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plexflexico · 1 year

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"Tell me a joke, Ghost." - A Call of Duty Fic

Characters: Ghost, Soap, Vargas, Fisher (OFC)

Themes: War. Loss. Severe injury. Amputation. Explosions. Hope. Leadership. Shitting on Americans a little (Sorry!). INCREDIBLY graphic descriptions of a rural legend that gets told over and over up here in the wilds of Canada.

Warnings: Everything you see in the Themes section above. So, so, so much angst. So much.

Length: 2.3k

Disclaimer: I do not play COD. What I have done, however, is binge consume about a hundred hours of clips and cutscenes from all the various titles in which Ghost features. I make no promises for accuracy, I just had some shit to work through in my head and Simon "Ghost" Riley was just the Blorbo for the job.

This work is intended for adults only. If you're not old enough to secure a line of credit on your own you should probably git. Go on! I said GIT!

**********

“Tell me a joke, Ghost.”

That was the second last thing he heard her say as she lay on the floor of a warehouse, bleeding out and half-crushed by the wreckage of a bombing run.

Her voice was beginning to slur, the panic leaking out and unreality setting in.

“Don’t feel much like laughing right now, Fisher.”

“Sometimes it’s not about you, LT.”

***

“...’friendly fire’ incident resulting in the death of two Canadian service members and multiple injuries among the Commonwealth Forces deployed. Major General John S. McCreary has promised a full investigation as the White House extends their deepest condolences to the families of all those killed or injured…”

***

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

Those words echoed in Simon’s head as he sat with Soap in the helo on the way back to base. The radio, tuned to the international news, carried breathless descriptions of the total fucking clusterfuck they just hauled themselves out of.

Some dumb fucking cowboy with more balls than brains thought he was going to go home a hero and instead he’s on his way to the brig. If there’s any justice he’ll never see the outside of one again and neither will anyone else who was on that bird or in their COC.

Except there isn’t really any justice. Just actions and consequences and they only line up hard for people like Simon. Like Soap.

Like her.

***

“...when pickings are slim they’ll scavenge and enough of those lazy fuck weekend warriors only grab the rack and leave the rest to rot and attract predators that keep the rest of the deer away.”

Her voice was bitter and laced with vitriol, but only for a moment. Like a switch her scowl bloomed into a mischievous grin as she downed her fourth shot of the night and chased it with some of the on-tap swill that passed for beer.

“So they scavenge these carcasses along hunting trails, and the easiest way to get inside a big ol’ buck is right up the poop chute—”

Soap chokes on his drink, doubling over as Alejandro smacks him soundly on the back.

“—so they just chew their way in, hollow ‘em out, and leave nothing but a shell behind.”

“Fuckin’ christ,” rumbled Ghost. “That’s the name they gave you?”

“Better than the one they tried first. ‘Medusa’. By the time I was done with the guy who suggested it, ‘Fisher’ kinda stuck.”

***

“We’re down again in 5, LT,” Johnny’s voice cuts through his reverie, bringing him back into focus.

“If we grab a truck we can be at the infirmary in five—”

“No,” Ghost spits out. “We need to go debrief. We’ve got intel they’re gonna need. We need to get it to them as fast as possible so they can get ahead of the Americans on this.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as a fuckin’ heart attack Johnny. How pissed is she gonna be if we fuck around where we can’t do any good?” Simon’s eyes behind the mask are tired, red-rimmed from lack of sleep and stress, burning bright in all the black.

Soap said nothing, turning his face away from Ghost’s stare and gazing out over the nighttime cityscape that flowed by under the fuselage.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

Simon aches to his bones. He and Johnny were separated as soon as they touched down, taken to offices and questioned, the same questions over and over.

His soldier's recall is perfect and no detail is too small to be left out. Hours and hours of it, but he sat and took it and hoped that Soap was able to do the same.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

Soap bursts into the hallway to find Ghost waiting for him, sprawled in a chair and flicking his thumb along the screen of his phone.

“Thought I’d never get out of there,” the sergeant grumbled. “Six fucking hours and the shittiest fucking tea they could find—”

“She’s still in surgery.”

Ghost’s voice is quiet. Flat.

“How— Is she gonna be okay?”

