Warning! This fic is slash, so if you don't like that, don't read. I should probably also warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little.

Note from Sassy: It's nearly 3.30am, and I have just finished writing...I'm feeling pretty dedicated (And tired...). I apologise for this chapter being later than usual, but with the run up to Christmas and the party season things are getting a little busier for me. Either way, here is another chapter, and yes, before someone tells me, I know I suck at writing action scenes. But I've had a go, honest. :)

And of course, I would be no one without my lovely reviews!

VerityA: Well, I am beginning to ask myself that very question, who does need a plot when you have Soap and Ghost? :P And don't worry, knowing me and my rambling, this fic has some life in it yet. :)

xGhostxStealth: Hey, don't worry about it, I'm just glad that you managed to catch up. And as always, thank you so much, you really are very lovely. :D I'm glad that you're liking the plot, and I am over the moon that you're enjoying the GhostxSoap stuff too… And it came across as loving! Yay! Its hard to write loving when you have two alpha males :S Thank you so so much! :)

Reeserella: Ahh, well I'm glad your feeling was correct. Cake is definitely not a lie either. :P Thanks for reviewing.

GubbleBum96: I think Soap needs your distraction techniques… And yay for you finally getting rid of the demon baby! *hugs all round* I'm glad that you enjoyed my not so explicit slash anyway. I like to leave a little to the imagination usually, so I was a bit worried. Thanks for the lovely review!

Greenyfox: I told you they'd be happy! Lol and yeah, poor Soap, trapped and left behind. :( As for Ghost and Price, you'll have to read on. *hugs*

Yunalein: Haha, I think Soap needs all the distractions he can have. I'm so pleased that you like my story though, and thank you for the lovely comment about my writing style! I know I need to reply to your message too, which I will. :)

duvalia: I'm going to pm a reply so that I don't spoil anything for you.

xStealthxSniperx: Haha well I am very glad that you enjoyed the way the smut turned out. Thank you for the review as always. :)

Strude: I'm replying to both your comments here. I'm glad you liked chapter five, and especially that you thought it was powerful, since that was what I working for. And you used my favourite word ever lol, 'eloquently'. As for chapter eleven, well it was a tease, but you know, teasing is hot. :) Either way, I hope you keep enjoying the story and telling me what you think! Thank you :)

So without further ado, let's get going with chapter 12!

Right now, this was the last place he wanted to be.

Sighing, Riley looked around, taking in the dull, dark surroundings of the Pave Low interior. The air was stale and surprisingly hot considering that it was early morning, the conditions cramped as the four of them knelt in a huddle, holding on for dear life. Above him he could hear the whir of the blades, their every rotation producing a strange beat, which sounded through the metal of the craft, making it almost feel as if it had a heart. Directly beside him Price and Lev were smoking, speaking to each other in low voices that he was unable to make out. Markov, a tall, very young looking blonde man was to Ghost's left, checking over his gun.

"You miss him don't you?" When Markov spoke, his voice had a distinct accent, yet the English beneath it was near perfect.

"Who?"

"The man you lost." Markov smiled, nodding to Ghost's hands. The lieutenant hadn't particularly realised it, but he was holding Roach's dog tags in his hands, turning them over and over between his fingers. "They're his…yes?"

"H-how did you know?"

"The others used to mention you a lot…Roach and Ghost." He shrugged lightly. "When they first brought in your friend, John, he had been stabbed and was delirious. He kept yelling your names." Nodding softly, Markov put down his gun, giving the gentlest of smiles to Ghost. "You were close?"

"We were all close; I guess that's how it gets when you save each other's lives ten times over." Riley paused, although he didn't dwell on why he found the other man so trustworthy. "We lost others that day too…but Roach…he was my best friend." The lieutenant hung his head. "I guess I treated him like a younger brother sometimes."

"My older brother…Yasha, he was always the strong one." Markov smiled softly. "I hated it. He'd always take care of me…I hated that too. Even when we were grown and he was a soldier."

"Were you close?"

"Very." The Russian nodded. "But we were very different. He chose to fight and make my father proud, I chose to study. But…" Markov shook his head. "He died. More than a year ago in America." He swallowed hard. "I miss him too."

"That why you're here?"

"Partly. I chose to fight for him…but I never really believed in this war." He shrugged, nodding to Price and Lev. "I'm glad that I'm not alone anymore."

