Chapter Text
"Turn if off."
Soap groaned and flipped the switch, letting himself go blind in the dark again.
"You want something?" he heard from Ghost alongside the clatter of a spoon against the side of a bowl.
"A drink."
"Best I can do is coffee."
He sat in the canteen, staring at the file like it was about to flap its pages and bite his fingers off. He heard slipper-muffled steps before the figure of Ghost settled in front of him with the bowl of ice cream. Sadly, coffee was not ready yet, leaving Soap's fingers to fidget nervously on nothing.
He peeked at the hulking shadow whose squinting eyes were still getting used to the light.
"I thought you asked for that fancy tea."
"Mhm," Ghost hummed with the spoon in his mouth.
"Greedy bastard. Is it at least any good?"
"No. It's cheap and awful."
"Good," Soap grinned. His smile faltered though as his teammate's eyes fell on the file.
"How was it?" he asked but all he got in response was a tired groan.
"...Not the lightest read, you know?" chuckled half heartedly while trying to feign a smile anyway, like the forever optimist he was.
Ghost sighed and reached into the front pocket of his hoodie. From there he pulled out a similar file if only a bit more crumpled. "Here." It landed in front of Soap. "Maybe it'll make you feel better," he mumbled and grabbed another spoonful of ice cream.
Dated for months prior, with somewhere he'd never been to, a report of a mission. Alejandro and Ghost, Gaz as transport and backup.
With just one questioning look sent towards him, Soap opened it and got to reading.
Shit, it was bad.
Alejandro was shot in the leg, missed the artery so he'll live but Ghost got stuck at the ground floor of the werehouse they were in. Ale could see him from his spot on the catwalk, safe until someone looked up. Down below the hostiles maneuvered through heaps of cargo, looking for the shadow that seemingly disappeared into thin air.
The shooting just moments prior had hit the emergency fire system and sprinklers were still going crazy, soaking everything and everyone. Each step caused a splash, alerting friend and foe alike of their position.
Definitely not good.
First questions appeared in the minds of both Ale and Ghost when the enemies' radios buzzed with static. Then another ones when they started retreating from the warehouse.
Crap, were they going to bomb it? Unlikely, it was Zero's mission to destroy the contents, they wouldn't make it easy. Still, maybe they stored the more crucial info in a different location.
Ghost looked up to his teammate, hoping for intel but Ale's guess was as good as his. The building's definitely no longer safe. Yet before they even opened comms to whisper without giving away their positions, they heard the hostile squad leave the water and approach the exit.
Alejandro from his position saw it first, a spark. A wire. Electricity.
His face went pale as paper and head snapped back to Ghost so fast he could swear something cracked in his spine.
"CLIMB! NOW!" his voice roared across the device and building alike.
Without any hesitation, Ghost launched himself at the nearest stack of crates right as the wire hit the surface of the water.
Ale watched the body convulsing and writhing in the electric hell below, his throat dry like sandpaper. He recognized the ways it curled, the way the cloth seemed to grow tighter as its mass expanded.
No screaming. Only the cackle of electricity. The enemy was laughing.
Crack of bones. Flailing limbs hitting the water. The putrid stench of roasted flesh. The sprinklers stopped as well, just as the enemy pulled the wires out of the water. Maybe that was the plan all along.
Once it was safe, they cautiously entered the water in rubber boots, brimming with victory as they approached the body. A kick. No reaction.
Live, cabrón.
One of them, in an attempt of mockery, tried to grab Ghost by the back of its neck and raise him up like a trophy.
What he did not expect was for his fingers to sink into the flesh like melted butter, skin parting, the spine coming clean out of the confinement of the tissue. He immediately dropped it with a high pitched scream.
Alejandro was certain his heart stopped beating.
Thick red started seeping out of the torn skin, causing mesmerizing swirls in the water. The body stopped thrashing, it only twitched, once, twice. The enemy squad theorized disease, they took a couple steps back as the rattling of coughs echoed around while Ghost's body tried its best not to drown on top of being fried alive.
Still alive. Smart. He must've used the syringe even before they stepped out of the water.
Past all the adrenaline and fear, a sick sense of excitement started boiling in Alejandro. Curiosity as well, to see the beast that hid under Ghost's skin. He even forgot what his bet had been.
An arm shot out of the water, scrambling for balance as he tried and tried to push his body up despite the numbed pain of quickly replaced tissue. Through the frantic splashes of enemies trying to get as far away as possible from this freakish display, Ale heard a rattled groan, muffled as if through many layers. Only then did he notice a bulging growth on the head, one that was rapidly gaining in size as it tore through the fabric of the mask.
The first gasp of a newborn, massive jaws opened to the world and Alejandro was hypnotized by them, the way it struggled out of skin and red like a hatchling, he couldn't even pay any mind to the enemy who at long last scrambled out of the werehouse in panic. The more the flesh grew, the more cracking of equipment and bone he heard as they broke and set to find the way they belonged. The exposed spine itself joined the thrashing of limbs like a snake.
With a final grasp on the side of a crate, one that creaked heavily under the newfound weight of fresh muscle, the dead man heaved its body up, momentarily sliding in the water.
Its black skin rippled with another breath, this one more confident, lungs no longer shredded. It raised its long head, baring teeth to the world, defying its rules of life and death. Shards of bone were embedded in its side, a front of a skull, remains of the old face. And the darkness looked up, at the catwalk, at the only person there.
Fury was shackled in this beast. And it wanted out.
His leg screamed as Alejandro stumbled out of the building, claws gripping the metal railing right behind him. Adrenaline pushed him forward, down a flimsy set of stairs and behind a truck before raw strength itself tumbled through the window, glass shards raining from the sky.
