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.

Also! This chapter is rated M for explicit (ish) scenes. You have been warned.

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. Technically I do own Lev, Artem and Markov, but you know, I'm not going to get too hung up on them.

Note from Sassy: So after what feels like forever, I finally have more NSD for you! I am so sorry it's taken this long for me to write, but like I said, I've barely been online this week. Anyway, as always I need to have my usual squee at the amazing reviewers who make writing this series so much fun. Thank you guys!

VerityA: Well, I am honoured by that, seriously sweetie. :) Action is my least favourite as you might have gathered. And I know about Markov…I can't change his name now, but it catches me out…lots. Thanks for the concrit too! Serves me right for writing when tired. :P

xGhostxStealth: Aww I've missed you! But thank you for reviewing! *hands tissues* I am so pleased that you enjoyed the emotions though, and of course, I am eager to know what you think about what's coming next. :)

Yunalein: *hands out tissues* I'm sorry I made you cry. I get a bit carried away with Roach, but I think it's only natural for Ghost to miss him. And I'm so glad I made your day! I hope this chapter makes your day too. :)

GubbleBum96: *is joining with all this hugging* I hope you enjoy the bits of "comfort" in this chapter. :P And in fairness, all my characters appear to be lost within the depths of despair at the moment, so its understandable lol. Thanks so much for your review. :D

xStealthxSniperx: Hey don't worry, I'm just glad of the reviews whenever I get them :). I'm glad you liked the mentions of Roach and the DSM in chapter 12. And in terms of Shadow Company, well what can I say, they just get in the way. :P Thanks so much for your review.

Reeserella: *hugs* I'm sorry! But thank you so much, I shall take that as a very lovely compliment. Ghost will gladly hug you though, never fear. :)

duvalia: Again, I think my messages to you convey the squeeing that occurs due to your reviews. :D I'm glad you liked Soap's "mask" and his "breaking". The two were pretty damn challenging for me to write, so I am very honoured. :)

God-Damned-Dog: I am so very flattered that you were involved with the story, and especially my OCs, since of course they haven't done as much to have your allegiance. I tried hard to make Lev's death seem real, but I never thought that it would be as effecting as it seems to have been. On the note of changing my story, I always intended for Lev to be OC who died, but your comment did make me think about Markov more, which made me realise that I could use his POV in the story to help it flow, if that makes any sense. I've grown quite attached to my OCs though, and I'm glad that you think they have personalities outside of my own imagination. I think this chapter explores a little more of them. This review completely and utterly made me smile though, so thank you so so much. It did really inspire me to get writing chapter 14 as soon as I could. :)

And now, let's cut to the chase that is chapter 14!

When the Pave Low finally landed, Soap didn't know what to feel.

Much to Artem's displeasure, he'd insisted that he'd be there when it arrived, even when each and every step felt as if it was wrenching his body in two. It was the furthest he had had to walk so far, his strides as quick as he could manage, his fists clenched in an attempt to avoid cradling his side. He'd blotted out the medic's calls for him to rest as usual, in reality the muffled sounds barely even penetrating his ears. After all, he needed to know the truth, good or bad, as soon as possible. The questions that had plagued him over the past few hours had been too heavy in his head, too unbearable, eating away at everything else. And so John Mactavish didn't give a damn if he reopened every bullet wound in his body in the process of finding out the truth.

When he saw a body, cloaked in a grey plastic sheet being carefully and respectfully unloaded from the helicopter by Nikolai and Markov, Soap felt his heart stammer in his chest. He was so wrong footed by the sight that even the muscle itself seemed to pause for a moment before beating again, a regular and constant drum within his chest. He watched as Artem dashed forwards towards them, foreign words suddenly becoming a loud presence within the dustbowl air around them. Whilst the rest of the base focused its attention on the body, Soap tore his eyes away, back to the Pave Low, watching as Price quickly clambered down, heading straight for the base, almost blanking out everyone and everything around him. The way he avoided Soap's gaze made his head spin, and a heavy nauseous feeling began to rise in his gut, climbing his throat. Why couldn't Price look at him? Soap swallowed hard, hanging his head. There could really only be one solution. Suddenly he wanted that intolerable feeling of not knowing back more than anything else…

When he dared look upwards, the others were carrying the body back into the base, a few men hanging around to take care of the Pave Low. Soap took in a deep breath, biting his lip and preparing to follow. His mind was barely coherent, his thoughts hardly able to string themselves together through shock, but he was aware enough of his surroundings to know that he ought to do something to at least help.

