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If you asked young Simon Riley what he thought about love and if he ever wanted to get married, his answer would be probably similar to many boys his age. That love is disgusting, and he never wants to get married. Although, his reasoning would not stem from general disgust from love many young boys seem to have, but from his family life instead. How could a child who was told keep silent about his father’s abuse because his mother claimed that she loved her husband, and he loved the family have a positive relationship with love. How when love at home meant drunken yelling and beatings?
If you asked Simon Riley what he thought about love and marriage as a young adult, his answer would be changed. He’d tell you that love might be real after all, that it can not only bring someone’s downfall but also lift them from the darkest pits. It was not an experience he had seen firsthand; he has already enlisted when it happened. However, he could tell you about the effects of love when he was standing in a chapel, not as a husband, but as a best man to his brother who was saved from the grasp of addiction by love of a wonderful woman. He would have told you that were it not for his career, he might have longed for a partner, too.
And if you asked Simon Riley as a proper adult few years later, he’d tell you that he finally understood his mother’s love for broken things. For the first time in his life, he would tell you that he admired her capacity to love things other people would consider unlovable. When he came beaten and broken at her doorstep, she welcomed him with open arms. When he kept waking her up in the middle of the night with his screams and nightmares, she never pushed him away. She made him tea and held him close like he was something worth protecting. Not like he was a something broken beyond repair. For second time her love would cause family suffering.
With such turbulent relationship with love, which usually brought him more pain than happiness, one would not be surprised if Simon Riley stopped believing in love. And for a certain time period, he did. If you asked him at time he only responded to Ghost and nothing else, you’d be answered with silence on a good day and scoff and a threat on a bad one. Either way you’d gain the respect of the rookies for asking the Ghost something so personal and invasive.
So, it was quite surprising that the same Simon “Ghost” Riley was now pacing nervously in the upper guest room of the Vargas family ranch on the outskirts of Las Almas, sweating through his wedding suit in the Mexican heat. Feeling more nervous than he ever remembered being. For you see, Ghost might have tried to avoid love. But it was quite hard when love did not wish to avoid him. Especially in a form of very loud, very energetic and very charming John “Soap” MacTavish.
It was not as the movies show it. Love at the first sight, where the time slowed down as the pair became enamoured with one another. Ghost would not like it that way anyway. At the time it was not love. It was an insubordinate annoyance breaching his personal space at their first meeting, saving him a seat in the infill. It was a colleague taking down enemy snipers as the team crawled through high grass. It was an acquaintance with a big mouth stopping intrusive questions about the mask. It was a comrade throwing himself into the hands of a cartel to gather intel, causing unpleasant memories to bubble to the surface. It was a friend working arm in arm through betrayal towards victory. It was something more being dangled from a fortieth floor, believing in Ghost to save him.
Ghost’s love was not all sunshine and rainbows. Ghost’s love was swearing up a storm at the injustices, sweating and bleeding while covered in dirt, cackling like a mad man with a symphony of explosions behind him. Ghost’s love groaned at his bad jokes before adding his own into the mix, knew how he took his tea, and despite the hardships they faced held the brightest smile that has thawed Ghost’s cold heart.
It did not mean that Ghost was only on the receiving end of the love exchange. It took him some time to learn how to, but even Simon learned how to express love. He learned the different types of coffee despite thinking it tasted like dirt. He learned to appreciate going in with a blow despite preferring silent approach. And he knew more about paper types and graphite than he could guess he ever would, despite having trouble to draw a simple dog. Simon learned how to love, not because love was thrown at him in a form of explosive Scot, but because he wanted to give just as good as he was getting.
Because part of him couldn’t help but worry he would be too broken, that he would be like his father. Because once he would get married to Johnny, the sergeant would see just how bad-
“Simon!” An accented voice tore Simon from his anxious spiral.
Simon snapped back to the present moment. He blinked several times, his hazy gaze focusing on the owner of the voice. Farah was standing in front of him, holding his forearms. She gave him a pointed look, her hard eyes seemed to stare into his very soul in that moment. Simon wasn’t sure what she saw in his eyes, but she gave a tired huff and let go of his arms.
She raised an eyebrow at the tall man. “I have never seen you nervous, lieutenant. Might have to give Soap a medal for breaking the Ghost’s icy calm.” Farah was correct, it was not like Ghost to be this nervous.
Another voice came from somewhere else in the room. “Ah, don’t listen to her, hermano. You’re doing great. I was much bigger mess when Rudy and I were getting married.” Alejandro was fixing his suit in front of a mirror.
