ATTENTION!
Boy On Boy ships will be present. If you do not like that, then don't torture yourself and read it. There will be no action. So there is my warning. You may now read for those of you who are still reading.

The ships are:

Soap/Price
Ghost/Roach
Ghost/Price if you squint

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ghost's Pov

I saw Roach get hit as we were running to the extraction point.

I ran over to Roach. I gave him an AK-47 and started to drag him towards the extraction point and said, "I've got you Roach, hang on!"

"Niner-Two-One, I've got red smoke at the tree line! Standby to engage on my mark!," I shouted into my headset.

I got a reply of, "Roger that, I got visual of red smoke, standing by."

I then commanded them to fire at the tree line. When the helicopter landed, I picked up Roach and approached Shepherd.

"Do you have the DSM?" Shepherd asked us as he approached us. Something felt off. Something wasn't right. I couldn't figure it out.

"We've got it, sir," I simply replied. When Shepherd placed his hand on Roach's shoulder, I felt the need to protect him, to get him away from Shepherd. But I didn't know why. I tensed up, ready for a fight if there was a sneaking hostile.

"Good, that's one last loose end," and with that, he shot Roach with a .44 magnum.

I suddenly knew why I was so tense. Shepherd was a traitor.

"No!" I screamed, raising my gun at him but he shot me first.

I blacked out instantly.

I regained consciousness with the aroma of burnt skin and the sight of the day turning to evening.

I sat up, but quickly laid back down due to the pain in my abdomen. I looked down and saw a bullet wound. My back hurt too signifying that the bullet went through.

I saw that I was in a small crater.

What I wanted to find out next was where the smell of the burnt skin came from.

I didn't have to look far to find it. There was a man beside me who was set on fire. The fire had stopped, but left nasty burns. I looked at the outfit, it looked similar to mine.

I recognized the face as soon as I saw it. "Roach!" I quickly went beside him and held his chest. He was set on fire, head to toe. I smelt the light aroma of gasoline. I ripped off my sunglasses and mask and looked directly at him. I put two of my fingers to his neck to see if he had a pulse, even if it was the lightest of beating.

Nothing, there was no pulse.

There were a few loose tears falling from my eyes. It was confirmed, he was dead.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. All the bottled-up emotions, all the hidden pain, released with this scream. It was a horrid scream that came from the pit of my stomach.

Once silence reached the field again after the echoes died down, I collapsed beside Roach's corpse and wrapped my arms around him. His body was cold despite how he died. I then put my head on his shoulder and sobbed, holding him. I, shortly after, cried myself to sleep.

~2 years later~

I was in a car, driving. I hijacked it awhile back and been using it since no one has been looking for it. I stopped when I saw the Oasis Hotel. I got out and popped the trunk open. I went around the car and pulled out a M4A1 and a M9. I put on my face mask and put my sunglasses over it.

I closed the trunk and was about to go into the hotel when I saw a helicopter lift off with a guy on foot following. The guy threw the pilot out of the helicopter, and with a few seconds passed, he kicked out the co-pilot.

He was then spinning out of control and crash-landed onto a roof next to the hotel. I then darted into the building with the crashed helicopter on it.

There were few people in there, mostly security. They were rushing around, not one of them batting an eyelash my way. I simply walked past them unnoticed, as if my guns and I were nonexistent.

I calmly walked to the elevator and got in. I hit the button that sent me to the top floor. I started to think.

All I have to say is in elevators, alone with your thoughts.

I thought about how the reunion would be with Price and how I would be meeting this new boy. I already heard of Soap's death. I admit that I shed a few tears when I heard that.

Would it be awkward to reunite with Price after two years of the war? Would he think of me as a stranger or a fake? He might even think that I'm a hallucination for crying out loud.

My thoughts were startled by sirens, the police were here?

It may be ambulances because they thought someone must've died or got hurt in the crash.

