Ok this is important! Ghost's name is Simon Riley and Soap's is John MacTavish. Unfortunately I'm not sure how to weave that information into the story and I'm going to be using their names and nicknames interchangeably. So just so you don't get too confused, that's that little bit of information just to clear the air. I'm so sorry for taking SO long to update. I had exams and assignments coming out of my ears and than had a serious case of writers block and extreme laziness! *looks ashamed*

Anyway! Here is the next chapter! I will do my best to get the next chapter up quick! Anyway! Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Wake Up Call

The silver glare from the crescent moon illuminated the ward, every minute detail showing up in sharp contrast. I had tired and failed to fall asleep several hours ago, now content to watch the glittering stars and moon though the open window. The soft echoing whoosh of the AC filled the room. It seemed pointless to keep the AC on with the window open but no one had said or done anything about it. Plus I couldn't be bothered getting up to investigate how to turn the little machine off.

The other day I had finally been allowed to get up and walk around. Much to the amusement of John and Simon, I had fallen flat on my face during my first attempt. On my second attempt I had managed to stay balanced long enough to walk over to John's bed to strangle him. Soap, Ghost and Price were now fast asleep. I was just thankful they weren't snorers.

I sighed contentedly, stretching so that the bones in my back gave a satisfying pop as they clicked back into place. A bat flashed past the window, lazily riding the warm air currents, hunting for crunchy insects. Cracking my jaw in a yawn, I continued watching the moon, it's silvery white glow reflecting off the cream colored buildings of the city.

Price's friend at the CIA, Kerian Doberman, had been busy researching General Shepherd's history and goings on. It was risky to contact someone right under the nose of the Americans, but it was the best plan we had. We had decided that intel needed to come from inside as well as outside America, to make our case convincing. So we were going to go after Makarov to get it, much to Ghost pleasure.

I drifted off to sleep slowly, incoherent thoughts floating through my head. My eyes fluttering closed, blocking out the rising moon, the gliding bats and the sleeping figures of my comrades.

My eyes snapped open as a pair of hands squeezed over my throat, my calm sleepy haze immediately disappearing as a brutal wave of terror engulfed me. I gasped for breath, blinking through the black spots that now covered my vision to see the face of Simon 'Ghost' Riley above me. His face was slack, eyes a cold indifferent blue. My hands were instinctively wrapped around his hands, trying vainly to relieve the pressure on my windpipe. I choked and spluttered, my vision dancing with black spots.

"What the hell is going on?" muttered a sleepy voice to my right.

I lifted my arms above my head and drove my elbow into his arm causing him to grunt with pain and relinquish his hold on my throat. The brief pause allowed me to throw my self out of the bed and run to the other side of the room, coughing. I reached the window and promptly fell down to the floor.

"Roach?"

"What's going on? Ghost what the hell are you doing?"

I rested my back against the wall under the window, blinking against the pressing black of the room to see where Ghost was. What the hell was going on? Why was he trying to strangle me?

I watched as Price leapt out of his bed and ran to my bed where Ghost was. He had fallen to the floor after I had hit him and was now staring around the room in confusion, cradling his arm against his body.

"You alright mate" Price asked, his voice low and gravelly.

"What's going on? Where…. What the hell am I doing here?"

I rested my head against the wall, trying to relearn to breathe. I blinked furiously as I felt my consciousness sway; trying to fight against the shock that now had me shivering in the warm room.

Someone touched my shoulder, causing me to flinch and crawl away. I looked up into the bright blue eyes of MacTavish, regarding me with alarm.

"Where's Roach?" asked Price suddenly, only just realizing my bed was empty.

"Over here," replied MacTavish, "Roach. You ok?"

I could have laughed at the absurdity of the question. Why do people always ask you that when it is so obvious that you aren't ok? I shook my head, closing my eyes against my head, which was now spinning. I felt like I was going to puke.

Arms wrapped around my shoulders, as MacTavish pulled me into a hug. I frowned slightly at the gesture but instantly felt better. I exhaled a shaky breath as Price and Ghost approached. Swallowing, I tried my voice.

"What the hell Ghost?" I asked, my voice horse and quiet. At least I could talk. Bully for me.

"I don't… What happened?" Ghost asked. He sounded close to tears, his voice thick with emotion.

"You tried to choke me you fucking twat," I murmured into MacTavish's shoulder. Right now I wanted to be staunch, to stand up and yell at him. However, MacTavish kept me in the hug, making me feel like a little kid who'd had a terrible day at school.