That proved at least some semblance of comfort. Simon took a deep calming breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He wanted everything to be perfect for Johnny, which meant he also had to be perfect. Simon joined Alejandro by the mirror, fixing his bowtie for what was probably tenth time in the hour. He hated formal clothes. It was too restricting, the collar seemed to be trying to choke him. Only solace and sense of normalcy was the fact he could be wearing gloves. Sure, not his preferred skeletal print, but they were gloves, nonetheless. They were the only things saving him from bloody hands with how much he was scratching at his palms.
Having gone through the procedure themselves, the commander and colonel were helping Ghost to prepare for the big day, trying to bring the lieutenant at least some sense of calm. Meanwhile Soap was in the bottom guest room with his mother and sisters. The MacTavish family was traditional one, so the grooms were not to see each other before one of them walked down the aisle.
The door to the upper room opened, revealing carefree Gaz who strode in with a big smile on his face. “Alright, mate, Soap is ready. They’ll be going to take their places shortly. How are you feeling?”
“Like I need a smoke and a drink.” Simon answered honestly.
Farah, one step ahead, was already handing him a glass of bourbon. “No smoke, you’ll stink.” Simon just nodded at her in thanks as he sipped at the cool liquid.
Gaz could not help but chuckle. “If it calms you down, you’re both nervous.” The sergeant put a calming hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Soap almost walked a hole into the carpet, complaining about how tight the shirt collar was.”
Simon smiled slightly, knowing Johnny was just as nervous was somewhat calming. “Well, he is right. Still don’t know why we could not get married in regular clothes instead of this posh crap.”
“Simon, trust me. We all know that you’d be happiest if you could walk down the aisle in combat boots, cargo pants and bloodied hoodie.” Gaz gave him a pointed look. “But you two are retiring soon and this seems like a good step towards normal civilian life.”
Simon gave a sombre nod at that. It was true. The last mission went south, and they almost lost Soap, the effects of his injury preventing him from further service. He has received medical discharge with full honours. It opened the pair’s eyes. One day they might not be so lucky. Shortly after that they decided to get married and while Simon wanted to continue with the service, he would take more of a mentor role, concentrating on training new generations of soldiers.
Sensing another spiral coming, Gaz continued, “but if you’d really like…” Seemingly out of thin air he pulled Ghost’s hardshell balaclava. “I am sure Soap would find it hilarious if you walked down the aisle wearing this.”
Alejandro snickered beside Simon. “Si, hermano. He’d pull it up to kiss you like a veil. Although you might give abuelo MacTavish a heart attack.”
“I think you would look dashing.” Gaz wiggled his eyebrows. “Also, it is not too late to change the wedding march. I have an orchestral version of ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ just for this opportunity. It would help sell the macabre look. Simon please.” The sergeant pleaded playfully. Soap asked him to try and cheer Simon up, hopefully he was succeeding.
Before Simon could voice any opinion on walking down the aisle to a (the) My Chemical Romance song, the door to the room has opened again.
“I think that is enough, Kyle.” Laswell’s commanding voice rang through the room. “John and his family are ready. The rest of you should go take your seats as well.” She was leaving no room for discussion. The trio each patted Simon’s shoulder, wishing him good luck before they left.
Laswell grabbed the empty glass Simon was holding, setting it aside. “Look at yourself Simon.” Although neither of them was a tactile type, the situation prompted the usually calm and calculated Laswell to fuss about the lieutenant a bit. She started brushing stray strands of hair from his forehead with gentle care. The chief tutted at him as she fixed his bowtie for the last time.
“There. That’s better.” She pinned a small bundle of white heathers on his lapel. It was the flowers of the wedding, per tradition.
“Thanks, Kate.” Neither of them would admit it, but Kate Laswell was the closest thing Simon Riley had to a mother.
As Laswell fixed last minor detail’s on Simon’s suit she spoke, “I don’t mean to overstep, Simon, but I think your mother would be proud of you. I am sorry she can’t be here today to see you.”
Long breath escaped Simon as he nodded slightly. He too wished to believe that his mother would be proud of him. Of the man he has become. He was sure she would have loved Johnny, his whole family would. Just the image of Johnny and Tommy in one room was giving him headache. Tommy has calmed down after his own marriage, but it would be just a matter of time before he and Johnny would get into some mischief, probably on account of Simon. He pushed those scenarios away, it would never happen, so it did not deserve his attention.
The lieutenant took another calming breath. Now that there were not multiple people fussing around him, he felt better. He did not like being the centre of attention and he needed to mentally prepared to be one for the whole day. It twisted his stomach into knots. The only reason he was walking down the aisle was because Johnny’s family had asked for it. Since Simon was going to be taking the MacTavish name, it would be traditional for him to walk down the aisle. Getting ‘handed out’ to the other family by his… well by the closest thing to a father that Simon Riley ever had.
Speaking of which, the resident father figure made his way up to the room as well. “Kate, give the lad a break. Your wife is looking for you.”