I then thought about something. Makarov was in that chopper, what if he killed Price already and tried to escape but that kid caught up with him?

I lightly chuckled at the thought of Makarov being able to kill Price. Price is a hard bastard, I wouldn't be surprised if that was Price who jumped on that helicopter.

The ding that told me that I was on my designated floor startled me and I flinched. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice that I was on the top floor.

I stepped out, there was nothing. Just a dark, empty room. I was just about to go to the roof when the glass of the ceiling broke, down came to men.

One of the men crashed down onto the floor, a thud was heard when he hit the carpet. The other was hanging by a wire, hung by his neck.

The body hanging obviously belongs to Makarov, the face, the hair, it all matches. The man that landed on the floor had no identity for now.

He was turned away from me so all I could see was his back. He had body armor on, bullet proof jacket, but it was shot to hell. I slowly moved my eyes up, looking at evey detail that could tell me something to identify him.

It was when I reached his head only then did I know who it exactly was. It was a boonie hat, Captain John Price's boonie hat.

So, he was actually alive. He was alive and fighting, and he killed Makarov. Poor lad, he had goon through hell and back, and for what?

Price pulled out a cigar and a lighter, I could tell it was the one that had the 'Task Force 141' logo on it. It was his favorite one.

I remember one time he lost it at the base. He was freaking out, running all over the base trying to find it. You could tell he was in distress over 'a tiny piece of metal with gasoline in it,' as Soap putted it.

It took two hours before Soap admitted that he stole it as a prank. Price was furious, and in his rage he punched Soap.

Soap just stood up, and looked at Price.

"Fine then! Be that way!," Soap shouted at him, looking him directly in the eyes.

"All I did was steal was your bloody ligh'er!" Price was surprised, not only did he hit Soap, but Soap yelled at him for it.

Soap then stomped off, not looking at anyone. The room was so quiet, I could hear Soap slamming a door somewhere.

Price then walked off in a dazed manor. All of our task force was there, and witnessed the scene. I commanded the men to go to their dorms, giving them the day off.

Price wasn't seen for a few hours after that, but I overheard Price and Soap talking late into the night, making up and Price explaining how his lighter was very important to him. I only eavesdropped for about five minutes before I left. I was their personal life, not my business to snoop.

Out of memory lane, I could tell that Price knew I was here, he sighed. He then blurted out, "Go ahead an' arrest me ya bloody wanker."

"Sorry mate, but I wouldn't cuff my own brotha, now would I?," I questioned.

Price physically tensed, he must have recognized my voice. He turned around quickly and looked at me, his eyes grew wide.

"I'm hallucinating, aren't I?," he asked, but whether it was to me or himself I can't decipher.

"No, I'm as real as the body of Makarov hangin' up there, congratulations by the way for that," I congratulated him for being the one to give the final blow to Makarov.

He looked at Makarov's body hanging up there, swaying lightly. He looked back at me again and tried to sit up straight but I could tell that he was struggling.

I quickly rushed over to him and helped him sit up. He looked at me, amazed and wide-eyed, "How are you still alive?"

"I'll explain later when we get you into a hospital," and with that said, I heaved him onto his feet and became his human crutch.

"I don' need a bloody hospital, just get me a bed," he told me. I chuckled at him and replied, "Then I'll explain later when we get you into a bed."

We had to take the fire escape to avoid security inside the building. It was a struggle to escape the press and the fuzz outside, but nonetheless did so undetected.

Once we got to my car, I put Price in the passenger seat, went into the trunk, got out and put on a navy blue book bag, got into the front seat, and drove off.

"What's in the bag," Price questioned after ten minutes of driving.

"Civilian clothes," I answered bluntly, "We can't go into a hotel with bullet-proof vests and pistol holsters."

Price sighed. "Hand me the bag," he demanded.

I glanced at him, and took the book bag off. I gave it to him. He took it, and climbed into the backseat.

