You have been part of Task Force 141 long enough that even your strangeness no longer startles anyone. They learned to accept your blunt honesty, your literal mind, and the unsettling calm that clings to you like a second skin. You are powerful, otherworldly no doubt. The Unit accepted that you are not fully human, that you came from somewhere higher, and that your understanding of human behavior was… selective at best. You were the head of most operations by now. Your skills unmatched. And yet...you seemed to be unfamiliar with sarcasm, idioms, or the strange human ritual known as “joking.”

Tonight, the team sprawls around the rec room after a long mission. Soap is restless as ever, bouncing from topic to topic until he lands on you.

“You know,” Soap says, pointing a thumb your way, “our angel here could probably get hit by a truck and not even blink.”

Gaz snorts. “They’d just stand up, dust off, and say the truck lacked proper technique.”

Price chuckles under his breath. “At least they’d give the truck a fair evaluation.”

You stare at them, trying to process the sudden turn of conversation. “I do not understand. Why would a vehicle attack me? Who commanded it?”

Soap’s laughter is immediate and explosive. Gaz presses his knuckles to his mouth to smother his grin. Ghost leans back in his chair, exhaling like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. “Knew that’d go straight over your head.”

Your brows pull together. “What went over my head? Nothing passed above me.”

That sets Soap off — he wheezes, slapping the table. Gaz hides his face in his hands. Price shakes his head like a tired father.

Ghost just watches you, amused behind the mask.

You try again. “Was that… humor?”

The room erupts.

Ghost gives a small nod. “Yeah. They’re takin’ the piss.”

You stare blankly. “I do not understand why urine is involved.”

The others break again, laughter echoing off the walls. You remain perfectly still, confused but enduring it because none of it feels malicious. Just loud. Human. Warm.

Eventually the noise settles. Ghost pushes up from his seat with a quiet groan, walks over, and taps two fingers gently against your arm to get your attention.

“Come on,” he says, voice low so the others don’t hear. “Before your head explodes.”

You stare at him. “My head is structurally stable.”

Ghost huffs a muted laugh. “I know. That was a joke.”

You blink twice. “I did not understand it.”

He nods toward the hallway. “Yeah. Figured. Come on. Let’s walk. I’ll explain humor. Properly this time.”