Even if he wasn't sure how much help he would actually be.

"We got the intel." The voice that suddenly spoke out sent cold shivers tingling down his spine. Slowly Soap turned round, his mind now completely and utterly blank but for one word. Ghost. He blinked hard at the figure now walking towards him from the Pave Low, his clothes dust riddled, eyes hidden behind the vale of his mask and glasses. Riley stepped forward, pausing as he stared at Soap inquisitively, almost instantly picking up on the confusion that must have been in the Captain's eyes. "Did you know him?"

"…Who?"

"Lev Sokolov." Riley shook his head softly, a frustrated tone underlying in his words. "We were too damn complacent."

"Lev?...I…I thought…" He wanted to smile with pure relief, but Soap couldn't bring himself to do so, his brain suddenly caught within a horrific conclusion. He'd spent the past hours so focused on Riley, willing him to be alive, that it had never even occurred to him that for that to happen another man would have had to die in his place. Swallowing hard, Soap fought hard to reign in his thoughts, his brain slowly being able to process once again. "We didn't know who the casualty was."

"He was Nikolai's friend." Ghost nodded gently. "Price didn't want to tell him over a radio distress call." The lieutenant looked at Soap closely, tilting his head and doing the one thing Soap hated more than anything else; trying to analyse him. "You…you didn't think-"

"I didn't know." Mactavish was quick to interrupt. "It could have been anyone…"

"And maybe it should have been me…" Riley shrugged. "I was the one they were protecting after all…I didn't even fire a shot."

"You did your job."

"I know…and they did theirs." Ghost sighed, taking off his sunglasses, his icy blue eyes suddenly free to almost glare in Soap's direction. "But when has any of that stuff helped?"

"Riley…" He wanted to do so much more, but Soap could only bring himself to reach out and squeeze Ghost's right shoulder, trying as hard as he could to convey as much relief into the action as possible. "You're not helping yourself."

"I know." The lieutenant dropped his gaze to the floor, but he leant into the action as much as he could. "I guess it's just been a long morning…" He forced a weak laugh, hoping that the lighter tone might reach Soap even through the wool of his mask.

"You need a drink…" Soap smiled, nodding quickly as he changed his grip on Riley's shoulder, turning it into a gentle push against his back, guiding him towards the base. "…And you need a shower."

"I need to start work on the DSM…"

"Not today." Mactavish smiled again, although this time it was solemn, accompanied by a deliberate shake of his head. "I don't think anyone is going to work today."

It had taken a whole 20 minutes of hot water cascading down his back and a good half tumbler full of whisky to make Riley feel that little bit more human again.

Stepping out of the shower, he reached for a nearby towel, drawing it up around his body before he could accidentally catch sight of his reflection. His senses were dulled by the alcohol still soothing his nerves, but he knew that thoughts of his physical scarring soon lead to thoughts of his emotional scars, and those were the ones that he desperately needed to forget. Soon.

"I poured you another." Soap smiled to him as Ghost padded back into his room, now fully dried and dressed in a pair of the Captain's jeans and one of his khaki shirts. He watched Riley carefully for a moment from his position on the edge of the bed, before pointing to the tumbler of amber liquid on the table closest to Ghost. "It'll help…" The Captain added as an afterthought.

"Thanks."

