Disclaimer: I do not own Call of Duty, it belongs to Infinity Ward.
A/N: Updates will be every week on Fridays.
Chapter Two
'Beep, beep, beep, beep!' The alarm clock rang loudly quite early in the morning. From under the blanket a hand came forth and aimlessly reached for the noisy thing to shut it up. Tapping at his nightstand with his hand, still in search for the alarm, the beeping sound just got louder and faster. The man underneath the blanket snorted, in an instant he got up and silenced the alarm. Finally nice and quiet. Looking out of his bedroom's window, the morning sun blinded him in a matter of seconds, making him avert his eyes to somewhere else.
Getting out of his bed, MacTavish rubbed his eyes out of sleep and headed straight for the bathroom to brush his teeth. While doing so, he looked in the mirror, the circles under his clear blue eyes just got darker and the white of his eyes were red in the corners. He has been suffering from sleep deprivation for more than a few months now, even the medications given by several doctors won't help him sleep. Passing out was his only means of rest.
After rinsing his mouth, he did the everyday routine that he was required to do every mornings. Which was cooking and eating breakfast, washing the dishes, taking a shower and getting himself dressed, because today he was going to the hospital to visit a friend. He made his way there by car, he quickly stopped by a small shop to get a flower bouquet and a box of chocolate for his friend, before finally getting there.
Now he was finally standing in front of the door, but he couldn't make himself knock at it. The conscience in his heart made him hesitate. He wasn't even sure if his friend will be pleased to see him, after all, he didn't said anything beforehand that he was coming to visit him and its been almost a month since he last seen him. His cowardice won over him, he turned around and was about to leave but the door suddenly opened to reveal a fully bandaged man.
"John?" MacTavish was startled by the sudden mention of his name. He faced the owner of the voice and forced a smile.
The man smiled, "Seriously, if you want to visit me then just come in. No need to hesitate." He looked at MacTavish's face filled with guilt, yet a faint hint of happiness was visibly formed on his lips. The man moved aside, opening the door wider to invite his friend inside. "Come in."
The room was small but big enough for one person. The walls were painted white. The bed was white. The curtains were white. The table and chairs were white. Everything was white, even the patient was covered in pureness. Seeing the color last, before sleeping and first, after waking must be sickening to the eyes. Well at least MacTavish was sure he would feel that way. For him white has a special meaning of being everything good, which he wasn't any bit.
"I- I brought flowers and chocolates... for you." He slowly handed Roach his gift.
Roach smiled and placed the chocolates on his table while the flowers were place in the vase beside his bed. "Thanks a lot man! You really know what type of chocolates I want. And its more refreshing now, having some color in this room." He looked over to MacTavish, he noticed that he has been fidgeting ever since he entered his room. Roach pointed at the chair. "Take a seat." he said as he sat down on the other end of the table.
MacTavish's eyes were glued on the floor as he took his seat. It seemed as though he was searching for answers or something like that, or perhaps he was recollecting himself. He opened his mouth, yet no words came out. He tried to look the younger man into the eyes but his eyes were so unfocused that it kept on moving to somewhere else, making it harder for him to even look straight. "Gary, about what happened. I'm really sorry. I- I... just didn't know what I was doing. Everything-"
"Hush. Its alright, John. I forgive you. I guess that paranoia of yours was no joke. It has just put you on the edge for too long that you mistook even the handsome me for that sneaky stalker of yours. Anyway, I really like it here and hey, I've finally got the break that I needed from the call center. There's also a lot of hot and cute nurses around, I got pretty famous here quickly because of my looks." Roach raised his eyebrows and laughed childishly like he always did and it never fails to make MacTavish smile in return. "The sun is shining bright today, isn't it? Come, take a walk with me." The younger man asked as he stood up.
MacTavish nodded. "But can you walk?"
Gary gave him a smug smile. "I wouldn't be offering if I couldn't even do that simple thing. And besides, you're there to help me even if I do fall."
-xxxx-xxxx-xxxx-
It was a bit breezy outside for Roach with his attire, but the sun was doing a great job in keeping the young man warm enough. They walked through the hospital's garden full of beautiful flowers. It felt somewhat oddly refreshing for the both of them. "So..." Roach cleared his throat before continuing. "Hows job hunting going?" He asked as they took a seat on one of the benches.
"Well." MacTavish shrugged his shoulder. "Its pretty much doing fine, some are interested, ignoring the fact that I beat a colleague half to death. I have a few interviews planned for next week. I hope I'll get accepted in one of them."
"Sorry to hear that. But cheer up. I've got news for you, if you've got no where else to go I could help you. A friend of mine is a manager of some sort of restaurant. He'll surely let you in. You should consider it and I'll talk with him about it. Hes a nice guy after all and he likes people like you."
