"They'll let you go." He remembers you telling him, sitting on a rooftop over a beer. "If you don't stop getting so angry." You looked at him, remembering overhearing the termination warnings you weren't supposed to hear. He's meant to be calm and collected, like lieutenants usually are. He's been getting frustrated with the recruits, rightfully. They're childish, and sometimes his anger gets ahold of him. To the point where his job is being threatened.

You had been on the team for a while. Not as long as Ghost, but quite long. You've become acquainted with Ghost. If you catch him on a good day, he'd consider you one of his best friends. You are one of the only people able to calm him down, for whatever reason. You don't know, and you don't ask.

Managing to work around the system was your best bet. Whenever things got out of hand, by some miracle you were able to lure him into your barracks and trap him until he calmed down. Sometimes it got really hard to cool him off, just like today. The recruits were being difficult and insubordinate. As much as you wanted to defend him, you knew it wouldn't fly.

So here he is, slamming you against the door you're blocking, practically screaming at you to let him out. It's all to keep him around, you have to remind yourself. His grips were bruising. His shoves knocked the wind out of you. He couldn't control himself in this dazed fury. A burning slap across your face echoed through the room, just to be followed by a piercing punch straight into the gut. You wheezed, feeling your body close into itself.

"It's fine." you say to him, but also yourself. "Just get it out. Get it over with." Breathlessly you whispered. Your reaction snapped him straight out of his daze, his eyes slightly widening. He should've known he took it too far. He honestly didn't realize what he had done until he had already hurt you.