He looked up quickly as he heard the brush of fabric and footsteps. And found himself staring right back at Price. He didn't say a word, neither one of them had. There was just a heavy silence, simply from the shock of seeing each other.
Now before this gets any further, there is to be noted now that some more of his memory returned to him. Simple things, some people he knew. He found out more about Price, not enough, but some. The older next to him, MacMillian, had been working to help him fill some of the holes in his memory with some success to an extent.
It had been mostly a process of asking random people if they had any idea who Price was and where. Turns out there was one guy, some man with auburn hair who wore a cap with a union jack as well as had a short scruffy beard. He seemed oddly familiar to him, but he did not know where. He told him that Price was in England, and gave him some money as well as directions to get there. So he accepted it and had started to walk away. When he turned back to say thanks, the man was gone without a trace.
And when he got to England? Let's just leave it at there was a TON of shocked people, and then MacMillian found him at some clocktower in Hereford. He was about to even point to the clocktower, when he looked right at a blank spot among many names -a few read people like "Griffen" or "Gaz", familiar names that he couldn't place-. At first it was just simple shock on his face, then it was warmth before he told him that he'd take him back to some base. And that's how he got here.
Now he sat in front of Price, awkwardly and unsure. Was he even sure this man truly knew him? Not in the slightest.
That's when all his doubts and fears had been confirmed to be false.
Price finally had shaken himself out the shock, and he blinked slowly before saying in a near whisper, "Soap?"
He looked down his lap.
The older stepped a little closer. "Soap?" He then reached down for his shoulder, his hand kept a strong and firm grip, and so he looked back up. The very uncertainty that had been the depths of the Brit's steely blue eyes moments ago vanished away with some form of reconistion. This clear change in his expression was followed by him being pulled into a tight hug.
To it, Soap remained stiff, unsure what to do. Hug back? Push him off? Pat his back? What? Slowly he wrapped an arm around him and rubbed Price's shoulder blade as a sign of reassurence.
He hadn't even realized the tears that had escaped the other's eyes until he let go, his eyes reddened and wet. "I can't believe it... How?"
Soap couldn't explain what he didn't know, so he shrugged.
To that, MacMillian came in, much to his relief. "Price, he hardly has a clue who he is. Whatever happened, he can't remember it. He might recall it, or he might not. Just give him time."
Price nodded to that slowly. Then looked back to Soap. "It's really you, son?"
He forced a weak smile to his face. "It's really me, Price."
He found himself surprised when he was pulled to his feet by the older, then brought into another embrace. Price hissed a breath in an attempt to calm himself, with little success. "Welcome home."
That was when he remembered the rest...
THE END!
Hope you guys liked it! I had such a fun time writing this. And now it's over.
I'm consitering a new story to work on, and I have a couple ideas. I'm letting you, the viewers give me your opinion on which on you wanna see. And remember, if I don't do one right away, then I'll do it shortly after.
-When the Task Force is sent to free slaves, they don't expect they themselves to become the very thing that they try to stop. Now it's up to Price to get everyone out of this mess. Humor and Suspence, and will probably be rated T.
-Something's wrong with Ghost, Soap only took until now to notice. He hasn't slept well, he seems to hold a haunted expression where ever he goes, and he's been disappearing at night. Does it have any connection to the men vanishing on the trails and being found unconscious and with some blood drained of their body? Paranormal and Angst, rated T.