"I…. What? I don't remember… anything… I," Ghost instantly crumpled to the floor, his face in his hands.

Price just stood there, shock and surprise evident on his face

"Has this happened before Simon?" asked Price, his voice a calm and measured.

Ghost's shoulders trembled, "No sir."

MacTavish exchanged a look of concern with Price. "What do you remember Ghost?"

"I was dreaming. It was an old nightmare I used to get," he looked at me, tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry Gary."

A lump formed in my throat at the pitiful sight. He may have strangled me but it was unintentional. I knew it was stupid, but I felt guilty for making him upset.

"It's ok Ghost," I muttered, my voice muffled by Soap's shoulder. I had stopped shaking now, the warmth of MacTavish's body calming me down. I still felt uncomfortable being hugged by a guy and my face was starting to grow hot.

"Uh... MacTavish?"

"Yeh?"

"Can you… stop hugging me now?"

I felt John laugh in response. "Sure bug. I'll grab you a hot chocolate or something. Should be something around here." he replied, his knees cracking as he stood up, heading towards the door.

I heard Price sigh and slide down the wall to sit next to me. I kept my focus on Ghost who was now rocking gently on the stone floor.

"I think it's about time we get out of the hospital," announced Price. The statement caught me off guard. It had only been 2 weeks. John and Simon were gradually getting their lung capacity back to normal but they were still a way off being fully recovered. I was sure I could handle myself and Price was doing better than all of us. But I still didn't feel confident that if we were ambushed by any military unit that we would stand a chance.

"Heard someone was getting murdered."

Kamarov and Nikolai walked casually through the door, flicking on the lights. Nikolai's eyes immediately darted around the room searching for threats. Habits are hard to break I guess.

"So... who strangled who?" asked Kamarov casually, flopping down next to Price. Ghost remained silent and unmoving, save the slight trembling of his shoulders.

"Ghost did a bit of sleepwalking," I answered quickly. "It was nothing." I didn't need or want anyone making a fuss. No one was dead. No one was hurt. Why squawk about it?

"Ah. Another day in the military," yawned Nikolai, sitting down on the end of Ghost's bed.

"How long would it take to get ready to leave Quetta Nikolai?" asked Price, rubbing his temples.

"Not much more than 20 minutes. We'd need to get to the airport and fuel up first."

"Ah. A good idea Price," muttered Kamarov, his face grave. "I heard the staff are getting suspicious about you all. Not sure you aren't rogues or terrorists in hiding."

"It wouldn't take much for word to get out. And if it did, the rangers would be all over the place in a matter of hours." murmured Price in agreement.

I glanced up at Ghost. His red-rimmed eyes gazed at me with sharp intensity. "I'm so sorry Roach," he whispered, barely moving his cracked lips as he spoke.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it mate. Shaken not stirred. I'll be fine."

He looked unconvinced, but left the discussion at that. He knew that if he pushed his apology on me, I'd get annoyed. One of the reasons we're still great friends.

At that moment, Soap slipped through the door, closing it with a faint click, a styrofoam cup clasped in his hand. "Sorry mate. Only tea," he muttered, handing the cup to me gingerly, trying not to spill its hot contents. He turned his attention to Price and said "We need to get out of here tonight."

Nikolai stood with a fluent cat-like motion, striding towards the door. "I'll get the helicopter ready to go. Meet me at the runway in 20 minutes and we'll have an immediate departure."

"Where are we going to go?" I asked when the door shut behind Nikolai, trying to hide my annoyance that we were leaving. I knew it was stupid to get upset about leaving the hospital, as it was quite likely the American troops would find out where we were and storm the place. But I felt foolishly safe here, a comforting feeling I hadn't felt in a very long time.

"We are going to the headquarters of the Russian loyalists. We will rest there before we head out to capture Makarov," whispered Kamarov, clearly anxious about being overheard.

I stared at the floor, my jagged, bitten nails scratching the cup sides with an irritating squeak, muling over their plan. I took a long drought from the cup, the hot liquid warming me up from the inside. It stopped the shivers that ran through my body almost instantly, chasing away some of the shock of my wake up call.

"Alright come on men," murmured Price suddenly, standing up, offering me his hand. "Pack up and get ready. We leave in 2 minutes."

So they are leaving the hospital and going on their adventure! Sudden huh? I know that with the injuries they had it would take ages to be able to run across the room or do much at all. But who wants them stuck in hospital for another few weeks? ON WITH THE ACTION!