(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)
Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.
Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.
Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and
The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.
Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.
(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)
And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.
They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.
When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.
There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.
His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”
“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.
His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.
His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”
Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.
“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”
“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”
It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.
The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.
The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.
Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too.
So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner.
His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.
“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.
“That’s right.”
“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.
Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”
“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.”
Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”
“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”
The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.
Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”
“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”
Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.
He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.
The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always
“Whit's wrang?”
There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.
Simon takes off the mask.
The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face.
Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”
“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.
Not anymore.
This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.
He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.
Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”
Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.
Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year
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Lady Gotham raises Danny as a single mother
Danny gets de-aged and Clockwork sends him to live with his Daughter, Lady Gotham.
You would expect Lady Gotham to look very Gothic. Like a noble lady from the 1600′s or a ghostly woman in a large veil. Maybe even just a mass of writhing shadows?
But no, Lady Gotham looks like your stereotypical Single Mother at all times, cause she always has to keep her Bat-Kids safe like the rambunctious children they are, and it’s a 24/7 job
She basically has the house-mom look, frizzy hair tied up in a ponytail, a stained apron from making dinner, always looks tired but always has time to indulge her kids games, all that
After she takes in Danny, she decides to create herself a Civilain Identity so she can raise him as both a Human and as a Ghost. And raising the future High King has it's side effects, for example he is constantly producing excess Ectoplasm which empowers her enough to maintain a Corporeal form for much longer than she could before.
Now she can just live in her City, and actually Interact with her citizens like she never could before!
She starts helping out more, dispelling some of the more Nasty curses placed on her City and making people feel more safe than before.
She gives packed lunches to homeless kids, every day without fail, and they are always filled with that kids favorite snacks alongskde some healthy foods. None of her children are going to go hungry on her watch!
She donates to the local homeless shelters, and gives them some Good Luck charms so they experience less problems. She needs to teach her kids good morals after all!
She starts a Rooftop Garden on her apartment Building, handing out the produce to anybody who asks to borrow some. Somehow she never runs out no matter how much they ask for. It's good manners to treat your neighbors with respect! A cup of sugar and all that!
She embodies the "Neighboorhood Mom" stereotype perfectly, just across the entire city instead.
And the Batfam don't even notice for a few months! She isn't doing anything big, just being a good Samaritan, and a good mom.
Then, one day, Red Hood shows up and tells everybody that he was kidnapped by a Lady who kept saying stuff like "We need to get that dirty ecto sorted out, we are long overdue for a check up!"
And now he feels perfectly fine. No more green vision, no more violent tendencies, he's just not as angry about that anymore.
Now the Batfam are trying to find thus lady, but it's kind of hard since all Jason could give for a description is "She looked like a Stereotypical Single Mom. That's all I can remember about her appearance."
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