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. 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…it's been a while. And a belated Merry Christmas to you all! I'm sorry its taken me this long to get this chapter out, but I figured with it being Christmas everyone would be too busy to read it until a few days after anyway. But enough of that, I shall simply welcome you all back and then start squeeing at my awesome reviewers. :D

xStealthxSniperx: Haha the infantry have complete ownership of the seven P's sadly…I do so wish I was clever enough to come up with them. As for snarky, grumpy Ghost, well, it wouldn't have been the birth of a friendship without him lol. :P Thanks for your review!

VerityA: I love how we miss Roach even when he's not actually been in this fic that much. And bless you! As I probably told you, it was Andy McNab's books that had me all inspired with that chapter, but I'm glad I managed to make it all believable. You are far too lovely dear. :)

Yunalein: Thank you so so much! Your reviews always make me smile, and they are so complimenting. I'm glad my writing managed to cheer you up too! And I know what you mean about Roach…but he is the real tragedy of it all I guess.

SarkastinenNasse: I know your review was for chapter 9, but I hope you read this chapter and see my response! Thank you so much. And I guess, welcome to the pairing. It is, and I say this with no bias, the best pairing out there… :P And thank you for what you said about taking time with the characters, because I believe there is a fine line between developing the characters and dragging it all out too long. So thank you. Your review gave me a huge boost. I'd love to know what you think of these later chapters too, so keep in touch. :D

Reeserella: Ghost truly appreciates your kindness there. :) And I'm glad that you liked the flashbacks too! Thanks as always for your review. :D

And now? Yes…finally, its chapter 16!

The seemingly continual clash of duty against want was something that Simon Riley was beginning to get used to.

If he could have been, he would have been anywhere else. Stuck in the operations room buried beneath embedded files, out on patrol, hell, right then he would have even settled to be back out in the wastes alone again. And yet, although the urge to just fucking bolt was constantly drumming through his system, so too was the knowledge that in reality, he simply couldn't. It was his duty to be there, in some ways, his responsibility.

And yet even with all of that weighing down upon his mind, he still felt as if he was an intruder.

Nikolai, Artem and two other men solemnly lowered the body down into the grave, their movements strangely soft and respectful for such generally heavy handed men. Lev's body had been cleaned and although there were no coffins on the base, it had been carefully wrapped in white cloth, giving it an almost mummified appearance against the sand whipping through the base around them. No one spoke, the rest of the men barely even moving as Nikolai and the others stepped out of the grave, their heads hanging low. It was obvious to Ghost that Lev had been a popular man on the base, and the pangs of guilt in his stomach became sharper with each newly disheartened and grieving glance he met. These men had lost their friend, their brother, and yet he was stood alongside them trying to mourn for a man he barely even knew. And right then, surrounded by Lev's comrades, even that felt disrespectful.

Ghost blinked hard, fighting the urge to simply run when visions of Roach's body lying in Lev's grave flashed evilly across his mind's eye.

For a moment everything was still. There were no tears, only closed eyes and bowed heads. A few of the men muttered different things in Russian, and occasionally the others would nod, including Price and by association, Soap. Nikolai spoke out what appeared to be a joke or anecdote and the others pitied him with a soft laugh in response. No one made any move to cover the body.

It was only when Markov finally stepped forward that some of the men began to turn their backs to leave, his resolve to remain strong immediately obvious and almost uncomfortable to watch. Stale tears were burning in Markov's eyes, making them reddened and bloodshot as if the liquid itself was corrosive, and yet he refused to let them fall, instead stepping forwards and kneeling by the grave. In a slow, deliberate movement, Markov pulled the small photograph of Lev and his family from his pocket, glancing at it mournfully. A saddened, crooked smile cracked across his young features for a split second, until he leant forwards, gently placing the thin sheet of paper onto the dead man's chest. His hand lingered there for a moment as he whispered something barely audible, before standing quickly and nodding to Nikolai.

"It's time…"

"Da…" The older Russian swallowed, and he handed a shovel to Markov, taking one for himself in the process. Stepping forward slowly, he dug the shovel into the pile of fresh earth and sand by the grave, piling a small clump of it onto Lev's chest as gently as physically possible. More of the men began to turn to leave, Price included, whilst Mactavish nudged at Ghost's side.

