"GHOST!"

Aghhh... my head... what's Roach screaming about? What happened? I know I had nothing to do with it this time... I was just flying and- flying? MACTAVISH!

His eyes snapped wide open as his senses returned. Now he could hear the Scot's screaming and the wind rushing by his ears. Not far, he could see him. All it took was a twist of his body and strong few beats of his wings to right himself before he swooped in to catch the falling man.

Now in his arms, he held onto Soap as the former Captain pulled in close. If he was terrified before, he was mortified now. He was hyperventilating and his grip was to the point where it was bone breaking. His knuckles turned white from holding on so tight, and his jaw tight and eyes sealed closed.

It took much an effort with the extra weight, but Ghost managed to raise up to the opposite side of the ravine where Roach was waiting. Looking pale with releif.

"You're okay!" He cheered weakly.

Ghost nodded and put Soap down. The man's eyes were wide with horror like a deer in the headlights. His usually moderately tanned skin lost it's color. In that moment, Ghost was scared that he might permenately loose the man due to shock. You die once, you come here. You die again in here, you're gone forever, or at least that's what he thinks. Maybe there's another demention after this. But you know what? Why am I even bothering with contemplating this? This just might be like dividing by zero for all we know, and we all know what that leads us to.

Does not compute. Error. Blue screen of death. The world ending as we know it. The usual.

"Tavish?" Ghost said shakily, trying to catch the man's attention, because as it was he was only staring off at nothing. Beyond what he could see. "MacTavish, answer me, dammit!" By now he was shaking him around, but still no responce. Or even a sign of his noticing.

In the not so distance, they could hear the howl of a dog as well as another banchee screech. They didn't have time to sit and wait for him to gather his bearings. They needed to move, and soon.

"I'll carry him." Shepard told him.

Ghost glared up at him, "What?" He could've sworn he heard Shepard ask to-

"I said I'll carry him." The old man repeated. "Those lost aren't gonna stay on the other side forever, they'll be on us in seconds. I know where to go, just let me carry MacTavish so we can get out of here."

"No. How do I know if you're not just gonna run off with him?" Ghost objected. Another screech, the lost were closer.

"You'll just have to trust me."

"I'll never trust you." He retorted, and took Soap by the forearm to pull him to his feet. Luckily, the distant Scot was still in the state of mind where he knew he had to move his feet. It made his job a lot easier. "Just get moving, we'll follow..."

"Fine." Clearly Shepard was a little hurt by Ghost's claim. Good. Let him be hurt. He deserves it. "The Sealers are to the West. This way." And with that, he started towards the setting sun.

He felt as though he were outside himself and yet he wasn't. He knew when to step forward, but yet it felt like it wasn't himself controlling his movements. Instead of being right where he should be, in control, he wasn't. He was off in some distant realm in his mind, where his memories had captured his attention and trapped him in an endless turrent.

"I'm sorry."

Somehow he felt himself seeing Price place the M1911 on his chest after he died. Eyes closed and head bent down in mourning. Yuri just stared at him, mouth open as if to say something before shutting it. After the silence, he watched Price take his journal and dogtags off of his body and the windows explode as bullets sprayed into the room.

"You can talk to him, you know."

He knew that voice. Though similiar to another face he had come to know, he would never forget this one. "Gaz?"

"Good to see I've not been forgotten." The voice chuckled. "You can talk to Captain Price."

"How?"

"Think. How did I talk to you?"

Soap looked up at nowhere. "In my sleep. But-?"

"It's no different, mate." Gaz intercepted. "Just try to reach him, and talk to him."

With that, he sighed, "Alright. But-."

"No 'buts', just do it." The Brit said a little more seriously.

And so Soap tried to reach out to Price, hoping Gaz was right. 'Please, Price. Hear me.'