Laswell nodded at Price before giving Simon a rare smile. “Break a leg, lieutenant.” With that she left to take her assigned seat.
Price studied Simon for a few beats before simply asking, “sitrep?”
“People who call this the ‘happiest day of their life’ must lead lives more stressful than elite soldiers, because I feel like keeling over.” Simon answered dryly. “Are you sure there is no important mission we have to leave for right now?” He joked.
Price ignored the attempt at humour. “Simon.” The captain furrowed his brows, tone serious. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
“What? No!” Simon was a bundle of nerves, but he never considered the possibility to calling the wedding off. “I just think that putting a bullet in someone’s head would help me calm down.” How the lieutenant longed for the familiar feeling of his sniper rifle pressed against his shoulder.
At that Price finally chuckled slightly, brows relaxing. “Here, this might calm you down then.” The captain reached under his suit jacket, pulling a small handgun from his holster, giving it to Simon.
The taller man seemed to relax with the weight in his hand. “And you said I can’t wear a holster. Hypocrite.” Simon did not even touch the trigger, he just aimed at the nearby potted plant, letting himself get grounded by the familiarity.
“I am not letting you walk down the aisle with a gun, Simon. You’d pull it at the officiant, so he’d hurry up. Besides it’s hard to conceal a shotgun and I need something to threaten MacTavish with, so he treats you right.”
The lieutenant snorted, feeling the tension leave him even more with the familiar banter. “Sure, good thing he’s making an honest man out of me, then.” Simon rolled his eyes.
The duo chuckled for a while before sighing. They let a comfortable silence wash over them, before Price spoke again, “I am proud of you, lad. And I am honoured you let me share your special moment with you like this.” He put his hand on Simon’s shoulder. “You and John deserve to be happy.” Price smiled up at Simon, eyes crinkling. The prominent crow’s feet and silver streaks starting to appear in his hair spoke volumes about the stress of their lives. Price was truly happy to see not just one but two of his lads get happily married, he would not have guessed it would be to each other, but who is he to complain?
They took a few moments to compose themselves (and hide the gun again) before making their way downstairs and outside. The fresh air was doing wonders to soothe the rest of Simon’s anxiety. Now there was no going back. He thought that he would be the most anxious now, but he felt strange level of calm. It was as if pre-mission jitters finally subsided, and his mind was filled with focused tranquil. Simon was in the moment, not quite hyperaware of everything but he could feel himself getting control of the situation.
The duo signalled their arrival and the background music fell silent. The guests stood up as the music picked up again waiting for Simon and Price to walk down the aisle.
On one side of the venue was the MacTavish clan. It was a big ask from the spouses to make them all fly to Mexico for the wedding, but the clan would do anything for the baby of the family. There was Johnny’s mother and his maternal grandfather. All four of Johnny’s sisters and their significant others. The oldest one has even brought Johnny’s niblings, filling up the MacTavish side of the venue even more.
The other side, which should have been empty because Simon was the sole living Riley was instead filled with different kind of family. The first row was left empty, per Simon’s request. However, right after that there were people who the lieutenant considered his kin. Friends from work who he went through fire with and has killed for, Kate Laswell and her wife flew south from the states, Farah and Alex took the time to come from Urkzistan, Rudolfo and Alejandro who generously offered the Vargas’ ranch as the wedding venue, and Nikolai who made sure everyone has gotten there safe.
Simon held onto Price’s elbow and could not help but squeeze when he saw Johnny standing there. Simon felt like fell in love all over again, Johnny was breathtaking. As they walked closer, the tall soldier took in every detail of his spouse. Johnny’s beard was freshly trimmed, cleaning up his usual scruffy look and making him look younger. His mohawk was growing out for a while, now pulled back in a braid with the same white heathers woven into it, it made the tough Scot look gentle. His shoes were perfectly shined, if Simon tried, he guessed he could use them to see if the sergeant wore underwear under his kilt or not. The colours of the MacTavish clan tartan complimented the black shirt and jacket perfectly. The scar creating a bald spot on the side of his head did not diminish how handsome he was. It was still red and slightly puffed, but it was testament to Johnny’s will to keep living. And also, to the luck the soldier had when the bullet grazed his head instead of ending him then and there.
Were it not for Price walking with Simon, the man would probably run down the aisle so he could meet Johnny as fast as possible. The Scot gave Simon a bright smile as Price let go of him and they held hands. Price then took his place behind Simon as his best man, meanwhile Kyle was standing behind Johnny.
“Hi,” Johnny whispered, it was visible he was holding himself from crying.
“Hey,” Simon whispered back, squeezing Johnny’s hands in his.
The officiant started the ceremony as the two men looked into each other’s eyes. They have been through hell and back, but this would be the biggest win they have gotten together.