stunning, this was no different even if it was born from death.

A cry filled the air, familiar and deep.

"Johnny?" He called as the fire died down.

All three of them had blinked in shock as they took in Soap, he was on his knees, naked body heaving in the midst of molten rock and scorched earth. Ghost could see that his body had changed, gone were the scars he came to be familiar with, including the one that rested several inches above his heart where he was shot by graves. Gone were the tattoos and the wounds from the bomb, and in their place was fresh unblemished skin.

Roach tore himself from König's arms and dove for Soap, sobs breaking free as he pulled the man close to him. He didn't care that whatever part of his skin touched Soap burned, he just cared that the man he considered family was alive… that he didn't kill him with his scream, didn't herald death's embrace.

"Aye shh, Roach, I'm okay… ah didn't mean tae worry ye, ah wish ah cuid hae tellt ye but… I was nae sure it'd work…" Soap trailed off as he felt Ghost slam into him as well. "We need tae move."

"We are safe here, I made sure when Mausezähnchen called." König's voice was soft, his accent thick with emotion. "Price is on his way."

Soap sags forward in the arms of his lover and friends, safe, exhausted. He hadn't had the need to be reborn since he was young, surprising considering his line of work… but he forgot how exhausting it was, how everything felt raw. The next few months were going to be agony he knew, having to relearn all the muscle memory, and reform all the callouses on his hands.

Fuck, his skin was sensitive to the point it felt like knives cutting into him, but Ghost's cold hand felt like fire and soothed it away. Everything was new, it was maddening.

He pulled Roach closer to him, hand wrapping around his helmet and gently clasped the mask back to his face. Next, he turned to König, taking in the blood-drenched skin, black-as-tar eyes and pulsing veins briefly and pushed the mask back to the Vampire. He knew that König would be in agony right now, the sun burning into his own skin even though it was smothered by clouds and smoke.

"I'm sorry Roach, I should nae made you think that it was your fault." Soap breathed out once everything was set to right. "I should nae been in the position to make ye break the vow, I know how much talking hurts to a bean-nighe."

Fuck he should have seen that sooner. He knew many of them after all, his sister had married one, he knew the signs and he had missed them all when it came to Roach. Fuck, the man had always avoided looking at everyone, especially him, and so did Maria. The aura of a phoenix was blinding to those that could see it.

'You knew?' Roach signed as he pulled away from Soap's embrace and leant back into König's.

"Nae, not till I saw you scream. Thank ye for that, would not have liked to die by bullets." Soap replied shamefully. "Should have the moment I met ye, my sister-in-law is one. I could have eased ye worries about me long ago, ah burn bright for a Phoenix."

"Fuck Johnny." Ghost cursed low in his throat, burrowing his face into Johnny's neck as he pulled all the shadows around them all and kept them from prying eyes. He knew there was not a soul left, not after König burst into bat form after he screamed, something the Vampire hated to do and it was what alerted Ghost that something bad had happened.

All three of them knew that seeing Soap die would be another scene to add to their repertoire of nightmares.

"I'm sorry for worrying you all, we'll talk more when we get back to base okay?" Soap murmured into Ghost's neck, his words loud enough for all as he felt their arms wrap around him tightly, though it just brought him back to another predicament. "Though uh, one of ye will need to give me ye jumpers. I seem to 'ave found myself in my birthday suit, blasted fire."

Chuckles all around. "Ja Vögelchen, mine will cover more zen Ghosts."

"Thanks, König. Appreciate it."

Roach sighed as he watched König take off his outer coat and pulled off his sweater, handing it to Soap with ease. Something settled within him now, though not fully, not till his eyes settled on Ghost who watched him with soft eyes and gave a slight tilt to his head that only Roach would see, one that told him Ghost was not mad at him.

A ragged exhale left Roach's lips, he hated being a banshee, but today… today he was able to save a friend. Some days were worth the agony, today was one of them.