Riley nodded, choosing to remain silent and tucking the dog tags quickly back into the breast pocket of his shirt. He brought up his knees, resting his arms on them and then resting his head on his forearms, allowing the rock of the helicopter to gently move his body from side to side. Like Markov, he liked the feeling that he was no longer alone. After all, he'd spent a year travelling, on his own most of the time apart from the few favours he managed to call in from old contacts he'd had with the 141 and prior to that the SAS. He'd spent months with just his own company, locked in his own thoughts, tormented by Soap and Roach only in his sparse dreams. But now, now he had been thrust back into a group of people, a team, feeling almost as if he had indeed been brought back into the world of the living. He hadn't realised just how lonely he was until he had been back amongst people just like him.

Maybe even people who understood him.

The helicopter jerked suddenly, and Riley's back was thrown against the metal casing, bites and bruises from the night before whining with pain. Rather than acknowledge the pain, Ghost smiled at the memory, fortunate that the wool of his mask conveniently hid the action. After all, every sore on his body was now evidence that he was still something, that a little of the old Simon Riley still remained. The scratches and love bites to his skin were more than wounds gained from an evenly matched adversary. They were reminders that he'd let John in, both physically and mentally, that finally they'd managed to get past words and beyond awkward conversations. And there was no denying that it hadn't felt good, better than good even. Fucking fantastic to be more precise…

"My friends…" Nikolai's voice rang out around them, the helicopter beginning to lose altitude. "…70 seconds."

Riley reached for his ACR, pulling it across so that it was sat, steadfast next to him. He nodded to Price, who was also readying himself, barking orders and reminders before their landing. But if Riley was truly honest, his thoughts weren't really in that Pave Low anymore. They were back at base, resting with a Captain who probably wasn't even awake yet.

As he'd thought, this was the last place that Riley wanted to be right then…

Time was practically stood still.

Checking his watch for the fifth time in the last five minutes, Soap shook his head, drumming his fingers idly on the desk that sat in front of him. They should have been approaching Site Hotel Bravo by now and Nikolai hadn't checked in. For the second time, Soap reached forward, checking the radio transmitter before glancing again at his watch. He rolled his eyes. Even he was aware of how impatient he was being.

"The equipment is fine." Artem said loudly, his face riddled with irritation. He stared at Soap for a second longer. "And you should be resting…"

"I'm sat down." Soap replied with an equally indignant look. He and Artem still weren't seeing eye to eye, especially with him incessantly turning down all the pain medication that was offered to him.

"At least is something." Artem rolled his eyes, running his right hand across the short, dark beard that highlighted his jaw line. "But you should still be in bed…"

Bed. As if on cue images of Riley flung themselves across his vision and Soap had to struggle to hold back a shudder, his mind trying to subdue the thoughts with something more innocent. There was no denying that Soap's body now felt like it had been to hell and back, but then again there was no denying that it hadn't been worth it either. The memories were as hazy as they were vivid, but Soap knew all too well that they'd been able to fuck several times, even with his injuries burning in agony along with each movement. He didn't really like to admit it, but it had been a long time since anyone had made him feel like that, and even with the constant pain that had steadily built within him Soap just hadn't been able to tell himself to stop.

Not that he wasn't pissed with Riley. Even in his sated haze, Soap had been aware of them falling asleep together, lying side by side so that only their arms touched. But he'd woken up feeling cheap, since Riley had already got up, dressed and met up with Price before Soap had even been vaguely conscious. He knew that the lieutenant would have done it to avoid more of an argument about Soap being left behind, but in reality Soap had been almost looking forward to that. Deep down he knew it was pointless, but if he was going to be made to stay behind then the least the others could do would be to put up with his endless bitching…

"Delta Six, this is codename November…" The radio suddenly crackled into life, instantly shaking Soap from his thoughts. He jumped, suddenly paying full and constant attention. "Ground team have started their approach. I repeat, ground team have started their approach."

Satisfied, Soap reclined in his chair, knotting his hands together in his lap. It had begun. And now, the only thing worse than waiting for an op to start, would be waiting for that same op to finish…

The sand was swirling around them, making the visibility irritatingly low. In the world that surrounded them there seemed to be nothing else aside from rocks and the occasional scattering of plant life, a large ravine running down steeply behind them. It was deathly quiet, the only sound being the wind as it flicked sand across the terrain, miniscule grains pounding against the cave entrance.

Price took point, risking a flashlight as they began to make their way into the cave system. Lev was to stay at the entrance as a lookout whilst the others progressed onwards, with Markov bringing up the rear, Ghost relaying directions from the blueprints that he held in his hands.