“Don’t know. Not a medic.”

“What now?”

“We smell like we’ve been rolling in dead bodies and pigshit. Hit the showers. Meet me in the mess in 30,” he growled as he lifted himself off the chair and stalked down the hallway, heading for the exit and not waiting for a reply.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

His skin burned pleasantly under the needle spray, the boiling heat of it helping him believe he might be finally getting clean after days of being stuck without any facilities in a city under siege. He should have been used to those conditions, but this mission left him feeling unclean in a way he couldn’t articulate.

“Tell me a joke, Ghost.”

Fuck. She loves to laugh. Always laughing about anything— nothing— whatever. Always ready to make him laugh.

***

“Hey Fisher, got a joke for ya. Knock Knock—”

“Come back with a warrant, LT.”

***

She liked to argue, too. Never afraid to say what was on her mind and never afraid to challenge anyone when what was right was on the line but also knowing how to bust balls just enough to get someone to listen to her.

***

“Hey, Fisher! What country’s capital is the fastest growing?”

“I dunno, LT. Which one?”

“Ireland. Every day it’s Dublin.”

***

He scrubbed shampoo into his hair and rinsed off, rolling his shoulders to loosen them as he shut off the taps and grabbed a towel.

***

“You gonna take that shot, Fisher, or are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”

“If you’re gonna ride my ass that hard, Soap, you’ll need to put a ring on my finger.”

…and she made the shot before anyone could say another word. Clean and precise, taken the moment the target stepped a foot to the left, leaving every single sheet of paper on the desk pristine and unsullied, making it that much easier to enact the next step of the plan.

“Nice shot,” comes Ghost’s deep rumble in their ears.

“Goddamn right, LT. That was art,” she crowed, her adrenaline high.

Each of them could picture her, grinning like a maniac, eyes bright and flint-hard. They’d seen it enough now to know that she lived for that split second when physics, skill, and luck all solidify into the perfect moment. The perfect shot. The flawless entry. The snatch so smooth it starts rumors about ghosts.

She wasn’t a perfectionist as much as she was driven to get it right. Driven to get it right to make it easier for the next step, the next team, the next generation coming up the ranks…

***

Johnny’s hunched over a plate, pushing food around, ignoring the racket of a hundred different languages and half as many accents of each that always filled the mess to bursting when the Five Eyes were playing nicely enough to try to reach a common goal.

The twang of American English is conspicuously absent tonight.

Simon grabbed a plate and made his way along, scooping up enough to satisfy his caloric and nutritional needs, not much caring what it was since it was all bound to taste the same, anyway.

He slid into a seat across from Soap, his back to the room, lifting his balaclava just enough to shovel dinner into his mouth.

Not a word passed between them until Ghost muttered, “Stop playing with it, Johnny. S’not yer pecker.”

“No time for jokes, LT. Not now,” the sergeant sighs heavily.

“Not a joke. Eat.”

The younger man was about to argue when he caught the look he was getting, so he forked up some ‘steak pie’ and started to chew.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

It was hours later when Ghost’s phone pinged quietly on the table in the small office that he’d managed to commandeer for the two of them. The rest of the JTF Ghost Team were scattered, and only Alejandro was near enough that he could drop what he was working on and make his way to the Five Eyes installation.

They’d had word that she was out of surgery at least three hours ago, transferred to Trauma ICU for monitoring. Since then he and Johnny had been methodically going through every scrap of telemetry and positioning, every order, every syllable of captured radio chatter, and every last bit of data they had— trying to find anything they hadn’t already come across in the debrief.

The message wasn’t, as they had expected, Alejandro signalling his arrival.

MEDBAY C65E:

‘She’s awake. Asking to see you.’

GHOST:

‘How is she?’

MEDBAY C65E:

‘Awake. You should get here as soon as you can.’

Ghost didn’t bother to reply, heading for the door as he half-shouted over his shoulder, “She’s awake, Soap. We gotta go. Now.”

***

In stark contrast to the unending activity outside its walls, the Trauma ICU was a place of quiet, darkend calm. Lights were low. Machines beeped and whirred quietly, alarms confined to lights on status boards and the low hum of pagers buzzing on hips.

