Chapter Text
You’d been dating John “Soap” MacTavish for almost 10 months and you were so in love with him it was stupid. Charming, funny, handsome, and irreverent, he never failed to make you feel like the only woman in the room.
His eyes sparkled and softened every time he looked at you, and you couldn’t get enough. Dealing with his job wasn’t always easy, but somehow he always managed to find time to text, call, FaceTime, or write letters. But lately, you’d been hearing less and less from him. He always seemed more tense, more easily annoyed, more angry.
You tried your best to keep things light when he was on leave. You avoided complaining about the hardships of your job as a nurse working for the NHS during Covid. You avoided asking him about work, knowing he’d talk to you when he was ready; he always did. You filled your time together with singing, dancing, movies, art, cuddles on the couch, long mornings in bed, and late breakfasts. Anything to take his mind off of the horror of his work. You made yourself a reprieve, a place of rest.
You never failed to offer a cuppa or a massage when he needed one. You had whiskey ready for the hard nights, and a soothing voice when the nightmares hit. You gave him space when he needed it, and let him cry on your shoulder when that’s what the situation called for.
All in all, you did your best to be the biggest cheerleader and supporter for him. He made you endlessly happy, always surprising you with trinkets and small gifts from every place he travelled. You could count on a random bouquet of flowers on the island in the kitchen when he was away. Sweet words whispered in Gaelic, a soft touch, or a willing tongue. He treated you as well as you treated him, and up until the last few weeks, your sanctuary in each other was solid.
You’d noticed something was wrong when Gaz showed up at your apartment, there to visit your roommate, Aisling. You hadn’t even known the boys were home. Soap hadn’t texted or called or made a surprise appearance. You laughed it off when Gaz arrived, joking about lost phones and hard hits to the head that made one forgetful. When you texted Soap to mention coming over, he’d brushed you off, claiming the need for rest. Of course you understood, Gaz indicated the mission was a hard one, but it still left a bad feeling in your chest, your stomach unsettled.
You couldn’t help it. The tears came as you lay alone in your bed. Soap’s absence felt heavy, a crushing weight on your whole body. You were quiet about it, hopping in the shower so the water would drown out your soft sobs. You didn’t want to ruin Gaz and Aisling’s time together. There you were, suffering in silence, always thinking about everyone else.
A people-pleaser was what you were. You had a rough childhood, strapped with parents who only praised you when you were perfect. You wanted, no craved, approval from those you cared for. Your therapist told you once you weren’t Batman- you didn’t need to be the hero everyone needed. But you got such joy from seeing those you loved happy, even if it meant putting yourself on the back burner.
You went to bed feeling miserable. You didn’t cry again, but sleep was a long time coming and you woke with eyes feeling like they were full of sand from all the crying in the shower. In the bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked as bad as you felt. You made your way to the kitchen for a cup of tea, and Aisling immediately noticed your puffy, red eyes.
“You okay dove?” She asked, leaning against the counter with her own tea in hand. Grateful she was up before you and didn’t need to heat the water, you nodded.
“Hay fever I suppose.” You said, placing a tea bag in a cup and filling it with water. “I feel shite, so I may go back to bed.” She frowned at you, walking over to you and smoothing your red hair.
“Okay, pet, you just let me know if you need anything, yeah?” Your eyes filled at her gentle concern and you nodded, sniffling. You picked up your cup and smiled sheepishly.
“I will Ash. Love you.” Turning, you made your way back to your room. Eventually, you heard Gaz get up and the quiet voices of the two talking. Gaz laughed loudly at something Aisling said, and your stomach clenched. How happy they sounded. Why was Soap avoiding you?
******************************************
Aisling and Gaz were in the living room when you finally came out of your room. They were talking animatedly about going to the pub with “the boys”. Aisling caught sight of you hovering in the doorway and tilted her head, looking confused.
“Aren’t you coming lovey?” She asked. You started, trying to recall if there was an event happening you’d forgotten about.
“Coming?” You asked. She laughed, glancing at Gaz.
“We’re all meeting at the pub. Didn’t you know?” You shook your head, feigning forgetfulness.