'People like me.' MacTavish repeated to himself. He was sure that what Roach meant was him being nice, hardworking and all. But to him it sounded more like he was grouped with a group of insane.
MacTavish smiled, it would have been a great offer. "I'll keep that in mind." His reply was a simple act of politeness, he already knew that depending on Roach wasn't really what he intended to do, since he already dealt enough damage to the younger one. Asking for help would be the last thing he'll do.
He felt so pathetic, his best friend has been fighting for his life, stuck in a coma for about a month and after waking up he just accepts him and offers him a job like nothing happened at all. Gary should be angry at him. He wanted Gary to be angry at him so he would feel more punished, so he wouldn't forget his sin. Was he that pathetic that even Gary wouldn't blame him for what he'd done to him? Did they all started to think that he was unstable and couldn't handle that much?
Pathetic. The word kept repeating inside of him. He didn't want people to see him as something like that. Why does this have to happen to him of all people? He kept asking himself. There must be a good reason behind it.
"John!" Roach shouted, shaking him back to earth. "You alright, man?"
MacTavish stared at Roach in horror, the younger man's face started to distort, he was ginning at him. The mouth moving, repeating the word 'pathetic' over and over. His eyes judging and discouraging him. His hands slowly crawling up to choke him. He couldn't breath, he was frozen on the spot. MacTavish looked like a scared little kitten, trembling with big eyes before its predator.
"You seriously don't look good, John. I'm worried, I think you should go home." Roach said softly and held the older man's shoulder.
As if awaking from sleep, Mactavish just rubbed his eyes. "No, I'm fine. It... Just a little headache. Nothing to worry about." He grabbed a bottle full of pills from his jacket and poured two pieces on his hand and gulped it down.
Roach was eyeing the bottle, being suspicious of it. "You sure its just a headache? You could talk to me if you want."
"I'm fine, really." MacTavish said, standing up and returning the bottle in his jacket. He was starting to feel a little dizzy and tired. "Shall we continue the walk?" He asked holding a hand out for Roach.
Roach nodded and grabbed MacTavish's hand. They walked a few more rounds around the hospital's garden before finally returning to Roach's room. Seeing as the doctor was already waiting in the room, MacTavish said his goodbye and drove home.
-xxxx-xxxx-xxxx-
MacTavish's house is in the middle of nowhere, big, cold and dark. It didn't felt as safe as it used to be. Unlike the old days when his parents were still alive, he thought of it as an impenetrable fortress then. Now it just felt like his house was made of glass and everyone could see him from the outside, only waiting for the right timing to break in. Even though MacTavish is a tough man, even he can feel afraid sometimes. It scares him that he feels watched all the time. Just like right now. The sun is out, yet he feels eyes staring at him even though no one else is around.
The doorbell rang, it startled him a little. He didn't invite anyone over for lunch today, if he remembers correctly. He quickly grabbed the baseball bat which was hidden between the couch's and the floor's gap. Cautiously nearing the front door with a bat in his hand he shouted, "Who's there?"
The person on the other side knocked. "Soap, its me." The voice of a familiar man replied.
MacTavish knew right away who it was, since there is only one man alive who calls him Soap. He immediately unlocked multiple chain locks to open the door. The man on the other side was a lot older and a little taller than MacTavish. He had a full beard and wore a brown bonnie hat. In his hand he was holding a plastic bag.
"Took you a bloody while." The man who entered complained. While taking off his jacket, he dumbly stared at MacTavish's hand holding the bat. "Whats with the bat, are you going to play baseball?" He hung his jacket and hat on the wooden coat stand.
MacTavish stared at the bat. "Oh... no, its nothing." He closed the door and leaned the bat on the side of the door. "Anyway what are you doing here, old man?" He said with a hint of excitement in his voice, he smiled as he followed the man to the kitchen.
The older man laughed. "This old man got a name too and that would be Price." He was taking out pans, cutting boards and knives from the kitchen's drawers. "Help me with this, Soap." He handed MacTavish a knife.
Clueless of what to do, MacTavish asked, "What am I supposed to do with this?"
Price gave him a small sack of potatoes and a bundle of yellow turnips from the plastic bag. "Peel and cut them in cubes."
Without further questions he just did as he was told. While he was peeling the vegetables, Price filled the big sauce pan with water and let it boil on the stove. As the water began to boil he gently placed the big round sausage from the plastic bag in the pot and lowered the heat at the same time. He went over to MacTavish and helped him with slicing the vegetables.
"Whats the occasion?" MacTavish asked, as he thought the room was getting a little too silent.