The ‘panopticon’ layout meant that each patient was visible to the central desk at all times, each bed angled towards the glass windows that separated them from the main space.

“Lieutenant? Sergeant? Please follow me, I’ll take you to her,” came a kind, strong voice from the desk.

Ghost felt his heart lurch, his stomach sour and roiling as he followed the pretty nurse with the copper hair to the window behind which Fisher lay, tubes and leads coming and going from everywhere.

How the fuck is she so small? She’s never been small. Almost six feet. Shoulders like a bull and an ass like a dump truck. Legs that could mule kick an enemy’s head to a pulp. Arms that could haul a comrade out of danger like she was picking up a lamb…

Fuckin’ hell. Fuckin’ hell.

No. No! This isn’t right. This isn’t—

I can’t do this.

I can’t—

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

“Hey LT,” she croaked, her voice sounding dragged over broken glass.

“Hey, Fisher.”

“You look like shit, Soap,” she managed to get out before she had to lay back again.

“His fault,” he griped, pointing at Ghost. “This fucker made me eat the crap they serve in the mess. I think that fuckin’ pie was made outta decommed tires.”

She smiled, nodding, not letting the tears that pooled in her eyes slip down her cheeks.

Ghost couldn’t look away from her face.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

“Give us a couple minutes, Johnny,” he said quietly.

“Sure, LT. I’ll go bug those gorgeous nurses. If you hear screaming, don't come save me.”

As soon as the door shut Ghost picked up a chair from the corner and took a seat by her bed, keeping his eyes on her face.

“I need a sitrep, Sergeant. You good for that?”

It made him ache inside to see Fisher struggle to keep her composure, and then win the battle with the storm no doubt raging inside her.

“Yeah, LT. I’m good for it,” she said, sounding stronger as she squared her shoulders and prepared to do what she had been trained to do. “What’d they tell you?”

“Nothin’. Just that you were awake and asking for us.”

“Turns out my mom was right. I can’t keep my fuckin’ legs together. Left one in that fuckin’ shithole and they took the other one here.”

“You in pain?”

“Nah,” she scoffed. “They gave me the good stuff and a spinal block. Can’t feel shit past my tits and I’ll be pissing in a bag for the next couple weeks. I’ll stay in the stratosphere until they get that fucking thing outta me.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Ghost’s heart breaking open in his chest because you can’t save all of them, or some of them, or any of them. War is going to chew them all up and spit them out broken, whether the world can see the cracks or not.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

“Hey, Fisher—”

“What’s up, LT?”

“Did you know I’m terrified of elevators?”

“Wh-what? When did—”

“Got so bad I started taking steps to avoid ‘em.”

The woman on the bed fixed him with a look that could have crumbled concrete, “I dunno, LT. Can you really trust stairs? After all, they’re always up to something.”

***

“...and then everyone was running and I swear to fuck there were a thousand lights going off everywhere around her bed. I was ready for the worst when I saw the LT come out of her room wipin’ his eye like he’d had his heart broke—”

Alejandro, who had been half-running to keep up with Soap as he rocketed down the hallway of the Med Centre, reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him around.

“Is she okay? What happened?”

“The lass is fine. Seems LT told her a fucking joke and the she got him back with a quip so good that he couldn’t stop laughing— then she couldn’t stop laughing. Busted open half the stitches in her side. They had to give her another two units of blood before they got it under control.”

Vargas started to laugh, “You’re all crazy, you know that?”

“You’re one of us now, laddie. Better get used to it.” He clapped Alejandro on the shoulder warmly, “She’s gonna be okay, you know? She won’t be in the field again, but she’s not out.”

“That’s good,” he whispered, almost to himself.

“Damn right, that’s good. She’s with us until the end and we’re not ready to give up yet. Not by a long fuckin’ shot.”

END

**********

...and if you're wondering what the hell animal I'm referring to when I say "Fisher" it's one of these.

#simon 'ghost' riley #john 'soap' mactavish #call of duty fic #ghost + soap bein' bros #ghost is the big bro #soap is also the big bro #fisher is also also big bro

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pinksweatergettingbetter · 7 years

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//siblings bein’ siblings :’)

boy theyre really piling on the dick with roger. and yet, it somehow feels kinda forced. not quite as goofy-forced as ‘matt swirl my brandy and show off my scratched eye engarde’ but still...

he’s so obnoxious that i wanna hold up a hand like “chill, chill, youre the villain, you dont have to try so hard. yeesh.”

