I may actually have a plot line for the story now! *Gasp* And from the looks of things it'll be quite long. Anyway. Next chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Sedatives

I opened my eyes and blearily scanned my surroundings, realizing that I had been moved to a different, smaller room. Its walls were made of large bricks that had been painted a musty green color and its floors consisted of cold, hard concrete. A closed, painted wooden door stood at the end of my bed. Two creaky beds were pushed against the room's corners, both slightly obscured by patterned curtains that hung from dusty metal rails. Distinct lumps under their woollen, light blue duvets told me that they were occupied. Another bed, opposite to mine, was empty.

Sun light filtered through a single, slightly ajar window, glinting off floating dust mites. The muffled noise of the busy streets below echoed through the room, punctuated occasionally by the blare of a horn or the whine of a baby. The whole place smelt of medicine, plastic and richly spiced food. My stomach grumbled in response causing me to smile slightly. I couldn't even remember the last time I ate!

The pain had now lessened to a dull throb. Bags of clear liquid and a bag of blood dangled from a flimsy rusty pole. Tubes were taped to my arms; sharp needles pierced my skin, releasing the fluid into my veins. A sphygmomanometer was strapped around my bicep, waiting to take my blood pressure again. I gingerly tried to stretch my abdominal muscles, gasping as it sent fresh waves of pain through me. Almost instantly the curtain covering the bed on my right opened with a metallic screech. A pair of dark blue eyes surveyed me, wide with concern.

"Roach?"

I flashed a grin at the man. Apart from the bruises and white tape that plastered his face, he looked no different than he had last time I saw him. His ruffled dark brown hair shaved into his trademark Mohawk. He looked completely exhausted but his face cracked into a smile as he watched me.

"In the flesh" I replied beaming at him.

He chuckled darkly. "Roach's are bloody difficult to kill aren't they?"

"There is a reason I have that nickname sir."

I fixed my eyes on the other bed opposite to MacTavish's, my stomach filling with concern. Ghost?

MacTavish's eyes followed mine to the sleeping figure. "He's still sleeping," he muttered.

"Is he going to be alright?" I asked quietly still staring at the bed.

"Doctor says he's going to make a full recovery," replied Soap, now eyeing me with concern. "You were both bloody lucky to have survived. Kamarov said that they had to pump 4 litres into the both of you."

The mention of the name caught me off guard. Kamarov? Wasn't he the guy who saved us? The confusion must have shown on my face because MacTavish snorted with laughter before he doubled over, wincing and swearing.

"So what happened? Did you kill Shepherd?"

A small triumphant smile appeared on Soap's face as he made eye contact with me. I knew that smile. The mission had been a success. MacTavish had had his revenge. Shepherd was dead.

A sigh escaped my lips. I felt relieved and uneasy at the same time. Shepherd had betrayed the Task Force 141, yes. And he had paid for his betrayal with his life. But at what cost? He had been one of the most influential generals in the west. I was sure that every man who had followed him would be after MacTavish and Price's blood.

"So what happened to you," I asked quietly.

"The bastard stabbed me through the chest. I've got 6 broken ribs, a fractured sternum, depressed skull fracture, a broken nose and a punctured lung," grunted MacTavish dismissively.

"Come off it Soap," chuckled a voice from the doorway. Price walked in followed by Nikolai and another man, who I didn't recognize. "What he failed to mention was he pulled out the knife Shepherd had rammed into his chest and threw it at the bastard!"

I gazed back at Soap in awe. Jesus you'd think the guy was Chuck Norris! Soap just shrugged, his expression unreadable and distant.

Price fixed a watchful eye on me. "Good to see you're up Roach" he muttered, pulling up a rickety metal chair beside my bed. I gave him a small smile in response. MacTavish tried to sit up in his bed, only to collapse, hissing through his teeth in pain.

"Soap! I swear if you try to sit up again I'll break your other ribs," growled Price, glaring at MacTavish.

Nikolai and the stranger both snickered while MacTavish glared at Price. The stranger had light red, curly hair and thick beard. Grey eyes twinkled under bushy eyebrows. He gave me a glance and a small nod of recognition, which I returned shyly.

"This is Kamarov," announced Price, noticing the exchange, "He picked you and Ghost up from the Caucasus Mountains."

I stared back at the man. He was the reason Ghost and I were still alive. An overwhelming sense of gratitude came over me as I extended my hand saying "Thank you."