Nothing like the elusive phantom.
The Vaquero was in plain sight, he could see the enemies and they could see him but like hell they would care about a single hurt soldier while something akin to a bear-dinosaur charges at them, still covered in its own blood and scraps of old muscle. Moonlight glistened off its skin as screams tore through the night sky, answered by nothing and no one, cut short alongside a crunch, the skull crushed by the massive jaws. Gunshots rang throughout the complex as logic and reason were tossed aside, only one thing on everyone's mind, kill it, kill it!
The lead hurt it, it bled, giving them the slightest glimmer of hope right before smashing it to pieces. Its aggression only grew alongside its newfound hunger.
One hell of a mother fucker Zero would have on their side.
But for now Alejandro had no other choice but to hide and simply survive the initial rage. They never knew how to feel during the first time, didn't remember much either. Just pain and confusion. A bold assumption, true, but Ale could imagine Ghost was somewhat scared too.
That's why the monster was wreaking havoc, gnashing and tearing at everyone and everything around.
"Gaz, get the tranquilizer ready, we might need it," he huffed into the comms amidst the cacophony of carnage. Didn't even hear the response properly.
Everything fell silent.
Not a shot, no crack of equipment or ribcage. Just labored breaths of the beast.
Alejandro dared take a peek from behind the truck and saw it standing in the middle of the field, still alert and ready in case anyone happened to threaten it, steam rising from its heated sides as they rose with each breath. He finally got to see it in full disgusting glory.
Theoretically bipedal yet it hunched over so far forward it could pretty much touch the ground with its long talons. The front limbs were thin and long, contrasting with the thick hunches that allowed it the sudden bursts of speed. To balance the body it had grown a malformed tail, just a spine with some uncovered muscle, similar to the smaller, human spine that was growing out of its neck, at the end of which its ugly head still moved up and down with each gulp of air. A large maw took the most of it but what made Alejandro shudder, was the second face on its side, Ghost's actual skull, partially uncovered as it was fused with the giant monstrous head.
Its legs were shaking slightly from the amount of exhaustion and it almost made him think tranquilizers weren't necessary, well, up until it moved to look his way.
Right at him.
Within a blink it was back on the move, corpses squelching and cracking beneath its feet as it closed the distance between them and crashed into the track, giving Ale mere shards of a second to avoid being flattened by the vehicle.
"HERMANO!
GHOST!"
His voice boomed across the area. Where the fuck was Gaz?!
Talons swiping at him, they caught on his chest and slammed him on the ground, ridding his lungs of air, one he couldn't even replace with the deformed hand now resting on him. The pressure on his ribs was long past any form of comfort as they threatened to crack any second now.
"Ghhh….st.." he wheezed, struggling to keep the weight from completely crushing him. The monster's growl died in its throat. Colorful dots were dancing in his vision, ready to steal it.
"Sigh–"
The pressure disappeared, sending him into a coughing fit. Hijo de puta, that was close, his eyes were watering from the relief, to be able to taste the air once more despite the waves of agony it caused.
The monster was staring at him, two cold blue eyes in the darkness.
As well as two smaller, brown ones, in the sockets of the skull.
It didn't move an inch.
Alejandro took another breath.
"What do they feed you-" he tried to get up but fell back on his back, all muscles in his body denying cooperation after that hell he's put them through.
It growled, a low rumble coming from the depths of its throat.
"¿Te sientes mejor?"
It growled again.
"Excelente."
It took a couple steps back before its legs gave up as well and its weight fell on the sand.
"Claro, toma una siesta."
Even if this looked nothing like a "nap". More like the beast was about to pass out from overexertion. Puffs of hot air from its flat nostrils picked up grains of sand to carry them closer to the Vaquero.
"--a–gas, you copy? Vargas?" His comms cracked to life once more and he could see the twitch in the muscle on the monster's side but with the adrenaline out of its system it couldn't move. Not attack nor flee.
"Still here, Gaz," Alejandro huffed into the mic, trying to at least sit up. Very painful success.
"We lost connection for a while, what's your status?"
"Fine, just a few broken ribs, now vamos, we need exfil," he looked over to the side but Ghost seemed to be out cold.
"Better land a bit further, get the doc too."
The rest was technicalities. They destroyed the contents of the building and received treatment. Ghost had to be tied down before administering any oxygen or it'd probably turn its help into a corpse as mangled as the other ones.
Still, Ale stayed beside it and patted its side throughout the process, making at least an attempt to calm it down throughout this terrifying part because hell, he had been scared shitless himself back during the first time. Strapped to a table, with no recollection of who the people around him were or what they intended to do with him? The helplessness of that moment will cling to him forever, even through the barrier of memory.
The next time Ghost woke up again, he was on chemicals and halfway back to normal while Alejandro's ribs were almost fully healed.
Soap needed a minute.
To process, to think.
To find words.
While he was reading, a mug of coffee with milk was settled by him and now that he finished and noticed it, he grabbed the thing and took a swing.
Ghost was just sitting there, stirring bits of melted ice cream into mush without thought.
There was comfort in the discomfort. The sense of belonging. Soap wasn't alone. All around him, every person on his team was similar, in a way. And not just because they were soldiers or shared experiences. Now it was something more.
He opened his mouth. Words escaped him. He closed it.
The file was pushed back towards Ghost who silently slid it to the side.
Only the ticking clock of the wall echoed across the room.
Finally, Johnny looked back up at his lieutenant. Into his eyes, the same ones that always pretended to be uncaring. And nodded.
Then opened the other file.