A/N: Sorry I left you guys in a weird spot in the last chapter... I didn't really know what to do. But now I have a plan! Sort of... ish...

Roach sat in a dark room, chained to the wall. He had woken up a few hours ago, but no one had come. His arm hurt really bad, no one had bothered to fix it. There was also a large, deep cut on his arm where he assumed they had taken out his tracker. That didn't feel good either. At all. The room had two tables on either side of it that held every kind of torture weapon you could possibly imagine. He shivered just looking at them. Silently, he wondered who these people were and what they wanted. He had been captured only once before but it wasn't a very nice experience.

His stomach grumbled and he realized he was hungry- then he thought about the fact that if they did give him food it probably had poison or some other bad thing in it, so it probably wasn't a good idea to eat anything. He sighed and wondered if his teammates would ever find him. That brought another question to mind- where was he? On the way here he was unconscious, so he wasn't really sure where he was. Well that's not good... He jumped as the door suddenly burst open to admit someone who looked familiar.

"Hello, Gary."

He gasped and tried to back away, only to remember he was chained to the wall. Now he knew who this person was.

"Leave me alone!" He shouted as his father strolled over to him.

His father's name was John Sanderson. He was a tall, lean man with the same brown eyes and dark brown hair as Roach. John leaned down and looked at his face, he hadn't seen him for nearly 5 years.

"Long time no see. So, what have you been up to lately?" He asked, standing up straight.

Roach remained silent and refused to meet his eyes.

"You don't feel like talking?" His eyes drifted to Roach's broken arm and he smiled.

"What happened to your arm? Did somebody break it?" He mocked, reaching down and touching his arm.

Roach screamed and kicked at him, but he was weak and slow so John simply moved out of the way. He could feel where the bone was broken. He let go of his arm and started pacing. He wondered why his men had such an easy time retrieving him and getting him here. He was a highly trained soldier who was part of a task force of the world's best handpicked soldiers. His men had told him that they had split up and that made the job alot easier. Either way, it didn't matter how they got him here, what mattered is that he had him right where he wanted him.

"Tell me about the task force you're in. Where's your base?" He asked, turning to look at him.

Roach's mind was somewhere else completely. He was really scared now, his father was a real asshole with a really awful temper. He hated his father and would love to kick his ass, but his fear of him overruled his hatred for him and therefore, he was too scared to face him.

"ANSWER ME WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION!" John yelled.

He quickly went to one of the tables and picked up a knife. He walked back over to him and dragged the tip of the knife down his face, not hard enough to draw blood though.

"It's okay, you can tell me. I'll tell you a secret... Your friends are dead. You have nothing left to be loyal to anymore. So tell me about them."

"No, you're lying."

"Now why would I lie to you, Gary? I never lie." He said, pulling a picture out of his pocket and holding it up for him to see.

It was all of his teammates, laying dead in a ditch. They were all covered in blood, some with knives stuck in them, others with bullet wounds. Price, MacTavish, Archer, Toad, Ghost. They were all dead. No... no it couldn't be true! He frantically strained to remember something- anything from before he was captured. He could remember everything up until he entered the fourth room in the hallway- then everything went black.

"They really are dead, Gary, and just to prove it to you, I'm going to leave this here with you so you can look at it all day. It's a gift." He set the picture down right in front of him, where it was always in his line of sight no matter which way he looked.

"They are not dead!" He yelled, trying to convince himself more than anyone.

"YES THEY ARE! And guess what? It's all YOUR fault!" John shouted with a malicious smile.

"What...?"

"Yes, Gary, it's all your fault. You were supposed to be there for them, but you weren't and now they're dead because of YOU!"

He sat there, speechless. What had he done? Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of his teammates, his friends, dead. All because of him. All because he had made a mistake.

"...No...No NO! I don't believe you!"

"Well you should. Why don't you believe me? There's your proof," he said, gesturing to the picture, "what more do you need to know that you failed?"

He felt anger. A blinding stab of anger jolted through him. Why should he believe this dick anyways? He has always been a liar, why would he stop now? Because he's finally won. He beat you, Roach. A voice in his head said. No. It can't be true. He refused to believe it.

"There's no point in keeping it from me. They. Are. Dead. Do you understand? GONE FOREVER! SO TELL ME ABOUT THE TASK FORCE!"

"NO! I will NEVER tell you ANYTHING, you lying little shit!" Roach yelled. He was pissed.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"I CALLED YOU A LYING LITTLE SHIT!"

Before he knew what he was going to do, John cut him across the face. He yelped, not expecting him to be able to move that fast. He felt warm blood run down his face and drip onto the floor. The cut was deep and it stung and burned. His anger disappeared and was replaced with fear, as it had been so many times before. Now he had done it. When John got angry no one on earth would want to be within twenty feet of him. Then he did the last thing he expected him to do. He left. A few moments later, he came back with two other men and a metal chair. This didn't look good...

4 Days Later...

It had been a long four days. They were back at their base, which was in Indiana. Everyone was so busy trying to find Roach and he was fairly sure no one had gotten any sleep. They had informed all units of Roach's disappearance so they could keep an eye out for any possible leads. They had found none. Everyone on the team felt terrible for not believing him. He told them he had a bad feeling about that mission, but no one had listened to him and he got captured. They all felt that it was their fault, but Ghost probably felt the most guilt. He never should've split up with him. If he hadn't, Roach would probably still be with them.

He sighed as he looked over the map for probably the hundredth time. He was the last person still up. Captain Price had ordered everyone to get some rest, but he wasn't tired. Everyone else was already asleep. The nearest known enemy base (from where Roach was taken) was in Kentucky. The Ghosts' base was in Pennsylvania, they were also keeping an eye on things for them. They had already been on a few recon missions around the area, but had found nothing. This was very frustrating. He almost jumped out of his chair when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me. You should get some rest, I'll take over."

"No, it's okay."

"Ghost, you look like a fucking zombie. Go get some rest." He ordered.

They glared at each other for a few minutes, then Soap realized something.

"Ghost, it wasn't your fault." He sighed.

His glance shifted to the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

"Yes it was."

"How?"

"He said he had a bad feeling and I told him it was just nerves."

"That's because it probably was."

"Come on, Soap. We all know he's not usually nervous before ops."

Soap was quiet. There wasn't anything else to say.

"I never should have split up with him."

Soap sighed. They could have this conversation later, but right now he needed to pull it together. Sitting around feeling guilty wasn't going to help them get Roach back.

"Go get some rest. Now." He said sternly.

"Fine."

Ghost got up and left the room, heading for the barracks. Soap sat down and looked over what they had, which was basically a big stinking pile of nothing. Wait... They hadn't checked West Virginia yet, had they? He went to the desk in the corner of the room and pulled a map out of one of the drawers. They had marked all the places they had already checked. He was right. They hadn't checked West Virginia. "Looks like we're going on another recon mission tomorrow," he thought.

A/N: Hey! I know I skipped four days... but I didn't really know what to do with them...so I skipped them! But hey, you people need to REVIEW. SERIOUSLY! :D