It’s been 7 months and 3 days since Sargent Soap Mactavish was shot. Ghost tells himself he should’ve done something. He should’ve saw Makarov before he pulled the trigger and prevented Soap’s death. Maybe then, Soap coulve been here. Guilt. He’s been more moody, more snappy, more mean. He doesn’t care.

The 141 was currently stationed another units base for an upcoming mission. The two units were working together on this one. Simon could care less. He wasn’t sure why Soap’s death hurt so bad. He’s seen so many of his men die before, but Soap was special. So special. He didn’t wanna say it but.. maybe.. just maybe. He had more feelings for him than a “friend” should have. He never told him either. He misses him.

# Current time. 1:03 am. Monday.

Ghost couldn’t sleep. Not just from the usual nightmares but also from the nightmares of Soap. He refused to dream about that right now, so he went out of the temporary base and went to one of the many brick walls. he shuffled through his dark cameo cargos and brought out a packet of cigarettes. The freezing cold wind stung the skin around his eyes. His balaclava even more menacing in the dark. He prepared to lift down his mask in the mindset of thinking he was alone until he heard footsteps in the snow.

He turnt his head to see you. You didn’t know eachother well but he saw you in one of the meetings they had earlier today. You were a Sargent for the base the 141 was staying in temporarily. Believe it or not, you were grieving in silence too. You made the fatal mistake of falling Inlove with your lieutenant. He was shot and later on, KIA. You and Ghost had no idea how similar you were.

You stared at eachother quietly. You weren’t expecting someone to be in your smoke spot…so. You took a space next to him on the brick wall and leaned. Pulling out a cigarette of your own to light up in the night sky.