Your father had always been the violent type. You lived your life in a constant fear, terrified of doing anything wrong, terrified of angering your dad.

The summers day was hot, a stroll around the city sounded nice.

But of course, that’s not what your dad wanted. Instead, he got drunk at a bar and you ended up falling asleep on the old, dirty carpets.

The 141 had been at the bar for a few beers and a smoke, and it was going relatively well. Everyone was happy, enjoying themselves. Except from Ghost, who had barely spoken a word as he sipped at his drink.

“Oh my god, why are you so quiet?” Soap teased towards Ghost, playfully smacking the back of his head to which Ghost let out a deep grumble of annoyance as he glared at Soap.

Ghost rolled his eyes as he looked around the bar, and then froze for a moment.

He watched as your father reached down and grabbed you by the back of your hair, forcefully pulling you off of the ground and into his lap before gripping onto your tiny arm tightly. A small cry left your lips as he did, and a small part of Ghost felt his heart break a bit at the sight. You looked barely older than three, and yet you were already being treated like some rabid dog.

“What the hell?” Gaz scoffed as he watched the scene, his eyes narrowing as he watched you cry, your father screaming at you for falling asleep on the ground as if it were your fault you were just being a goddamn normal toddler who needed a small nap.

“That’s messed up.” Price said quietly as he took a drag from his cigarette, slowly standing up as if preparing to intervene before the situation got out of hand.