"Clothes fit you better too." Soap added with a smirk as he watched Ghost take a quick gulp of the whisky, half of it disappearing in seconds. Riley barely even reacted, sniffing hard as the liquid fire ignited his senses, before leaning back against the far wall and closing his eyes. "Oi…watch it, that's good stuff." He was trying too hard and they both knew it, but Soap was smiling and moving across the short distance to Ghost, refilling his glass. But this time he didn't retreat away, instead choosing to stand in front of Riley, watching him almost expectantly. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"We both know that's a lie, Simon." Ghost didn't want to meet the other man's gaze, and so he was wrong footed when there was a sudden pressure on the back of his still damp neck, a strong hand gripping ever so gently. It wasn't a show of power or dominance, but of support, fingers knowingly massaging the pressure point that lay in the centre of the patch of skin. He could try to fight it all he wanted, but Riley simply couldn't deny the slackening of his shoulders as they began to relax.

When that same hand began to push him forwards, Ghost immediately stiffened up, his muscles confused by the obscure action. Soap's other hand skimmed around to encircle his waist before resting on the small of his back, but Riley remained stock still, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. This new form of physical contact wasn't one he was in control of, and at first Ghost didn't trust it, not daring to soften in John's embrace for fearing of acting like "the woman" in the relationship. After all, he wasn't one for crying on shoulders. Or crying at all for that matter.

That was until there was a plucking of teeth at the flesh on the left side of his neck, a calculated move that left the skin sensitive and tingling. Instantly kisses were plied to the same area, accompanied by sucks and nips, each movement deliberately teasing and sensitising the patch of skin further. Riley couldn't stop himself now, the mix of arousing kisses mingling with the whisky in his bloodstream and forcing reluctant gasps from his lips. His fingers raked across Mactavish's shoulders, digging in through the fabric as Riley tilted up his head, exposing more of his neck so that John could just keep doing that…

"I'm sorry." When the kisses and bites reached his ear, Soap's voice was suddenly there, penetrating Riley's skull and snapping him out of his haze. He stayed silent, hoping that that was the end of it, but the Captain continued, his breath warm against his left ear. "…about Lev."

"I know…"

"But I thought it was you."

"I know…" Ghost groaned, tilting his head away from Soap when he leant in to kiss his neck again. He stared at him for a second, his eyes almost angry. "Do we have to do this now?"

"What?"

"I don't want to talk…" Ghost shook his head. "I don't even want to fucking think."

"…You still think it should have been you, don't you?" Soap pulled away himself, letting go of Riley completely, although their bodies were still painfully close. "…That's what this is, right?"

"I never said that…"

"You did earlier."

"I was hardly thinking straight." Riley shrugged, rolling his eyes. "I was guilty…fuck, I still am."

"I know-"

"You don't know!" Ghost laughed darkly. "You weren't there with Lev…you weren't even there with Roach…"

"And so that means I know nothing about losing men?" Soap snarled, angling his face closer so his eyes looked straight into Riley's. He laughed sarcastically. "Give me a break…"

"It's different."

"It isn't." Soap shook his head. "I cared about Roach…"

"He was my best friend!"

"And what do you think you fucking are to me? Eh, Riley?" Soap's words cut through the air, silencing Ghost immediately. He took a step backwards, seeding his ground out of shock at the other man's outburst more than anything else. The feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach was simply rising anew, heavier within his system, and right then Ghost couldn't stand it, suddenly becoming aware of what he was doing, of what he always seemed to do with Soap these days. Riley licked his lips, still completely at a loss for words, the frustration in Soap's glare seemingly growing in intensity with each passing second.

"…I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I need…" Reaching for his mask and pulling it on quickly, Riley stepped past Soap and moved towards the door. "…I need to get out of here."

"Where the hell are you going to go?" Mactavish made no move to stop him.

"I don't know."

"Riley…"

"I'll come back…" The lieutenant shook his head, opening the door. "Just give me time Please."

He was numb.

He'd spent the past hour in there. He hadn't meant to, but somehow being amongst Lev's few possessions made him feel that little bit better. He'd left Lev's body in the hands of Nikolai and Artem, suddenly unable to be around it anymore. After all the shock had begun to leave him by then, and the sight of the lifeless body on the examination table made him sick to his stomach, his body dry retching in response. So he'd dashed from the room quickly and fled to Lev's room. He hadn't wanted to stay there, only lock the door for his dead friend, but once inside, Markov finally felt some form of peace. The bloodstains on his clothes told him that Lev was no longer alive, but at least within the bubble of his room, his friend was in some ways still there. It was an almost comforting feeling.