“Aye, the hay fever has me addled. I’ll go get ready, yeah? Give me thirty.” You turned abruptly, pretending you didn’t notice the questioning look Aisling gave Gaz, and headed back to your room. He hadn’t told you. The group was going out and Soap hadn’t even sent a text. Your heart wrenched, but you brushed it off. Maybe, in the confusion of coming home and the business afterwards, he forgot to text and let you know.
You took a quick shower and used makeup and hairspray to make yourself presentable. Putting on your newest SBD, you matched it with chunky heels, gave yourself a once over, and headed to the living room. 26 minutes. Aisling beamed at you and picked up her clutch.
“Let’s go then!” She said with a cheeky smile for you and Gaz, and you all made your way to Gaz’s black car, with you taking the back seat. You were nervous. Nausea hit you half way through the short ride, and you couldn’t understand why. You were going to see your boyfriend, the love of your life. You should have been excited, but something was off. Soap had never, not a single time, failed to make a beeline for you when he returned from a mission.
Gaz parked a block down from the pub, and you all walked side by side, making jokes and laughing with each other. Once inside, the warm air and smell of beer hit you, and you relaxed. This was your favorite pub; it felt like home. Gaz spotted the 141 crew at a booth near the back, everyone facing the exit to watch for the bad guys. When you saw Soap your stomach did flips. He was unhurt, looking as amazing as always. But your bright smile for him fell when you saw his jaw clench at the sight of you, eyes falling to the drink in front of him.
Ghost gave you a nod and slid over so you could sit next to him. You gave him a quick hello and a warm smile, and then glanced across the table at Soap.
“Hey you.” You said, smiling softly. He met your eyes, jaw still clenched, and gave you a tight smile. You immediately felt uneasy; this was wrong, all wrong. Gaz and Aisling had gone to the bar to order all of your drinks, so you were alone with Ghost and Soap.
“Glad to see you both made it back in one piece.” You said, glancing from one to the other. Ghost chuckled.
“Takes a lot more than what we had thrown at us to get us down, eh Johnny?” He said, glancing at his friend. Soap’s hand tightened on his drink and he nodded.
“Aye, Lt, for sure.” Aisling and Gaz appeared, cocktails in hand, and you gratefully accepted yours, immediately taking a long drink.
Conversation flowed as easily as the drinks between everyone but you and Soap. With each passing minute, you felt worse and worse, your stomach clenching and your chest tightening. Something was definitely wrong. Gaz and Aisling went off to dance after several drinks in, leaving you, Soap, and Ghost alone at the table again. You weren’t an idiot; you felt the tension. The need to remove yourself from it became overwhelming, so you stood, announcing you were going to the loo. Once there, you locked the door behind you and gripped the counter, closing your eyes tightly.
He hadn’t tried to touch you, talk to you directly, flirt, or even look at you. Something was very, very wrong. Patting under your eyes and pinching your cheeks, you took several steadying breaths before unlocking the door and heading back to the table. It was in an alcove, hidden from the view of the bathroom, and as you approached, you heard Soap and Ghost talking.
You really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but they couldn’t see you and they were clearly talking about you. Pressing yourself flat against the wall behind the booth, you listened.
“What’s going on with you, Johnny? You haven’t even tried to talk to your girl.” Ghost inquired. Soap sighed deeply.
“I didnae know she was coming. I really just needed a night out without her mindless chatter.” He said gruffly. Ghost scoffed.
“Mindless chatter? Johnny, you’re the king of mindless chatter.” Soap sighed again. You felt like you’d been punched in the stomach.
“Aye, sometimes, but I have depth. Nova doesn’t. She’s exhausting.” Silence fell between the two men and you felt tears prick your eyes. “She talks so much but never says anything. I feel like if I brought up something serious, she’d laugh it off and start talking about Taylor Swift or some shite.” You heard Ghost shift in his seat. You felt like you hadn’t breathed since they started talking.
“She’s a nurse for the NHS, she’s obviously smart.” Ghost countered. You felt grateful to the masked man in that moment. But Soap huffed out a laugh.