"Place is deserted." Price said quickly, stepping through a rough pile of debris carefully. Once at the other side he indicated for the others to follow, not bothering to turn around.

"Do you think they came back?" Ghost replied.

"Don't know…you'd think if they had they'd have been sure to blow the place sky high." The older Captain shrugged. "Maybe they thought that the C4 and fire mission had done its job. Whatever it was…" He nodded towards what remained of a Shadow Company soldier. "No one's been back here in a long time…didn't even come back for their dead."

Roach. Ghost desperately tried to swallow back thoughts of Gary as they pushed on.

When they reached a dim intersection, Ghost checked and double checked the plans, partly unconvinced that they had managed to find the right room. But the blue prints didn't seem to lie, as they rounded the next corner, they suddenly came face to face with a small room filled with generators and computer towers.

"Markov…keep watch outside. Ghost, with me." Price nodded, entering the room cautiously, his rifle ever ready within his hands. They both proceeded to check through every corner of the room, more out of habit that actually necessity. Only when he was convinced it was safe did Price lower his guard enough to speak. "Do you think its working?"

"Can't be sure…" Ghost shook his head quickly, spotting the terminal attached to the mainframe and heading for it. He typed experimentally at the keys, sighing when there was no sign of life on the screen.

"It looks dead."

"But not broken…" Riley was scratching at his head, glancing around quickly. "It doesn't look damaged, right?"

"True…"

"So we need power." Ghost straightened up quickly, glancing across to the far end of the room and pointing with his left hand "Fuel generator…far left, if we can reroute power straight to the mainframe…" He knelt down, craning his neck at the terminal to check the mainframe connections. "See if you can get that petrol generator going again…"

It was the waiting that was the worst for Lev Sokolov.

He'd been a soldier, then a mercenary, but all through it he'd know that rogue Nikolai. They were both old veterans now, too proud and too grounded in their military ways to stop fighting, but both feeling as if things would have to end, soon.

He was an impatient man. As a soldier Lev wanted to be amongst all the action, to be right there in the centre of it all. But sentry duty? The endless waiting with a trigger happy finger had always been his least favourite experience. Even being pinned down by seemingly endless machine gun fire was better than this.

Glancing out into the sandy terrain, Lev skimmed quickly for targets, though his brain never expected to see another living soul. It was a stealth op sure, but then again it was pretty damn easy to be stealthy when no one was watching.

Until then. There was a glint across his vision, something flickering in the corner of his eyes to his far right. He turned his head, quickly looking to his right, his heart suddenly thudding hard within his chest. Were they figures? He strained his eyes harder, but the sand storm was making it impossible to focus on the dark shapes that were suddenly a part of his vision. Was his mind so bored that it was inventing targets now? Lev shook his head, rubbing his eyes with the palm of right hand before staring again.

Something wasn't right…

"Got it!" Riley yelled triumphantly, slapping the side of the monitor in celebration. The system was rebooting, the petrol generator humming away at the far end of the room, rocking slightly as it did so.

"It's working?"

"It's switched on…" Riley laughed. "It's gonna take some time for me to patch into the system…even if it's operational." He shrugged. "And even then…I don't exactly know what I'm looking for."

"Just get it done." Price shook his head, sliding down the wall so that he was in a sitting position, his eyes fixed on Riley. He watched him silently for a second before speaking again. "How was Soap this morning?"

"He was ok…" Riley answered, almost on autopilot until he realised the true nature of the question, his movements freezing for a split second as he regained some composure. "Hang on…how did you…?"

"You didn't sleep in your cot last night." Price shrugged idly, a smile twisting across his features. "And I thought it unlikely that you'd be busting your arse in the operation's room all night." He smirked, watching Riley for any change in body language. When he found none, he was slightly disappointed. "He thinks a lot of you, you know. Soap I mean."

"Well…I…" Ghost was stumbling over his words and he knew it, wrong footed as he desperately tried to keep his mind focused on what he was doing. "I don't know about that."

"Isn't it obvious?" Price laughed to himself softly. "Maybe it is…but only to 'old men' like myself." He shook his head quickly. "You didn't see how he was, not after he thought you were dead."

"He felt guilty-"

"There was more to it than that." Price interrupted, his voice strong against Riley's. "Believe me. He might not admit now, hell, knowing Soap he might never admit it at all…but…it's still there."

