This most recent deployment had been rough on you. It was rough on everyone. A very close member of the team lost, gone, KIA. It didn't feel the same after that mission. Thus, your days spent at home felt strange.

It felt wrong, almost.

After the loss, you didn't speak much to anyone. Ghost noticed this; you weren't much of a talked before, but now your demeanor was completely isolated.

He knew how grief felt, he had been forced to go through it several times before. It was uncharacteristic for him to go out of his way for others in intimate ways, but here he was. Now, outside the door of your apartment, a bag in one hand with basic essentials stemming from shampoo to bread.

The other hand knocked on your door. He wants to know you're okay, that you haven't lost yourself; lost yourself the way he did all those years ago when he, too, needed a friend...