“If she were my nurse, I’d just accept death was coming. God, can you imagine? Dealing with illness and having to listen to her drabble on about elderberries and bee pollen.” He groaned derisively. “I came here tonight to pull, and then she showed up. Who invited her? I didn’t tell her.”
You pressed your eyes closed tightly. He was talking so nonchalantly about how stupid you were, and how he was looking for someone else.
“Aisling, I assume. Hard to pretend you’re not going out with your friend’s boyfriend when your boyfriend is at your house.” Silence fell between the men. You realized you needed to leave before you made a fool of yourself. At least more than you already had. You took several deep, steadying breaths, and walked around the wall, smiling sheepishly at the men.
“You know, I’m actually not feeling well. I think I’ll call it a night and head to bed. Hay fever has been kicking my arse.” You said, reaching across Ghost for your purse. Ghost looked up at you, concern flashing in his eyes.
“You okay, love?” He asked. You laughed dismissively and waved a hand.
“Yeah, I just feel like shite. A night in bed should do the trick.” You looked over at Soap. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” He nodded, barely looking at you. Ghost grabbed your wrist before you could turn away.
“How are you getting home? Not walking, surely.” He shook your head.
“I’ll hire a car, it’s fine.” He eyed you for a long moment and then nodded, glancing at Soap.
“Text when you make it home.” Ghost said, eyes still on Soap. You nodded, pulling your arm free.
“Have fun you two. Tell Aisling for me please.” And then you turned and walked out. You made it to the sidewalk holding in tears. You didn’t feel like standing outside waiting on an Uber, so you turned in the direction of your house, just a few blocks away, and started walking. The night was chilly, and you wished you’d brought a jacket. What was going on? Why was Soap treating you this way? What had you done? You spent the walk going over all your recent interactions trying to pinpoint where you’d caused a problem. When you made it home, you collapsed into your bed and sobbed.
******************************************
Ghost was staring at Johnny. Soap looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, incredulous.
“Something to say, Lt?” He asked. Ghost grunted, lifting his balaclava to take a sip from his drink.
“I’d not have let my girl get home on her own. I’d have at least waited with her until her Uber arrived.” Soap shrugged, throwing back the last of his drink.
“She wanted to leave and I was comfortable.” Ghost scoffed at his friend, seeing a side of him he was not familiar with.
“Johnny, what the fuck?” He asked in a low voice. Soap shrugged again.
“I didnae invite her and I didnae want to see her. I just needed a fucking breather before I had to hear about whatever stupid shite she wanted to talk about. She’s a big girl. She’ll be fine.”
*****************************************
A week passed since the night at the pub. You hadn’t heard from Soap, and you certainly hadn’t seen him. You’d gone to work a few shifts at the hospital, but mostly hung out alone in your room. Aisling looked at you with concern when she saw you, but she was so wrapped up in Gaz, you weren’t her top priority. You understood. Being in love could blind people to anything outside of their happy bubble.
Eight days in, you’d finally had enough. You’d had a few drinks, and felt brave. You were sitting cross-legged on your bed when you picked up the phone and texted Soap.
🌟: I think we need to talk. This is shite.
You hit send, and forced your shoulders back, confident that you deserved answers. After several minutes, the three bubbles popped up, indicating the Soap was responding.
🫧: okay. I’ll come by. Give me half an hour.
You shot back a quick “okay” and threw your phone down on the bed. Aisling was out with Gaz, so it would just be the two of you. You got up to make yourself presentable, throwing on a black crop top and some light-wash jeans. You tousled your hair, gave yourself a once-over in your mirror, and then headed to the living room to wait. True to his word, he arrived right when he said he would.
At his knock, you launched off the couch and headed to the door, flinging it wide and leaning against it. You gave him what you hoped was your most annoyed look, and then stepped back so he could enter. He kicked off his boots, not looking at you, and then headed to the living room. You followed him in, trying to exude way more confidence than you felt, and you remained standing when he sat. He looked up at you, a hardness you’d never seen boring into you.