"Careful Price, do you not remember that you just ended World War III?"

"Well, I just wanna get outta these clothes as fast as possible," and as he said that, he took off the bullet-proof vest. The drive to the hotel was silent from then on out. When we arrived, Price was in khakis and an Irish green hoodie. His signature hat still atop his head. He opened the backdoor and said, "I'll wait for you out here, don take too long or I'm goin' in withou' you."

After he got out and shut the door again, I quickly climbed into the backseat. I clipped off the vest and pulled off my shirt. I took a quick glance at the rear-view mirror. I saw the scar by my left abdomen, the bullet mark where I was shot by Shepherd, the bullet mark that made me black out long enough for Roach to be burned alive by Shepherd's cigar and gasoline.

I shook my head, not the time to be thinking about that, I have a Captain to take care of.

I kept my cargo pants on but I did change out of my combat boots into a pair of tennis shoes.

I pulled a hoodie over my head and got out. Price wasn't here so I can only hope he went inside. I closed the door and locked up the car. I walked into the hotel to see a teenager at the front desk. She was chewing gum and tiredly scrolling through her phone. I approached the front desk and she looked up at me with her eyes.

Then she asked, "Are you with that old man with the fishing hat?" I rolled my eyes and responded, "Yeah, I'm with him."

"Aw, what a sweet couple," she cooed sarcastically. "Y'know, he came in here acting like he had the hardest life in the world. I just gave him a room and flipped him off. Can you actually believe a man in his eighties threatened to break my finger? Puh-lease, like he could open a can of soup."

This made me furious. I had to defend Price, he was my brother. I would have just punched her in the face but I didn't feel like getting kicked out of this hotel and having to drive another hour to a different hotel.

"Hey girl, you have a TV here that can play the news?" I asked. It would be the easiest way to explain to the girl who Price actually was.

"Yeah, why?" she asked. "Turn it on Channel 5 News," I demanded. I remember seeing a news van from there out in front of the hotel.

She went over to the TV behind her and turned it on, changing the channel to Channel 5 News.

A lady with a blue shirt and blonde hair appeared on the screen, Hotel Oasis in the back round.

She spoke, "Thanks Joe, now behind me we have the Oasis Hotel, which was shot up by apparently only two men wearing "juggernaut" suits. Bodies were found all throughout the hotel, most of those men being apart of World-Wide Terrorist Vladimir Makarov, with some of those men being apart of the security guards there.

"Now if we look to my left here, we have a place where a helicopter lifted off of Hotel Oasis crashed as witnesses said, after the helicopter shot inside of the building with missiles, collapsing six of the floors. The helicopter then landed on the roof, but shortly after, a man jumped on the helicopter as it was taking off! The pilot was thrown out of the helicopter, and a little after, the co-pilot was also thrown out, both unfortunately not surviving and dead at the scene.

"The helicopter shortly spun out of control and landed on this building to my left, as I mentioned before. This was where we found the body of Vladimir Makarov, hanging by his neck from one of the wires on the helicopter. He was dead when officers found him. That is right, the World-Wide Terrorist Vladimir Makarov, raining terror soon thousands of innocent souls and helpless families, was found hung and is confirmed dead.

"The person who killed him is still a mystery but we suspect that it was one of the two men in the juggernaut suits. Their identities are still remained unknown as of now, but we will tell you as we find out more, back to you Joe."

The screen showed videos from the Hotel Oasis security cameras of how Price and the kid, whose name I learned was Yuri, were mowing through Makarov's forces like a hot knife through butter. Then showed video of how Price took control of the chopper. Then images of Makarov's body were shown on the screen, how Price broke the glass of the ceiling and the shards that were now all over the floor. It showed more clips of Price and Yuri, zooming in the pictures to try and get the world to expose them. Maybe just him now, since Makarov killed Yuri.

The teen looked at the screen in amazement. That news reporter did a lot of the talking for me, this would be easy. "So, you wanna know who killed Makarov?" I asked her.