"I'm sure Price would have done the same for me," replied Kamarov gruffly, shaking my hand. His voice was heavily accented. Russian.

A groan came from behind the curtained bed opposite MacTavish, causing every man in the room to jump and spin round to the source of the noise.

Price stood up and began to make his way, slowly, over to the bed, careful not to make noise on the stone floor. I tried to sit up, only to be greeted by the all too familiar stabbing pain in my gut. It was frustrating not being able to see what was going on.

"Good to see you awake Ghost," said Price, his voice muffled by the curtain.

"It's impossible to sleep through all your chatter."

Giddiness overcame me. Ghost was awake! Alive and awake!

Price just laughed and pulled back the curtain. Ghost looked a lot better than Soap did. Or maybe it was just because he hadn't had his face bashed in. The bed propped up his upper back, making his face completely visible to everyone in the room. Thin plastic tubes wound around his wrists and elbows. A bag of crimson red blood hung over his head. He blinked against the brightly lit room, trying to focus on his surroundings.

"How're you doing Ghost?" MacTavish had managed to prop himself up on his elbows to see the lieutenant.

"Just fucking dandy," replied Ghost in a husky voice. "Where's Roach?"

"Over here!"

Ghost focused on my bed, his face cracking into a sleepy grin.

"Good to see you alive mate"

"Yeah you too," I said, flashing him a toothy smile.

Ghost turned his attention back to Soap, surveying him for a while.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ghost mumbled. His eyes were half closed, as if he was fighting to stay awake.

BANG!

The door smashed open as 2 figures marched through the doorway. They wore crumpled light blue uniform, which consisted of a light blue skirt that reached halfway down the calf and rough cotton shirt with short sleeves. Both wore an expression of annoyance. I guessed they were nurses from the stethoscopes that hung around their necks. One strode over to my bed, the other to Ghost's. I glanced at the paper nametag stuck to the front of her shirt. Natasha. Her short black hair was tied back into a tight ponytail. Black rings under her eyes shone through concealer makeup. She scowled at me, like I had done something wrong. I shrunk away her instinctively.

"You should be asleep," she snapped, glaring at me.

I felt utterly perplexed. What do I say? Sorry for waking up?

I could have laughed at how silly it sounded even in my head, but I swallowed it down, terrified of what she'd do if she thought I found her funny while she was angry. I tried to look ashamed. I glimpsed at Price, who was busy trying to stifle a giggle, while Soap was bent over, laughing silently and wincing at the same time.

"Sorry," I mumbled. I had no idea what I was apologizing for but it was all I could think of. I glanced back at her face, hopeful. Her eyes seemed to soften slightly but she kept the scowl in place while her hands fluttered over tubes and wires. She unlocked a small wall cupboard next to my bed and pulled out a needle and syringe filled with clear liquid. I flinched at the sight. I hated needles. I had never been able to stand them. Even when I was little and I used to get a lollypop for sitting still and being a good boy, I hated them. Nurse Natasha must have noticed cause a small smirk spread across her lips. I think I preferred the scowl to the smirk. I focused on the ceiling and swallowed loudly, waiting for the sharp sting. Instead she shoved the needle into one of the IV tubes.

"You'll be asleep again in a few minutes," she announced, stalking away from me towards Soap's bed. I watched with amusement as she injected a dose of the chemical into Soap's IV line, much to his dismay.

Price moved back over my bed while the both nurses dealt with Ghost.

"So what are we going to do now?" I asked. I wanted to stay awake so that we could plan how to get the hell out of this mess. Questions raced through my head. Where were we going to go where we'd be safe from Shepherd's men? Who could we trust? My eyes flicked back to Kamarov. I owed him my life, but it would be a while until I could trust anyone again.

"We?" asked Price. "You, Ghost and Soap are going back to sleep. You obviously have no idea how badly you're hurt."

I noticed Soap roll his eyes behind Price, annoyed that he had no control over when he'd go to sleep. The sound of high heel shoes clacked across the concrete floor towards the door. My eyes drifted shut. It felt like I was floating an inch off the bed. I wanted to stay awake. We had important things to discuss! My body had other plans.

"We're discussing this when I wake up," I murmured back, finally giving into the drug.

Price's laughter bubbled around me as I fell asleep.

PHEW! Sorry but I couldn't resist the Chuck Norris comment. We all know Soap MacTavish could OWN Chuck Norris with one hand tied behind his back and a blind fold on. Thanks for reading!