"Come on, mate…"

But Ghost was transfixed. Instead of turning to leave with the Captains, he stepped forward, a tentative hand reaching for another shovel.

"I'd like to help…"

"You do not have to, my friend." Nikolai shook his head slowly.

"But I want to…" His fist tightened around the handle of the spade. "It's the least I can do…"

"Let him…" Markov laughed suddenly, although the sound was dark and bitter. He straightened up, eyeing Ghost almost defiantly. "Let the soldier try and redeem himself…"

"Markov…"

"No…let me speak." The younger Russian smiled, stepping closer to the pair of them slowly. "Because he should know what he's done…"

"He has done nothing…" Nikolai warned, attempting to move in between them.

"Exactly!" Markov laughed almost triumphantly. "Last night…I realised. We were out there; fighting and where was this…trusy?" He shrugged sarcastically. "Hiding…"

"We needed the DSM." This time Ghost spoke, nudging past Nikolai as he stepped towards Markov, his voice strong.

"You still could have fought. That way we would have known they were all dead…That way, Lev would still be alive."

"I did my job…" Ghost said slowly, almost as if he was saying it to himself rather than to Markov. "If I could change it… then I would. But I. did. My. Job."

"Does that make it easier for you?" Markov smiled sinisterly, stepping forward so that his face was inches from Riley's mask. "When you wash the blood off your hands each night, does saying that make it easier to handle?" The Russian punctuated his words with a hard shove to Riley's chest.

"Markov!" It was as if neither man could hear Price's interjection.

"How many have died whilst you were doing your job? Hmm?" He laughed bitterly, cocking his head as he glared at Ghost. "How many have you forced to make that sacrifice?"

"You don't know what you're saying…" Riley shook his head.

"I doubt Lev was the first for a coward like you…"

"I'm not a coward…"

"Really?" Markov smirked, squaring his shoulders. "Did your friend know that before he died?"

"No…" The warning tone in Ghost's voice was unmistakable. "Don't you fucking mention him."

"Why?" The younger man laughed softly. "Is it too painful?"

"You've got no right…"

"And you've no more right to live where Lev died…" Markov swallowed hard, his eyes dark and angry as he pushed forwards into Ghost's face again. "But I guess that was just an 'accident'…wasn't it?"

"Yes…"

"Then tell me…" Markov paused, eyeing Riley eagerly, almost as if he was relishing the shared anger crackling between them. "Was Roach's death an 'accident' as well? Or did you just abandon him too?"

To say that he had snapped was an understatement. Before Markov could even draw breath, Ghost had aimed a ruthless punch to his jaw, knocking him flying backwards. In mere milliseconds, Riley's world descended into a reddened haze, and he was pushing forwards, letting out an angered scream as he lashed out, landing a heavy kick into Markov's ribs. The body spluttered beneath him, and Ghost kicked out again, this time aiming the kick higher at the other man's shoulders. Riley's brain was such a blur of conflicting thoughts and emotions that he no longer listened to it, not realising that the body lying on the floor wasn't even attempting to fight back as he lashed out again, forcing a well aimed punch into the side of Markov's skull almost on instinct.

He'd grabbed the Russian by the very strands of his blonde hair to pull him to his feet when the force of what felt like a car hit him from behind, knocking him firmly off his already unsteady feet. Disorientated, Ghost was suddenly flat on his back, a bright blue sky contrasting with the dark features of Soap, who was now attempting to restrain him on the floor. But he was too far gone, and Ghost struggled to free himself, landing a firm, bruising punch to Soap's left cheek in the process. The Captain grunted with pain, retaliating with a heavy punch of his own that sent white sparks flickering across Riley's vision instantly.

"Ghost…Ghost!" Eyelashes fluttered across his vision momentarily as Riley tried to regain some orientation, an intense burning thundering at his left temple. He swallowed hard, letting his body go limp and his head drop back against the sand underneath him. Mactavish seemed to notice the change and he loosened his grip on Ghost's shoulders, still watching him cautiously. But Riley was determined to avoid his gaze, instead using the Captain's lapse in strength to throw him off and right himself, forgetting that the action would put Soap in an intense amount of pain in the process. As he stood, Ghost's gaze clashed momentarily with Markov's, who was limping towards the base with the help of Artem. What he saw haunted him. The only emotion he found in Markov's was not contempt, or wrath as it should have been, but simply the same angered confusion that had dwelt there since the very moment of Lev's death…

"You still even in there?" Soap half screamed at him, giving Ghost an incredulous look. When the lieutenant chose not reply, he gave him a harsh shove, his tone sharp and authoritative. "My quarters…now. We're fucking talking about this."

