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If you were to ask the Credenhill base about Gaz and Soap, they’d tell you they were two peas in a pod. Of course, there was Gaz and Price and Soap and Ghost but we’re talking about brotherhood here. Kyle Garrick and his brother in arms, John Mactavish. The sergeants were always up to mischief and chaos, Gaz was mischief and Soap was chaos. They worked well with each other and most of the time, things worked in their favour together. They never expected this to evolve into something more until one mission.
It was meant to be a simple infiltration mission, grab info, and get out. A minor mission. What they didn’t expect was to be blitzed by hostiles. “Exfil, five clicks east!” Price shouted into comms, “Boys, get out of there.”
“We’re being swarmed!” Gaz shouted back into comms, as Soap covered his back as they made a descent down a staircase. That was about twenty minutes they’d need to run out of the facility. Gaz caught onto the strap of Soap’s vest just as a hostile shot at the corner they were just about to turn. The burn in his legs made a very clear protest as he crouched and took down the hostile before they were scrambling down the corridor to a conveniently broken window. They vaulted over and out, a clear blast of wind hit them as they began tearing down the terrain, running through to the surrounding forest to find cover.
The two managed to evade the splitting shots that whizzed past them, moving in complete awareness of each other. The hostiles were still engaging with heavy fire, and between the two they were already low on mags. It was an easy mission turned deadly. Soap had thrown one of his last explosives and had grabbed Gaz, pulling him to the left just as a bullet hit the tree next to his head.
Thankfully they managed to get to the safety exfil, the moment they got there, they were hauled into a getaway vehicle and off. The two sat together chest heaving, trying to catch their breath as their legs burned from adrenaline. It was a successful mission in the end, they got off with pretty light injuries considering the heavy fire they were under. A few minor scrapes and grazes.
Then the two knocked their heads together, a blitz of pain shooting right through their heads behind their eyes and nestled there.
“Fuck, you head feels like a brick.” Gaz hissed in pain.
“Oh, shove off, you’re acting like yours was any better.” Soap grumbled back at him.
“Might as well have given me a concussion.”
“I hope you do for that.” Soap gave him a shove which Gaz returned.
.
.
.
.
It was strange that day, when they had cleaned up and finally been allowed to get some dinner in the mess hall of their base after a long debrief of the mission. The two had collected their trays of food and were heading to their usual table. Unofficially the 141 table. Soap’s eyes sparkled as he caught sight of their big dark and scary lieutenant.
‘Ghost!’ Soap beamed as he walked over to the table a bit quicker.
“Fuck, Soap. I get you like the guy but you don’t gotta shout it.” Gaz gave him a grimaced face.
“What? I never even opened my mouth.” Soap looked at him brows brought together in confusion
“Yes, you did, you went like ‘Ghost!’” Gaz said, doing a terrible mimic of his accent. ‘lovesick prick.’ Gaz huffed with a smile.
“Hey, I heard that!” Soap nudged him, “And I’m not.”
“What the fuck? I didn’t even say... oh wait, Soap, think of something again.” Gaz asked slowly as they reached the table and set down their trays, Soap sitting next to Ghost and Gaz opposite them.
‘I want to set fire to Shepherd’s uniform?’ Gaz glanced at his lips and noticed they weren’t moving.
‘I can hear you. Look at my mouth.’ Gaz hoped the projection of his thoughts worked.
“What the fuck.” Soap said flatly before his eyebrows rose up his head, “What the fuck!”
“Oi, some people like eating in peace.” Ghost grumbled.
“Well, I’m currently wondering if I’ve become senile or something because I can hear his damn thoughts!” Soap pointed a finger at Gaz.
“Tell the whole damn world, why don’t you?” Gaz dug into his meal.
Ghost roved his eyes over the two, Gaz was calmly freaking out from the jagged way he was cutting into his meal, and Soap was outwardly freaking out from all of it. He made the conclusion that they were speaking the truth. “Cool.”
“Cool?!” Gaz looked up at him from his tray. “It feels very much invasive.”
“Better you than me.” Ghost shrugged.
“It’s not funny, Ghost.” Soap gave him a pout, “He could be thinking--” Soap was shut up by a thought shot from Gaz, and a clear embarrassed flush flooded over his face. “Oh, haud yer wheesht.” Soap blew out at Gaz, glancing down at his tray and shuffling a mouthful of food past his lips to keep his mouth busy.
“What did he think?” Ghost asked Gaz.
“Nothing that needs to be said.” Gaz smiled as Soap shot him a glare that clearly said, ‘don’t fucking tell him.’ “Ew, does this mean that I’m going to be hearing your thoughts tonight as well?”
Soap paused, “Can we test what we can do before I freak the fuck out?”
“You two have fun with that.” Ghost stood up and took his tray. “Do me a favour and mess with Price for a bit.”
“You have our word on that.” Gaz had a matching grin with Soap. Maybe the having this freaky telepathy shit ain’t too bad.