He'd started slowly at first, beginning to tidy away a few possessions of no consequence, like screwed up pieces of paper of used tissues. But it had quickly grown into something more. Markov suddenly wanted to honour his friend, to do the right thing for what little possessions he had owned. If he didn't act now then the others would come to clear the room later, and no doubt some of Lev's things would get separated and lost. The thought alone had horrified Markov, and he had begun to pack away every item in earnest, gently folding it all away with great care and respect, taking his time over every single little detail. After all, he was clearing away what little remained of Lev Sokolov's life.

He didn't hear the other figure enter the room for sometime, their movements precise and effortlessly silent. He'd spun round and seen them suddenly, a skull towering above him, silent and frozen. Markov had jumped in his skin, his heart jolting almost painfully in his chest.

"How long have you been here?"

"A couple of minutes." Riley shook his head, glancing around. "Nikolai said you'd probably be here…"

"I had to do something." He quickly shook his head, placing the last item, a picture of Lev, a grinning blonde woman and two young girls, on top of the cardboard box that now held all of his worldly possessions. He smiled softly, regarding the proud grin on Lev's features and pointing the picture out to Ghost. "Did you know he had a family?"

"No…"

"A wife…two little girls." Markov sighed. "He'd never tell me their names…but he would at least show me this."

"Do we…need to tell them?"

"No." The Russian turned round to face Riley. "They already think he's dead. He wanted to keep them safe…" Markov shrugged gently, blinking back stale tears. "I think he came here knowing that he wouldn't survive this war." He bit his lip, sitting down on Lev's bed and resting his head in his hands. "He was the one who brought me here. He said that he couldn't guarantee that the war I'd be fighting would be any easier, but at least I would know the truth."

"I'm sure he'd be proud of you."

"No…" Markov laughed softly, shaking his head as he looked up at Ghost. "He knew I wasn't a soldier. I think too much, I empathise too much. I regret too much." He rolled his eyes. "But Lev was the only one who understood all that..."

"No one's forcing you to stay."

"There's nothing out there for me anymore. My family think I'm a deserter, my brother is dead..." Markov sniffed hard, wiping at his eyes resolutely. "I'm a part of this now."

"If it helps…" Riley shrugged, sitting down beside him slowly. "So am I. I could leave too…but I won't."

"Because of John?"

"Partly…" Ghost paused, worrying his lip as his thoughts lingered on the question further, his answer becoming more truthful. "Yeah...maybe."

"I heard you and Price talking…before the attack." Markov didn't quite meet Ghost's gaze, his eyes awkward. "He was right."

"About what?"

"John…He cares."

"I know." Ghost shrugged. "But neither of us are very good at dealing with that."

"Who is?" Markov gave him a weak smile. "But that isn't what's important."

"What is?"

"I think you're all he has." Markov nodded quickly, clearly a little uncomfortable. "Here at least."

"I guess…"

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who else do you have?"

"No one…"Ghost shook his head. "My family are long dead…my friends all died in the task force." He laughed darkly. "Is this supposed to be making me feel better? Because it isn't…"

"No." Markov smiled. "It's supposed to make you realise." He stood up slowly, a gentle smile growing across his features as he nodded to Ghost. "I was always a better thinker than I was a soldier."

Ghost found himself still sitting there, long after Markov had left. His strange realisations were swarming through his head, unclear and yet seemingly so damn loud. He was suddenly replaying his argument with Soap, rewinding and listening to what the Captain had said over and over. His thoughts were back at the Task Force base, back at that poker game where he'd first realised that John wasn't the man he was thought he was, back to that kiss before they'd assaulted the safehouse. Memories of the night before flooded his memory, reminders of every kiss, scratch and bite flickering across his mind. And then, Roach was back, stood steadfast in the centre of all his memories, the sergeant now an embodiment of everything wrong in world, everything that was unfair or wasted. The embodiment of betrayal and suffering.