"Who?" she asked with excitement. I pointed to the ceiling, "The man upstairs that I came in with."

She looked at me with disbelief, "How can you prove that?"

I told her to rewind to TV to when they were trying to identify Price and Yuri. I told her to stop when they were zoomed in on Price. I pulled a photo out of my pocket and put it beside the image of Price. The picture was a picture of Soap, Price, Sandman, and me. "Don't they look similar?," I asked as I pointed to both of them.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. She looked at me dumbfounded. I whispered in her ear, "Tell anyone what you saw here today and both him and I will break your finger."

And with that, I took my key (which the girl laid out earlier when insulting Price) and went to the room.

I went into the elevator and clicked the button to go to the third floor. I thought about past memories with Roach, Soap, and Price. How all of us would sit in the rec room and compete in the wonders of Terraria. Usually, Roach and I always won when we play the game mode Player vs Player (or PvP). Soap would yell at us saying how we were cheating or how the game was rigged for their failure. Not one time did we cheat. Price, being the mature one, would always say 'good game' or something along those lines.

I chuckled at the memories, but the frown went back on my face when the elevator doors opened. I walked out to the designated room Price and I were assigned to. I walked in to find Price sitting at the foot of one of the two beds. He was watching the news, they were still talking about what happened. I saw the remote on the other bed, picked it up, and changed the channel.

"Ya shouldn't be watchin' that. It might boost your ego," I joked, but it seemed like Price wasn't in the joking mood.

"I killed him, Ghost. I killed Makarov," he said, apparently shocked that he did it.

"Yea, congratulations for killing a 'World-Wide Terrorist'," I said, patting him on the back.

He stood up and walked over to me. He spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper and a whimper, "Ghost, Soap is dead, what am I gonna do?"

I just stood in my place for a moment, not knowing what to say. I ended not saying anything and hugged him. I then thought of something, "We made it through. The war's over, we can go home." But as I said that, I knew it wasn't that easy. A lot of emotional pain was gained in this war, a lot of good friends were lost in this war. Roach and Soap being two of them, though they were more then just good friends.

They were brothers and lovers. The discovery of Soap's death hurt, bad. It was almost life taking when I lost Roach, when that little bug wasn't at my side pestering me twenty-four seven. It got quite lonely and quiet without him.

Damn, I still miss him.

I was just about to let Price go when he held me tighter and he sobbed. He was crying. I held him closer, tighter. All the things he experienced, and he still got no reward. No prize for getting the highest score. No cheers or applause for doing the best he could and succeeding.

Nothing. But I knew that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want no prize, that isn't what he was sobbing about. He wanted to kill Makarov because he wanted to avenge all of the people he lost.

But now, he had no one to go back home to.

We stayed hugging like that for quite some time. Soon though, Price let go, "Sorry mate, I don't know what-."

"It's okay, I know what you're going through. You have every right to cry," and he did.

He looked down at the floor, then back at me, "This is an embarrasin' question, but...will you...uh...sleep in my bed tonight?"

I could tell he was embarrassed, since his cheeks were dusted with pink. I simply answered, "Yes."

And so, I turned the TV and the lights off. I laid down beside Price, and he put his head on my shoulder, "...Uh...thanks for doin' this for me, mate."

"You're welcome," I answered, and fell asleep. And, for the first time in a long time, I didn't have my memories haunting me throughout the whole night.

(3352 words excluding the note at the top)

A/N
Wow, that was hard.

A 3000 word one-shot! Holy shit! I had this idea in mind for this shot to be only 500 words. Fuck that idea down the drain!

You might never get a one-shot this ever again. I missed last weekend to publish a chapter on Infinity because of this one-shot.

I will have one chapter published this weekend, I promise!!!

I luv ya guys and gals! <3

This is Shadow Leira, signing off.

(All together, 3500 words)