A note from Sassy: I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who read/reviewed the first chapter! You were all very kind and it certainly got me motivated to get this chapter finished. Either way, I hope you enjoy it just as much. :)
"But you know what they say. You just can't seem to kill a ghost.
"It was a hallucination. It had to be. Soap was lying there, bleeding to death and his brain was grasping at straws, desperately trying to keep him calm. He was thankful for it, after all he'd seen dying men panic far too many times and Mactavish had no desire to go out in the same writhing mass of flailing limbs.
Maybe this was what death was? An image of someone already dead coming forward to help you make the same transition. Soap had never believed in any of that spiritual bollocks before, but right then with his blood oozing out into the sandy wastes and the hands of a dead man examining his wounds, Soap was willing to believe just about anything. Anything but the possibility that the man hunched over his torn body was Simon Riley, the one death that Mactavish had never been able to shake off. The pain had always seemed to run too deep.
With his heart pumping a fresh swell of blood to his wounds, the sand infested base around them became darker, as if grey scaled. Firm hands pressed against his side and this time Soap let out a sharp hiss of pain, his left foot digging into the dirt as his whole body tensed. His eyes were heavy, slowly drooping, every fresh blink feeling as if it might kill him. It was as if his body was becoming resigned to its fate. The fight of the adrenaline had left his system abruptly, and every fibre of his being seemed intent on simply sending Soap to sleep. He was so tired after all. Even the burning agony was beginning to subside as his body slowly became numbed by blood loss…
"John!" There was a hard impact across his right cheek and Soap opened his eyes instantly, blinking furiously. Pale, icy blue eyes were staring back at him through a strange black mask and yet they were still so familiar, so clear. Soap coughed slightly, trying to fix on them rather than let his eyes close again, fighting the urge to blink with every bit of strength that he could muster. "Stay with me…you hear me? Just you stay with me…"
Soap smiled softly. It had to be a hallucination. A good one at least. And maybe it was his time. After all, he had no idea how this new world worked anymore, no idea where he fitted in amongst all the war and the fighting. He would never stop being a soldier, but now he was one with no purpose, no affiliation. Why not just let it all end now? Soap smiled again, although the action was slack and barely even noticeable. He relished the feeling of letting his weary arms drop to his sides, allowed himself one last glance at the deep blue of the sky. It was time to put an end to all the fighting…
"JOHN!" There was another slap, harder this time, although the impact only made him open his eyes, the tingles of pain lost amongst greater feelings. Ghost's mask was there again, closer this time, yet in his eyes remained the same intensity. "I mean it, Mactavish…you've come too far to give up now…it's going to take one hell of a lot more than this to kill you, alright?" In any other circumstances Ghost's voice would have been alien with concern and fear, but right then to Soap his words were merely that, just words. They were simply false echoes, not warm and comforting like the unconsciousness that he craved…
Soap was vaguely aware of Ghost taking his comm. from around his neck and speaking into it, the words barely audible through the pounding that seemed to be closing in around his ears.
He was drifting, his body felt light, limp, as if it wasn't really there anymore. His thoughts became a jumble, a heap of tattered memories and obscure ideas. It was getting so dark now, his eyes covered by grey film, and yet Soap could barely even tell whether they were open or closed. It felt as if he would never understand anything ever again. Above him idle words echoed, a raised voice barking orders, but even with the best will in the world Soap simply couldn't hear them. His consciousness was leaving him now, whether he wanted it to or not.
"No, no, no! Don't you fucking dare! You hear me, John? John! You can't give up now, not like this. You just can't. After everything that's happened…I can't lose you. Not like this."
But it didn't matter to Soap anymore. All that did matter now was sleep and rest. Maybe even some peace…
Again I ask you for your opinions, since the lovely reviews I got last time made me speed up and get the chapter out. Thanks so much for reading of course if you get this far :)
-x-S-x-