In spite of everything, it's still (Tr)u(cy)

Did Godot also ghost write the gramarye creed?? We didn't need this man

I love that she's "magical girl Trucy"

That is a HUGE ASS SWORD. Trucy must be ripped to balance that shit with one hand

(Cries) the judge bravo’d her my heart

And Apollo asks her to be careful I fhfhfhggg

JUDGE! Don't call her a butt!! - Bonny: a fan of mine took some footage of the me in the show. It's kind of creepy but it might help.

Me: ok well it can't be any creepier than the normal show footage which focuses on her quite a bit anyway---

(Footage is shot from backstage)

Me: BODYGUARD. DEMAND A BODYGUARD IN UOUR NEXT CONTRACT.DO NOT PERFORM WITHOUT ONE.

"What a waste of time"

I know, sadmad, it is a waste of time hinting And blabbing on when the contradiction is SO PAINFULLY OBVIOUS

To this games credit, I actually looked thru the footage to check for the edit and it's actually there. You can see the screen skip ever so slightly. I mean it's a little improbable that Trucy was still in the same position after twirling but that's a neat little detail. Not bad, SOJ, not bad at all.

- (Snerk) sexy pan up shot for mr retinz

- I know everyone loves the 'what's crackalackin homie" line but it stinks of pandering to me

It's like mr grossberg saying his hemerhoids were doing the Harlem shake. But I don't even think they were referencing the meme back then.

Also something about the way they write Nahyuta feels like the equivalent of a foreign character saying "it is-- 'ow you say..."

Burger barn sounds like the shittiest restaurant on earth. I wonder if it was the Ramen Ranch in the Japanese version...

"It's pretty long so I'll just show you the part with.." OHHH NO. We learned our lesson in dual destinies. We watch ALL the footage, damn it.

That must be Trucy! ... Six seconds after she runs in the opposite direction, also shown rising up into the rafters. ‘kay. Sounds legit. Prosecutor sadmad, please call me a moron and threaten more insignificant reincarnations...

"It threatens to disrupt the karmic course of this case" You mean it's so bullshit that you're obviously going to lose, right? It's ok, you can just come right out and say it. Nobody will mock you.

huh. retinz just called sadmad ‘pretty boy’

gee whiz guess theyre gay for each other now. c’mon fandom work your magic.

I'm starting to really not know what the victim’s last rights actually are. could you be a lil more clear on that sadmad

“My OBJECTION.... is NOT FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!!!”

but it sure is for mine [snicker]

also gr8 excuse there, roger

“every industry has its own way of doing things, just as we in the legal profession focus exclusively on evidence and testimony’

really? for some reason i thought you were more interested in The Magic Pool and The Screams of the Condemned.

i can see theyre trying to write sadmad funny but its just not.... funny???

even with roger’s obnoxious persona i find him funnier. his texting sprite is hilarious. he just looks so fuckin pleased with himself.

Lang Zi says... Nahyuta needs a different schtick.

( well this numbskull has a thick skin, so there )

-holds back tears-

phoenix, drunkenly, from the gallery: DEAD PERSON... PUNISHING SOMEONE THROUGH A SURVIVING FAMILY MEMBER..? APOLLO GEDDOWN THE FUCKIN GHOS’S ARE COMING AAAHHH

“not bad for a shitty soap opera twist”

yeesh, that was a very sudden bout of self-loathing from the writers.

poor manov. somehow i feel more sad about his death than the entirety of the victims in DD (apart from Clay that is)

i mean he was just some magician tryna make it big.

(sigh) they tried to do the ‘are you high’ joke again and yet they still dont understand what made it funny in the first place.

“Strange are the karmic threads before me...”

is that Koorahneese for ‘shit, I'm losing!!’

