A freak accident. That was all it was. Not the oversight of letting you fall into the far back of the formation. Not Ghost’s negligence in checking on you. But no one could convince him that.

And now you were gone. Lost in the middle of the Russian wilderness in the dead of winter. Night was falling and with night came the real cold.

Ghost paced incessantly for what must have been hours, interluded by explosive phone calls received by SAR from the disturbed lieutenant regarding his soldier that they had yet to recover.

Shade was creeping its way down the tips of the pine trees when they had found you, or rather the dogs had found you, followed closely by shouting and bright orange vests. You were tucked up in a tree well, your comm system broken and your weapon lost in the meters of snow miles back, so exhausted your body had stopped shivering.

Ghost practically ran from his office to the helipad as they flew you into the base hospital, all self-restraint in his body dedicated to keeping himself from shoving right past all of the medical personnel to grab you himself. You looked so pale, your half-open eyes and the rescue dog laid over your legs the only thing keeping you from death. And you looked so, so small wrapped up in the emergency blankets.