But this time, Roach wasn't going to get in the way. And as Riley stood up, he knew exactly what he needed. More than anything, Simon Riley just needed to lose himself…

He'd practically ran back through the corridors to Soap's room, not even bothering to knock at the door. He'd barely been gone an hour and Mactavish seemed to be in a similar state to when he had left him, the Captain leaning against the far wall, glugging whisky from the bottle. Silently, Ghost closed the door, snapping it locked and testing it to satisfy his paranoia. He kept his eyes on Soap, who was half glaring at him angrily, half gazing at him confused when he shed his mask, tossing it carelessly to the floor. In a swift, deliberate movement he moved his right hand to his collar, quickly pulling at the buttons, freeing the fabric to expose the smooth and scarred skin that made up his neck. As he continued to undo the buttons further down his shirt, Ghost walked forwards, for once not giving a damn about what his "ruined" torso looked like whilst Soap simply watched bemused. But Ghost chose to just give him a deliberate smile in return. There were some things he knew exactly how to get.

He was on Mactavish in seconds, grabbing the collar of his t shirt and ramming him hard against the wall, not caring that his head banged awkwardly against the concrete with a thud. Riley lunged forwards, pulling the Captain's mouth into a fiercely demanding and dominating kiss, their bodies pressed tightly together. After a minute or so he found the Captain's bottom lip, sucking on it gently before biting down, hard enough so that the metallic tang of blood soon permeated into both their mouths.

The reaction from Soap was just as Riley had wanted, similar to a shark that was drawn into a fury of blood lust. The bite had awakened the Captain to the fact that he was being shamelessly dominated, and as a result it brought out his competitive edge, instantly causing him to push back against Ghost in earnest. When the Captain pushed him down to the floor, Ghost was sure that he had expected a fight for power, but Riley gave him no such response, simply letting himself fall backwards heavily. He'd watched as Soap landed on top of him, pulling his head back for a moment to check Riley's features, his scarred eyebrow raised in confusion. Riley merely smiled, watching him eagerly whilst a hand slid down Soap's body, finding his crotch and eliciting the most satisfying of groans from Captain in the process. In response, he leant down, pressing an almost feather like kiss to Riley's lips to show that he understood, before beginning to attack his neck in earnest, dominating every inch of skin in the process. When he moved down to bite and nip at his chest, Riley could already feel fresh marks budding in between the ones he had received the night before, but he didn't care, instead embracing the odd combination of pleasure and pain and arching his back to give Soap better access. When eager hands began to pull at his jeans, Ghost simply chose to close his eyes, rewarding Mactavish with a gruff groan when he bit at the skin just above his hip bone.

With that fleeting kiss, Soap had shown that he understood. There would be no power struggle that night. There'd be no fights for dominance, and no mad battle of wits to secure the position on top. Ghost had simply submitted himself completely to Soap, a feeling that was as alien as it was arousing. After all, with Roach suddenly back haunting his thoughts, Simon Riley needed to lose himself, even if it was just for an hour or so. And doing the one thing that just didn't come naturally to him? Well, that was as far from the dominating, competitive and arrogant Riley as he could physically get.

But even that wasn't the real point. It took a lot for Ghost to submit, and he sure as hell wouldn't do it with just anyone. He was physically unable to give that power freely to anyone whom he didn't trust without question. But if his talk with Markov had taught him anything, hell, if his time with the 141 had taught him anything at all, then it was that he could trust Mactavish, even if it was only for that one night.

After all, he was all he had left. If he couldn't trust in that, then what else was there?

And so my friends, it's taken me a while, I know, but here is chapter 14. A bit of a change in gear to the last one, but I personally needed to recover from all the action writing. :P So what do you think? As you know, Ghost is eager to bake you all cookies, and Soap is more than happy to be the whore for this chapter and give out all the hugs you could want. :)

And on a ever serious note, thank you so so very much for sticking with me this far. You are officially brilliant.

-x-S-x-