“So what’s going on then? I’ve heard not hide nor hair of you since you got back.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. You hoped you looked stern because your heart was pounding and you knew your hands were shaking. You weren’t the stern type. He looked up at you and sighed loudly, standing. He moved towards you and put his hands together as if he were going to pray and then said,
“You are the most vapid, superficial person I have ever met. Everything that comes out of your mouth is idiotic and has literally zero meaning. Hearing you talk has become one of the most annoying things I could possibly think of, and I have to listen to Gaz sing karaoke at least twice a week. When I came home and realized I’d have to see you, I wished that I was back on a literal battlefield getting shot at. This?” He pointed at both of you, eyebrows raised. “Is the most ridiculous relationship I’ve ever been in. I can’t even believe you’re responsible for saving lives because I wouldn’t let you fetch me a plaster. I’d rather have literally any other woman if it meant I didn’t have to hear you talk about some faerie smut book or what Taylor Swift was eating for lunch the day prior. Does that make things clear enough? Or are you too stupid to understand that?”
Your body felt cold. You couldn’t take in a breath. You felt numb everywhere. Your chest ached. Your mouth hung open in a silent dissent. Heat flooded your cheeks, creeping across your neck and chest. Tears filled your eyes. You looked down at the floor, unable to meet Soap’s eyes, as shame flooded your whole body. A tear fell, rolling down your cheek as you stared at the floor.
“I, uh, I….god, I’m sorry.” You stuttered, trying to process all that had been said. You glanced up at him, unable to make eye contact, but saw his jaw tensed, teeth grinding. You wiped away the traitorous tear and raised your chin.
“I apologize. I’ve obviously made you incredibly unhappy and was too oblivious to notice. I’ll, um. You can see yourself out.” You stumbled, practically running for your room. You slammed your door behind you and leaned against the door, sliding down until you were sitting with your knees up. You pressed your forehead into your knees, wrapping your arms around your shins, and let the tears flow. You heard the front door open and then close softly. You stayed where you were long into the night.
****************************************
Three months later:
Aisling was concerned. Her happy, bubbly best friend had become a shell of herself; a walking zombie. She didn’t laugh anymore. She didn’t sing while she cooked. She didn’t dance with the mop while cleaning. She didn’t go out. She didn’t spew random facts at the dinner table, or talk about things she found interesting in her reading. She stopped cheering for her favorite football team, and never went out. When at home she stayed in sweats and oversized t-shirts, hair in a messy, often oily, bun. She never wore makeup and she almost never smiled. Eye contact was a thing of the past. She asked Aisling about her days, listening intently as she vented, always cooing with reassurance, but never talked about herself.
She wasn’t Nova.
Nova loved to garden and talk about the pretty birds she’d seen in the yard. Nova loved baking, loved filling the house with warm scents and feeding everyone. This Nova barely ate, her weight dropping to the point of being concerning. This Nova had constant bags under her eyes and hid in her room most of the time.
Her Nova loved talking about geo-politics and ranting about the importance of recycling. This Nova never said a word about anything more serious than a bad driver she’d encountered. She’d stopped talking about which Pokémon she’d caught near Piccadilly and which towns in the UK with dirty names she’d like to visit (Lord Hereford’s Knob in Wales being her top choice). This Nova was a skeleton crew, a caricature of the real Nova. This Nova broke her heart.
She’s talked to Kyle, or Gaz, as everyone on his team called him, about the drastic changes in Nova’s personality. She knew, of course, there’d been a falling out with Soap, but she didn’t know the specifics. Nova wouldn’t say. Kyle told her about Soap’s sudden need to fuck every woman he could bag, his aloofness, and constant tension. He described Soap as a spring, ready to release violently at any moment if the pressure became too much. Something had happened on their last mission that changed him, but Kyle couldn’t say. Classified and all that.
Aisling encouraged Kyle to talk to Soap, to try and get to the bottom of the issue because she missed her Nova. Kyle said he had tried and was chewed out repeatedly. His Johnny was gone too. Their hearts ached badly, both wanting to help their friends, but nothing seemed to work. They looked and sounded like their friends, but they were poor imitations. Everyone was suffering.
One particular Saturday night, Aisling had had enough. She found Nova in her sweatpants and t-shirt and got angry. She grabbed Nova by the shoulders and shook her.
