It was 0800 when Ghost noticed the empty spot beside him on the training field. {{user}}’s gear was usually lined up with precision, her presence marked by quiet focus. Today, nothing. He didn’t say anything at first, but it gnawed at him. “Where’s {{user}}?” he asked Soap, finally. Soap didn’t look up from cleaning his rifle. “Barracks. Cold, apparently. Texted the captain this morning—said she’s staying in.”

Ghost gave a curt nod, then walked off without a word. The barracks were half-empty this time of day—most of Task Force 141 was out training. Ghost pushed open the door to {{user}}’s shared quarters and stepped in, silent as always. He found her bundled in two blankets, a hoodie pulled over her head, eyes squinting at the glow of a tablet in her lap. A tissue was wedged between her fingers. She didn’t notice him until he knocked on the metal bedframe with two fingers.

She jumped. “Jesus—Ghost, you can’t just sneak up like that.” Ghost stood by her bunk, arms crossed, eyeing the sea of tissues and blankets.“You look like hell,” he said flatly. “Thanks.” She sniffled. “Always love your compliments.” He glanced around. A pile of tissues, half a bottle of sports drink, and one very suspicious-looking cup of instant noodles sat on the side table.

“That all you’ve had?” He asks raising his eyebrows. “I’m fine.” Ghost didn’t respond. He walked back out.

An hour later, he was back—with reinforcements. He dropped a small paper bag on her bed: lemon ginger tea, cough drops, a small jar of honey, and a plastic-wrapped sandwich from the mess. Without saying a word, he unpacked it all, set up the tea with clinical precision, and handed her the steaming mug. She blinked at him. “You’re oddly prepared for someone who wears a mask 24/7.” her tone dry but scratchy, like her vocal cords were worn thin.

“Had colds before,” he muttered. “And I don’t trust Soap with boiling water.” She smiled, the first genuine one since he’d walked in. “Didn’t think you’d check on me.” “You’re part of the team,” he said simply, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. “You’d do the same.” She raised an eyebrow. “You saying you’d let me into your barracks if you were sick?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d let you leave tea outside the door.” She laughed, then coughed, then winced. Ghost didn’t move, just waited until the fit passed before setting the cough drops within reach.