Price shrugged his shoulder. "Nothing. I just thought that we hadn't had lunch together for a while now. And today would be a good opportunity to do that."
MacTavish stopped cutting, tightly gripping the knife in his hand. "We're not..." The sentence stopped halfway. He bit his lower lip, the words that he wanted to say just wouldn't come out. The truth still hurts him until now.
"Yeah, I know." Price forced a smile, though his eyes bared a hurtful glance. "I'm doing this as your friend."
-xxxx-xxxx-xxxx-
The event took place a few days after the incident with Roach. MacTavish was fired from the call center and was accused for assault. The news spread quickly like wildfire. He felt terrible about the happenings, yet couldn't say anything about it. Who would believe a criminal like him? He was the wrongdoer, not the victim.
MacTavish patiently waited in the dark living room. He made up his mind, he doesn't want to hurt nor drag people down with him.
The door clicked open, heavy footsteps entered the house and with a loud bang the door was closed. The new figure in the dark turned the lights on, surprised when he saw MacTavish sitting on the couch.
"Soap." He called out for the man who was deep in thought.
"Price." The name was called in a hoarse voice by the sitting man. He was staring at the older man almost with visible guilt in his eyes.
"Whats the matter?" Price dropped everything he was carrying on the floor and made his way to him, sitting beside him. It was the first time for him to see MacTavish very down.
The Scot inhaled sharply and breathed out slowly. He placed his head on his hands and slowly, without moving his hands to much, he raised his head up to look at Price again. His gaze shifted to the floor then to his hands, which were still covering a part of his mouth, he tapped his lips lightly with them. "Lets break up." The words were short but painful.
Price couldn't believe his ears. He was scared to ask if he heard it right because it would only hurt him more. "Soap..." He was speechless. In difficult times like these did he less expect the man to break up with him, he thought that he would become the pillar of support for the younger one. "You're just confused with the whole situation. We can work things out." He took MacTavish's hands into his, removing it from his mouth and knelt in front of the man. "There's no need to break up if you're having trouble. We can fix it, together." He kissed the Scot's hand and looked at him with a gentle smile. His hand made his way to MacTavish's face, caressing his cheek soothingly. His face nearing the other, touching forehead to forehead and nose to nose.
"No, this is my problem." MacTavish gently pushed him away. "I'll only drag you down."
"Bollocks! If its your problem then its my problem too. We're together, remember?" The older man tried to reason. He was not prepared for this to happen just yet.
His eyebrows furrowed, his facial expression more hurt than before. "Price, enough! I don't want to hear anything anymore. Its over between us." He said covering his ears and shaking his head. Like a child refusing to listen to a scolding.
Price did not like MacTavish's actions one bit, he had enough of his childish acts. He grabbed the other's hands and brought them up his head and forcefully pushed him to the side. The Scot landed on his injured rib, gasping for air as the pain spread. Price proceeded in pinning MacTavish down on the couch as the other was still busy dealing with the pain he inflicted. "I understand that you are feeling down, but to break up just because of little things like these, really? I told you we can work it out!"
"You don't understand a damn thing at all!" He shouted at the older man, struggling to break free.
"Of course I do! I'm your bloody lover!" The British man forcefully kissed him.
MacTavish stopped struggling, he became quiet as tears rolled down his eyes. 'It hurts so much.' He felt his chest tightening. He loves Price so much. Price stopped as he saw the other crying, he released his hands and backed away a little. "I'm sorry."
The Scot's hands reached out, grabbing the collar of the man above him, tightly taking a grip on it and pulling him down towards himself. "I'm scared, Price." He whispered, shivering and closing his eyes when more tears came out. "What if, one day I'll hurt you too. I can't trust myself anymore. I feel sick, sick in the head. If this keeps on going, maybe one day I'll just wake up with a pool of blood next to me."
It was hard on both of them. Neither one wants to break up, but it had to be done. Price, being the older one, knows whats best for them, as he is more mature and experienced than the other. He knew that his presence will only hurt and frighten the younger one more. He has to let go, even though it hurts. Price smiled, trying to act calm, though his eyes revealed completely something else. "I love you, John MacTavish." He kissed his lover passionately for the last time.
MacTavish warped his arms around the older man, giving him his last kiss before finally letting go. "I love you too, John Price."
Price removed MacTavish's house key from his bundle of keys. He grabbed one of the younger's hand and placed the key on his palm, returning it. "I'll still be there as your friend, so I'll be waiting for you when you're ready again." Those were the last words Price spoke to him before he left the house.
MacTavish remained lying on the couch, covering his eyes with his arms and crying all the pain away.