"I don't answer to you."

"Right now, mate…" Soap shook his head, stepping forwards and twisting Riley's arm up behind his back with a force that a man in his state shouldn't have possessed. "You don't have a choice…"

They'd managed to maintain a forced silence the whole time it took them to get to Soap's room. Ghost had instantly torn himself from the Captain's grasp, but he hadn't made any other attempt to argue, allowing himself to be led back into the base. The brief pause had given Riley chance to calm down and for him to become aware of his surroundings a little more, a feeling he didn't necessarily like as it dawned on him what exactly had just happened. Soap however remained silent and impassive, his features completely unreadable until they were shut within the privacy of his quarters.

When he found himself being pushed up against the door, two hands scrunched within the collar of his shirt and his head bouncing off metal, Ghost couldn't say that he was surprised.

"What the fuck was that, Riley?" The anger in Mactavish's eyes was unlike anything Ghost had seen in a while, but he didn't shy away from it, making sure that he glared back equally as fiercely.

"You heard what he said…" The lieutenant muttered, as if that suddenly redeemed him for absolutely everything. "About Roach…"

"He didn't mean any of that."

"He still shouldn't have said it."

"For fucks sake, Simon! He's like a kid who's lost his Dad right now…he's angry, confused and to top it all off he's fucking terrified. You really think he's thinking clearly?" Soap rolled his eyes, pushing Ghost back against the door hard before letting go of his collar, almost in disgust as he stepped backwards. "He needed someone to blame…You were the easiest target."

"And that makes it right then does it?" Riley scoffed, a hand attempting to straighten his collar out of some misplaced sense of self preservation. "Face it, John…if that had been me out there I'd have been out of line…"

"And you weren't?" Mactavish let out a dark laugh. "The way I saw it Markov wasn't the one beating you fucking senseless…"

"I was going to stop…"

"Really? Before or after he was half dead?" Soap rolled his eyes, angered hands running through his hair. "We all fucking lose it, Riley…but that…" He paused, biting his lip. "…That wasn't just one punch."

"I blanked out." Riley leant back against the door, banging his head back against the metal in a desperate attempt to find some clarity. "…You know me, John…"

"Yeah…I do." Mactavish shook his head slowly. "But the Riley I know could stand one hell of a lot more than what Markov just threw at you…" He shrugged, almost defeated. "You were never that quick to anger…"

"I told you I've changed."

"That an excuse?"

"It's a reason."

"Same thing." Hesitating, Soap stepped forwards so that he could look at Ghost in the eye again. There was already a darkening pink bruise forming a crescent underneath his left eye and Riley winced at the memory of the punch he had thrown at his lover's face. "Can I say something?"

"You haven't already?"

"Roach…" The Captain sighed softly. "You've got to let him go."

"I can't."

"And I can't let you have such an obvious weak spot…" Soap shrugged. "Morale is low…people say things they shouldn't. It will happen again. And I can't afford to have you being so…fucking fragile."

"You weren't there…" Riley shook his head dismissively. "You didn't see what Shepherd did. You haven't felt it."

"I know. But we all have shit to deal with, Riley."

"I'm fucking dealing with it…"

"That's the problem…" Soap shook his head. "Your not." He nodded towards Roach's dog tags that were just visible around Ghost's neck. "Don't think I haven't noticed…"

"I can't lose him." There was a pain in Riley's voice that only Soap could detect, but it was as close as he knew the lieutenant would come to breaking in front of anyone. "Markov was right…I did abandon him…I fucking left him, John."

"He was dead, Simon…"

"I could have done something!"

"Like what?" Soap rolled his eyes. "I could have radioed in five minutes earlier and warned you. Saved you both. Don't you think I'm paying for that just as fucking much?" Mactavish sighed, leaning closer to Riley, his good hand steadying his weight against the door by Ghost's face.

"It's not the same…"

"But it's still fucking hard." In an almost terrifying display of affection, Soap closed the distance between them, resting his forehead against Ghost's, the constant pressure suddenly making the sore skin around Riley's right eye sting. "You have to deal with this…you hear me?"

"And if I can't…?"

