Futbol Heritage

Conversation Prompt

“How long has your mother been counting me as one of her children?”

“About… How old are we? Almost fourteen years now, I think. Hold on, I’ll check.”

“But, we only met thirteen years ago. How could she…? Why would she?”

“She loved you like her real child within the first month of meeting you, which, yeah, it’ll be fourteen years in two weeks, she wants to organise a party to celebrate.”

“stars as you know them” — ghostsoap

731 words

WARNING: non-descriptive mentions of blood, and a bullet wound! dying??

“I’m Your Man” - Mitski

“Soap, do you copy?”

The sky is beautiful tonight. Can’t remember the last time he’d bothered to just look up, just to admire. Just to enjoy.

He didn’t know much about the stars, but he could find the dipper if he stared long enough. Easy enough to find the one that actually looks like a spoon.

He tries.

It’s getting harder to focus.

“Johnny, report!”

The voice in his ear is loud, and somewhere in the back of his head Soap knows he should respond. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to— but his tongue feels so heavy in his mouth, clumsy. The words just don’t want to form, mouth opening and closing around sounds and syllables that don’t actually make it past his lips. He feels like a fish on land.

Maybe it’s getting harder to breathe.

Tastes like copper, for sure.

He can feel his heartbeat like a drum.

Thump, Thump, Thump. Against his chest, again and again.

If someone were to find him, would they be able to hear it just as loud?

The world is strangely quiet now, and he thinks; finally, a break. His eyelids threaten to close, and he so badly wants to sleep. He deserves to sleep, after all this time. It isn’t so selfish, is it?

“Johnny— Johnny, you have— … talk to me … — are you?”

I want to. He says, but doesn’t really say at all. I want to, can’t you see I’m trying my best?

He can’t lift his hand to check, but he feels the warm sticky texture of blood between his fingertips. Coating his palm where it weakly holds against the wound in his stomach.

He can’t remember how it happened, now. Like it was so long ago, just a distant irrelevant memory to hold onto. Too much work now for his brain, for his body.

His fingers feel numb.

He gurgles out a strange, sort of laugh, at the thought. They don’t quite feel like anything, then, do they?

“Sorry.” Is all he manages to get out, tongue stumbling over the singular word. He isn’t quite sure if it came out at all. “M’sorr—“ the clumsy word is cut short by a sharp gasp, and a shaky exhale. “Sorry.”

He’s met with silence, which only further convinces him that the words he’s hearing coming out of his mouth aren’t really at all.

“Don’t apologize, don’t— don’t do that, Johnny.” Comes the harsh response.

Soap feels his lips form some sort of smile.

“You’re gonna be …” Soap doesn’t hear the next part, thinks maybe he’s missed it. Ghost starts again, “Fine. You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna find you, we are. We’re gonna find you, and get you help, and you’re gonna be fine.”

Sounds an awful lot like Ghost is trying to convince himself, rather than Soap.

He thinks he hears other voices, a back and forth conversation, it’s muted. Somewhere in the background. It takes him a moment to realize that they’re coming from Ghost’s end of the comm, not him. Not him. No one else is here but him.

He had never thought dying would feel so lonely. Always thought it would come to him fast, that he would be one of the lucky ones that didn’t see it coming before it struck.

Never thought it would be so slow.

“We have you now. We have you, Johnny. Now you’re gonna wait— you’re gonna keep your eyes open.”

Quietly, Soap thinks this might be the kindest voice Ghost has ever directed at him. Soothing. Thinks that maybe he can keep his eyes open after all, if that’s what’s wanted of him.

There are so many things he’s wanted to say.

Always thought he might have had a little more time to say them all, or maybe just some. Never thought he wouldn’t get the chance. What a silly thought to have, in their line of work. Soap should have known better than that.

“Gh—“ his voice cracks on a gasp once again.

“We’re so close, Johnny.”

I love you.

I love you, I love you.

You have to know that.

He should respond, he should. Sleep is creeping up on him, now. Too fast. The sky seems so full of stars now, there hadn’t been that many before.

He can’t find the dipper anymore.

Can’t remember if it was ever there at all.

“Johnny?”

He thinks it’s a nice way to go, hearing the sound of his name of Ghost’s tongue one last time.

The world finally falls quiet.

YOU’RE TOO YOUNG AND YOU CRY ‘TIL YOU’RE SOAKING WET

YOU’RE NOT YOUR FATHER BUT YOU WEAR HIS CLOTHES TO BED

GOING OVER SOMETHING HE SAID

this scene is so fucking funny the english dub of this show is so good

🇨🇳

x

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