"You think?"

"I know." The older man rolled his eyes. "I know a damn sight more than people credit me for."

"Obviously." There was an awkward silence, the only sounds the generator and Riley's gloved fingers flickering quickly across the keys of the terminal, before he spoke again, his voice louder this time. "And you don't…well…think it's all a bit…" He tailed off, knowing what he wanted to say but unable to actually say it.

"All a bit odd?" Price took pity on him, finishing his sentence before shaking his head. "No. I've been leading men a long time; you'd be surprised what it takes to surprise me." He laughed. "Though I have to admit…for two special forces men such as yourselves…it is the worst kept secret in history."

They were definitely real people.

Lev lifted his rifle, backing away from the cave mouth quickly. There was a patrol headed his way, and he knew if he spoke into his radio now there was a chance that they'd come running before help did. He swallowed hard, quickly checking every other avenue to make sure that they were at least all coming from the same direction. Fortunately they were, a small mercy right then.

His only choice would be to back further into the cave. He'd be able to radio Markov and warn them, besides; at least he'd have the advantage of more cover in case he was spotted. Slinking backwards silently, he retreated back into the cave.

"I think I'm in…" Ghost said slowly, his eyes fixed intently to the screen. He beckoned over Price, bringing up the file names quickly. "But what the hell are we looking for?"

"Any leads…" Price scanned through the titles, but more than half of them were encrypted gibberish. "Any chance of actually making these look like English, mate?"

"You're kidding me." Riley rolled his eyes. "I can decrypt them sure. But it could take hours…there's no way I can do it here."

"So we take them with us." Price was already reaching into Ghost's backpack for the DSM unit.

"All of it?"

"We can't take any chances." He handed the object to Ghost. "Just like you did with Makarov's data."

"There's considerably more files here…"

"Then get to work." Price shook his head defiantly. "We can't risk leaving valuable intel...-"

Ghost had meant to object, but the sudden pound of gunfire sounding out through the tunnels cut him off, the loud noise angry and unexpected in his ears. He spun round to look at Price, but he had already dashed out of the room to Markov. Ghost meant to follow, but chose not to, deciding to start patching in the DSM instead, his hands typing even more frantically now as their radio crackled into life.

"Price…Come in, Price. One patrol, ten men at least….entering the base from entrance Bravo. Machine guns, possible frag grenades." There was another rattle of gunfire, interrupting Lev mid sentence. "I'm retreating back to your position…"

Above the noise, Ghost could hear Price yelling to Markov to provide covering fire, Lev obviously stepping into their sights. Ghost sighed inwardly, desperately trying to progress faster. After all, if Lev was getting close then so was the patrol…

"Ghost…" Price, said suddenly, appearing in the doorway of the room. "How long do you need?"

"As long as you can give me." Ghost shook his head, swallowing hard when the DSM only read '5% complete'. He glanced to Price over his shoulder, his eyes mournful. "Like I said…there's a lot of fucking files…"

When the radio crackled into life again, Soap instinctively checked his watch. As he did so his heart hammered beneath his ribcage. There was no way that the operation could have finished so soon…

"Delta six…we have the intel but have encountered resistance. Repeat, we have the intel but have encountered resistance. Exfil point alpha will have to be abandoned, repeat, exfil point alpha will have to be abandoned."

Soap sat up instantly, sitting closer to the radio as if that might somehow make the news that little bit better. Not that it worked. As he listened, Price's voice remained calm and collected as always, but the gunshots around him were louder, heavier, clearly showing just how pinned down they truly were. Soap shook his head, swallowing hard and gripping the edges of the desk hard. Now, he remembered what was the worst feeling about being left behind. When things went wrong, there was absolutely nothing you could do.

His head in his hands, Soap tried to think logically and remember that Price and the others were more than capable of taking care of themselves. But it didn't help. His every thought simply led back to Ghost, and how more than anyone else, Soap should have been there instead of him.

Besides, John wasn't so sure that he could take losing him again…

Dun, dun duuuuun. So I at least attempted a bit of drama there. But hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Anyway, if it wasn't already obvious, Soap is now not only all alone on the base feeling crippled, but he's also worried sick…so your reviews would really make him feel better. And with Ghost teaching Price how to properly bake this time, what could go wrong? :)

And on an ever serious note, you don't need me to tell you how awesome you guys are for sticking with me through a whole 12 chapters. But in case you do, you guys are bloody fantastic! :) Thank you.

-x-S-x-