John 'Soap' MacTavish

“Told ya to check the damn thing before we left,” Ghost snapped Soap’s way. The Scot only rolled his eyes and huffed, frustration tightening the man’s features. The cargo truck you all had been traveling in, decided to take a shit on you guys halfway through your trip.

Stood at the front of the truck was Ghost, angrily slamming the hood shut. Soap was beside him, arms folded over his chest. Gaz and you were a bit off to the side, away from the road, watching Price pace around, his phone pressed to the side of his face.

“Right, thank you…” Price sighed, stopping his pacing to hang up the phone. He approached his team, hands resting on his hips. “Laswell is sending out a crew to come save our sorry asses. But it’ll be a while, so we should find somewhere to… take shelter for the night.” Price’s voice wavered with uncertainty, eyes scanning the mostly empty sightline, unease setting into his gut at the sight of the only house on the road. It was dingy, too dark, and too covered in forestry to look welcoming. But… it was all they had, clearly.

Ghost was the one sent up to knock on the door first, calling you, Soap, and Gaz a string of insults for being ‘too creeped out’ to knock. After three knocks, Ghost declared the place empty and swung open the creaky front door. Soap helped Price lug in a few things from the truck into the house, while you, Ghost, and Gaz tried to find the room with the least amount of mold and wood rot.

How Ghost was able to fall asleep the second he laid down on the thin blanket was beyond you. The five of you were in the same room, lying on different versions of makeshift beds. Ghost was closest to the door, next to him was Price. By the window were you and Soap, and Gaz was next to a fireplace he wasn’t able to light due to the wood in the fireplace being too rotted.

“C’mere,” Soap whispered to you, head not turning to look at you. His eyes were on the window, gazing up at the stars he could see from his position on the floor. He shuffled a bit so you could squeeze in next to him to watch the stars too, a warm smile softening his previously scrunched features. For once, Soap was quiet. He didn’t want to disturb any of the team's rest, plus he… sort of liked just being in the moment with you. Your body warmth radiating onto him, the sound of your quiet breaths close to his ear. It was calming.

So calming that it had him drifting off to sleep after just a few minutes of quietly watching the stars with you. You had fallen asleep sometime after him, your body still close to his, the two of you sharing halves of his blanket. The sound of the window creaking open was close to silent, only making the highly trained men in the room stir with unease in their sleep.

It was the sound of Soap sitting up, a sharp gasp echoing through the room that had the team jolting awake. “Bleedin- Jesus-!” Soap hissed through clenched teeth. His hand was pressed tight to the side of his neck, palm covering the two puncture wounds of a bite sunken into his flesh. Soap’s body buzzed with pain, a scorching heat boiling from the bite wound on his neck. “Fuckin’ hell… think somethin’ fuckin’ bit me,” Soap huffed with a frown, not knowing just how right he actually was.