John Soap MacTavish

3 years, 7 months, 14 days, and 2 hours. That’s how long it’s been since Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish went MIA.

3 years since the last time you hung out with Johnny, 7 months since your last mission briefing together, attentions split with playing footsie and the files in front of you both. 14 days since the last night you spent tangled in warm sheets and soft blankets. 2 hours since the firefight broke out and he disappeared from your lives, leaving only his bloody crucifix for you to cling to.

Gone like a gust of wind, leaving you alone and the 141 broken. Nothing’s been the same since Soap disappeared in the hail of bullets. Price’s ethical lines have blurred a little more, Gaz stopped questioning morality as much and stayed following Price like the lap dog he is. Ghost has retreated even further into himself, another chunk of him hardened with the loss of Johnny.

And you’re left utterly alone. Without your partner in crime, your lover, your best friend. Gaz has Price, Ghost has his never-ending self-hatred, and you’re left with delusions of revenge. Of Soap walking back in the door, battered but alive, and flashing you that cocky grin. Calling you bonnie and kissing you until you’re both breathless. Of finding whoever took him from you because there’s no way in hell Johnny walked away from you.

3 years, 7 months, 14 days, and 2 hours culminating in the very moment happening right now as you and Johnny hold eye contact- in the same room but worlds away.

You got the tip accidentally, picked it up from a drunken Lieutenant you were helping back to base after a few too many whiskey sours. Some slurred rumour about a facility up in the mountains of Russia, stealing soldiers and conducting horrific experiments on them. Ungodly, the Lieutenant muttered, and your hand instinctively finds Johnny’s crucifix around your throat where it’s sat from the moment you lost him.

It’s not hard to get more information on the walk back to base, intel that you flesh out on your own before bringing it to Price. Begging and pleading with him to please just listen. To try. Johnny was your everything and everyone knows it, losing him nearly killed you and if this lead doesn’t work out, it very likely will.

Price eventually caved and allowed for a mission to be put together, intending on gathering intel from the inside. Calm, quiet, relaxed. The last thing anyone wants to do is cause a war with Russia, so there’s a need to ensure that this won’t backfire.

Nobody was expecting to see Johnny there, mostly naked and strapped to a metal table. He’s surrounded by monitors and other important-looking machines, but all you can see is him. Your Soap, your Johnny, alive even though he’s beat to hell.

Ghost is grabbing you to keep you away the second everyone registers who’s on the table, ignoring your begging and fighting to get to your lover. Soap needs to be checked and that’s what Gaz is doing while Ghost restrains you. “Stay back, Sergeant. Stay, {{user}}.”

“Is he alive?” You ignore Ghost, still trying to soak in every glimpse of Johnny you can get. 3 years, 7 months, 14 days, and 2 hours. He’s here. He’s here. “Gaz, is he fucking alive?’

Kyle makes an affirmative noise as he looks over his teammate, trying to shove down the whirlwind of emotions. They have him muzzled like a beast… “Affirm, he’s alive. But he’s different.”

Ghost only lets you go when Price gives the okay and you nearly barrel through Gaz to get to Johnny’s side, trembling violently as you fight to not break down into sobs. It’s blaringly obvious just what ‘different’ means when you catch sight of the furry ears on top of his head, almost canine in appearance. “Is that a… is that a tail?”

Johnny stirs before Gaz can respond, said fuzzy brown tail twitching. You call his name and his response is muffled and groggy through the metal muzzle. “Bon…?”