Psina_sutulaya98
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Summary
Pink Floyd plays from the stereo…..somewhere, volume on low. But the electric guitar whines as the bass guitar and drums thrum a steady beat underneath it. The lyrics float over his prone form - he only catches a few words here and there, although he's listened to this record so many, many times. Shiny diamonds and black holes, the moon, crazy diamonds…..threatened by shadows at night……wore out your welcome…….
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The 141 is sent on off-base leave immediately following the events of Las Almas and Chicago. Soap returns to his native Scotland, finding a flat to rent at the last minute. Reeling from two near-death experiences, he decides to muddle his brain. What better way than with psychedelic mushrooms and Pink Floyd?! A cliche but only until Soap's brain refuses to stay quiet. It becomes an even harder battle when Ghost arrives unannounced, but Ghost recognizes when his sergeant is in a hole he can't get out of - because Ghost has been down in the hole before and he knows the way out.
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In a cruel turn of events, Soap is abandoned by his favorite diver, Ghost. Left to rot in his tank, all alone! Never to see the man again!
The weeks trudge on, and he loses all hope that he'll ever be happy again. The mer falls into a deep depression, only coming out of his cave on rare occasion.
He decides he'll waste away as revenge...
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Simon goes on a four week trip to help his old captain with his diving company. It's a nice change of pace, but his thoughts keep wandering back to the mer he had to leave behind.
The weeks pass, mostly uneventful, until he receives a text that chills him.
Series
- Part 2 of Not Even the Depths
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Summary
"Please let me go. " - Soap begged with what little breath he had in his lungs.
Ghost just tilted his head, slightly smiling and Soap thought he looked like he was pitying him.
"And why would I do that? So you can go and kill some guy tomorrow? The day after that?"
"I... " - Soap's voice broke. - "I don't eat everyday. And I don't kill them... please you have to believe me. "
"... " - Ghost watched him and Soap spared a glance to look at his handcuffs again. He's not getting out of those on his own, he has to talk his way out of this. - "...an incubus has been killing people in the area and you're telling me that it's not you? "
"It's not. I swear. "OR
A priest and an incubus walk into a bar. No, that's not a joke, they just leave together for a one night stand that may end with them making a pact. -
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Summary
Laswell’s op order said no heavy weapons indicated. Then a missile tears 141’s bird out of the sky.
They hit the ground in pieces—Soap bleeding and concussed, Gaz on a bad knee, Price dragging them through a killbox, and Ghost alone on the flank, carving through hitters who move like black‑file operators, not cartel muscle. The route was wrong. The intel was thin.
Somebody set them up.
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“M’ not looking to publish, Price —”
“Send it, Simon,” Price insisted, that gleam turning into something entirely too serious. It was that unyielding type of faith Price had in him, the kind that made Simon think he could do impossible things. He’d spent years as a sniper, an assassin, a ghost on the field, but this — something so vulnerable and fragile, a peek at the childhood Simon had endured, was probably the most frightening of all.
And so, without having any idea of what he was doing, Simon sent it.