"Then don't make me choose between you and doing what's right." Soap pulled back, making sure that Riley could see the regret and concern that lingered in his iced blue eyes. "Because you know that I won't be able to choose you."

The constant crackle of the radio was beginning to drive him insane.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Price looked over to Nikolai, who was still sat by the radio, listening intently with his ear practically pressed to the receiver. The air around them was thick with cigarette and cigar smoke, a heady cloud floating above the oak operations table. By his side sat a bottle of brandy, something that had started the day full, and was by now more than half empty.

Tipping the rest of the brandy from his glass into his mouth, Price turned his attentions back to the papers that lay in front of him, absent mindedly reaching for another cigarette in the process. Inserting the fragile paper object into his mouth he lit it effortlessly, his eyes continually fixed to the documents as he did so. They were print outs of the intel that Ghost had already decrypted, and although most of it was useless information, at least reading through it all soothed his restless mind and made him feel as if he was actually doing something.

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, Price smirked as his eyes found a particular directive hidden within all the intel. Directive one-one-six bravo. The order Shepherd had executed when he and Soap had breached the base. According to the directive plans, the entire base should have been pumped so full of C4 that it was erased, quite literally, from the face of the earth. It at least amused him to think that two men with a grudge had managed to prevent that from happening…

"Price…" There was another electronic gurgle as Nikolai retuned the radio, his free hand waving for Price to come closer. "Listen…frequency 7."

Frequency 7. Many of the men on the base were ex-Ultranationalists, although none of them were extremists like Makarov or his followers, many just drawn into the political ideal when Russia elected its Ultranationalist president some years ago. Either way, due to the nature of their lives, many had severed all ties to the rest of the world, and as a result the Russian authorities regarded them as MIA and most likely dead. The fact that they no longer posed a "threat" meant that they were able to provide Nikolai and the others with some valuable sources of intel, generally in form of radio frequencies that they once used to communicate before their defection. Frequency 7, as it had come to be known, was one such source. So far it had proved fairly useless; a minor frequency used by a handful of the Ultranationalist forces.

More to humour his long time friend than anything else, Price moved forward, leaning over Nikolai's shoulder to listen the burbles of Russian audible above the white noise of the receiver. There was definitely something being said, but the sounds were too soft for him to make out more than the occasional word.

"Can you make this thing any louder?"

"What do you think I spend time doing?" Nikolai rolled his eyes. "This is as loud as it will go."

"Great…" Leaning in that bit closer, Price tried to concentrate harder, but it made no difference. "Sorry, mate. It's too quiet."

"They're a patrol…in the Ural Mountains. Near the border with Kazakhstan…" Nikolai leant in closer, his face contorted as he tried to make out the faint words. "They are reporting an increase of soldiers in the area…Men who shouldn't be there…"

"And?"

"It could be a lead…" The Russian nodded softly. "Makarov's men could have access to military uniforms…"

"Or it could be a typical military comms breakdown." Price laughed darkly. "Hardly incriminating, mate."

"It sounds strange…" Nikolai shook his head quickly. "Too large patrols in one desolate area…with a war waging?" He laughed softly. "If its real then its blind stupidity…"

"Possibly. Makarov is intelligent enough to know that sticking close to the Russian's keeps the American's off his back." The Captain shrugged. "He's a cunning bastard."

"What do you suggest?"

"I trust you, Nikolai." Price smiled quickly, straightening up and resting a friendly hand on the man's shoulder. "Keep listening, record anything of interest…if you think it's something, then you could be right."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then we've got a place to cross off the list." Standing up Price laughed cynically. "We're trying to find a needle in a global haystack…right now I'd happily take anything we can get our hands on."

"Understood." Nikolai smiled back, watching curiously as the Captain moved towards the operations room door. "Where are you going?"

"To find Ghost. This bit of information might make sifting through Shepherd's files easier…" He shrugged. "We find something in there, and we might need that flight to Kazakhstan, mate."

And so we end chapter 16 on the cusp of a discovery and with poor old Ghost having to make a tricky decision. Eitherway, morale is low, and everyone's getting that 'after Christmas' feeling, so what could be better than cheering them up with a review? Ghost will be offering out his usual New Year hugs and kisses naturally.

And on an ever serious note, thank you for reading this far. You support/feedback makes my job so much easier. :)

-x-S-x-