NOW I FEEL EVEN WORSE FOR MANOV

i love when villains do that thing where it’s obviously fucking them and a jury would haul their ass to jail in 2 seconds but since it’s the bench trial system theyre like :3c I'm not admitting to anything! I just revealed something incriminating and suspicious as fuck but since my name isn’t carved into it you cant punish me~~~

im not being sarcastic either, at this point its just funny

apollo: AHH, HOW DID YOU READ MY MIND?!

roger must have assistant’s blood in him; all of them can do it

ohhhh. ohhh. i think. i see how he did it. if so, shit bro; that’s fucked up. but actually a pretty good sneaky murder method, with some pretty good foreshadowing that really stuck in my mind.

Not bad, SOJ. Not bad at all.

‘do you think the audience will let you get away with the twins schtick twice in a row?’

alright writers, your self deprecation is making me a little uncomfortable now.

i like picturing manov’s soul sitting on he judge’s head.

“could you hurry it up? I'm tired of listening to butterfly over there banging on about last rights. i just wanna see retinz get his ass kicked.”

wait did i completely miss something

what the fuck is with the random tuna boat joke

did i miss a reference to it before

is it a joke on turnabout: tuna-boat ??

hang on. is this a half-case?

they did this in dual destinies with the two last ones. i guess they can’t fit five full cases into a game after all... for some reason.

i was right! well done. thats a well written twist. anyway, most importantly:

IM STILL CRYING OVER MANOV. HE DIDNT DESERVE THIS

as much as i appear to like ragging on these games, i really hope the rest of the cases are as good.

sadmad: you f––

writers: [shake heads vigorously and make cut-throat motions]

sadmad: ..! ..uhh... [opens up a thesaurus] dim-witted... ignorant... imbecilic?

writers: [nod and sigh in relief]

sadmad: putrid red pepper.

“just some good old fashioned logic”

oh look at that they just admitted the ‘rethinking the case” mechanic is just an off brand logic rip-off.

wow that was the most over-the-top prosecutor breakdown I've ever seen. how did that even work? physically, i mean

maybe the soul butterfly is getting its revenge

NOO!!! NOT VALANT!!!

also holy shit that was one helluva hallucination. I'd like to think Magnifi was responsible from beyond the grave for one last feat in dickery.

Trucy’s absolutely right and murder is 99% never justified, but Magnifi is heavily implied to be a bag of dicks.

“Wow trucy, i never knew that being the best could be so tough good for your dating life’

“do you think I'm a naive greenhorn?” “No, she's not...”

don't use the ‘smile in spite of everything’ thing, don't use the ‘smile in spite of everything’ thing, don't use the ‘smile in spite of everything’ thing––

Ff fffffuuuuck

god dAMNIT

what is japans obsession with smiling thru shitty times??? its, like, ok to cry when you feel down, you know? its admirable to be strong in times of distress but your worth isn't based solely on how well you can pretend not to feel like shit

why not present that quick-ass thinking she did to get around Bonny’s mistake? THAT is the mark of someone who’s ready to be on stage. somebody who’s ready for any eventuality; that’s the mark of a clever performer. she kept a cool head and let the show go on; thats impressive!!!

get this shoe-horned in shit outta my face.

alright alright... theyre trying to have an emotional moment between siblings. ill calm down... for now.

Apollo: You’ve really changed Edge––– eh h I mean, Nahyuta.

Nahyuta: fuck you.

trucy: you don't like to talk about your past, do you? because you always change the subject!

apollo: its not so much that i don't like to talk about it as that it’s constantly being rewritte–––

[shotgun cocking sound from capcom]

apollo: I-ITS PARTY TIME, ITS PARTY TIME, EVERYBODY’S GETTIN DOWN BECAUSE ITS PARTY TIME

phoenix: you're a full fledged lawyer, apollo

apollo: aww gee thanks

phoenix: do you know the definition of full-fledged, in the bird world

apollo: uh

phoenix: it means they fly the coop. leave the nest. go to a completely different country, shall we say

apollo: ah

phoenix: just putting that out there apropos of nothing.

PHOENIX TALK TO YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER. CHRIST. shit. sigh.

apollo is now fucking dead, and living up to the title “Spirit of Justice”

#sulking over SOJ #ooc #just a reminder that the reason these are under cuts is the spoiler heavy nature #also because I'm a big whiny mcwhinerson

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