“Tell me what to do to help you!” She cried. Nova’s eyes flooded with tears that she desperately tried to blink back. Aisling had pulled her into a tight hug, her chin resting on Nova’s bony shoulder. “Please tell me how to help you.” She sobbed, tears running down her cheeks. After talking briefly, Nova agreed to go out with Aisling, just the two of them. She’s even gifted Aisling with eye contact and a cheeky smile.
“Anything for you hen.” she said, voice thick with emotion. And she came through. She put on makeup, did her hair, and found an outfit that reasonably fit her. When had she lost so much weight She’d wondered to herself.
The women made their way into their favorite club, the bass from the speakers beating into their chests. Both discarded their coats and bags at a booth and immediately made their way to the dance floor, foregoing drinks. The music pulsed around them and they lost themselves, gyrating and singing along. Aisling saw her Nova then, smiling under the flashing lights. She wanted this to last forever.
After an hour or so, both women decided they needed a drink and made their way to the bar. The bartender appeared before them as if by magic and winked as he took their drink orders. While waiting for their drinks to appear, Nova felt a hand slide along her lower back, coming to rest with fingers on her hip. She turned to find an attractive, clean-shaven man standing beside her, straight white teeth flashing in a seductive smile.
“Let me buy you a drink!” He yelled over the music. Nova glanced at Aisling who smiled encouragingly. Nova turned back to the man. “Yeah, alright!” She yelled back, giving him a winning grin. And that was that. She spent the rest of the evening talking to him, leaning in close, brushing fingers lightly across his chest, his biceps. Aisling was the consummate wingman, staying close to make sure Nova was okay, but giving them privacy. When Nova signaled she was leaving with the man, Trevor, Aisling got her to share her location and then headed home. She didn’t see Nova for the rest of the night.
For days after, Nova was herself again. Laughing, joking, talking, smiling. But it was short-lived. Trevor wasn’t Soap. It didn’t take Nova long to figure that out. Then it was back to new Nova, sad Nova, the Nova Aisling couldn’t reach.
Aisling decided she hated Soap. He had robbed her of the best thing in her life. So when she got invited to an event at the 141 base, she decided to say something.
It was a Christmas do, the base decorated nicely for the holiday. Aisling had left Nova at home, sweatpants and oily bun posted up on the couch watching Bridgerton. she was wearing an emerald green, velvet dress and had let her hair down. She was not the only guest on base, which made her feel more comfortable, but she immediately saw Soap, blonde woman on his lap, laughing and joking, giving soft kisses to the woman’s jaw and cheeks. Anger made her flush. Kyle saw what was coming and advised her against it, but realized what was about to happen was inevitable. He stood back, sipping his whiskey, as Aisling stormed over to the sergeant.
It took a moment for Soap to see her, his face buried in the blonde woman’s hair, but when he did he looked startled.
“Aisling” he said, noting the fury on her face. She rested one hand on her hip, the other raised to point a finger in his face.
“You mother fucking cunt.” She hissed, the blonde woman finally looking at her, eyes wide. She glanced at Soap and then back at Aisling, mouth in a thin line. Soap looked aghast, having never heard Aisling angry.
“What—“ he managed to get out before Aisling let loose.
“You piece of shit. You RUINED my best friend. You DESTROYED her. How fucking dare you. She was the best person I knew, always so selfless and happy and comforting, and you saw that, accepted it, and then made her feel bad about it!” She yelled. She didn’t notice that the room had gotten quiet. The blonde woman stood and stepped away, deciding she didn’t want any part of whatever this was. Soap opened his mouth to speak, but Aisling cut him off.
“She was the brightest light in England. And you fucking snuffed her out. How very dare you?? How fucking dare you! She loved you and you DESTROYED her! She hasn’t looked me in the eyes in MONTHS and it’s because you made her feel less than. She is a literal ANGEL and you made her feel dirty. I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself.” She yelled before turning away abruptly and walking back to Kyle. The party remained silent for a few minutes before someone decided it was best to redirect everyone. Soap looked devastated. Silently, with no word to anyone, he left the room and wasn’t seen for the rest of the night. The blonde woman found her way home, and no one even remembered she’d been there