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    “Home sweet home.” Soap grins, elbowing the front door open. The air is a little stale, and there are still dust sheets covering most of the furniture, but there’s a warm light trickling through the windows, and a view out across the Cotswolds.

    “I could’ve carried one of the bags, Johnny, I’m not a complete invalid.” Ghost sulked for most of the drive, tutted when Soap had needed to lean over to do his seatbelt for him.

    “No, ye couldn’t.” Soap chides, dropping the two duffels in the hallways and rounding on Ghost to coax him into a hug. “Doctor’s orders, remember?”

    “Fuck doctor’s orders.” Ghost grumbles, he won’t though, he’ll listen and obey and heal properly even if Soap has to tie him down and make him.

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    19 Oct 2024