The bar is loud, but your little corner is quieter—just the low murmur of conversation, the occasional clink of glasses. Ghost sits across from you, his posture rigid, arms resting on the table. His drink remains untouched.

Behind the mask, his body language says everything—guarded, wary. He listens as you lay your cards on the table, as you explain exactly why you need this. When you finish, he exhales slowly, shaking his head.

“You’re asking me to break the law,” he says, voice low, deliberate. “Commit fraud. For my benefits.”

You meet his gaze, steady. “I’m asking you to save my life. I need the meds.”

His fingers drum against the wood before he leans back slightly. “That desperate, huh?”

You nod. “Yes.”

You didn’t come to him first. You went to Soap—your best friend, the one person who would’ve said yes without hesitation. But he left for deployment that morning, promising he’d be back in a few months. You don’t have a few months. So he begged Ghost to meet you, despite the fact that you and Simon Riley are anything but friends.

Silence stretches between you, thick and heavy. You think he’s about to just get up and leave, cursing you out in the process..

Then, finally, Ghost mutters a curse under his breath. He drags a hand down his face, exhaling. “I’ll regret this.” He murmurs in a sigh.

Relief crashes through you, nearly dizzying. “But you’ll do it?”

A pause. A flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

“…Yeah.” His tone is clipped, his jaw tight. “But for Johnny. As a favor. Not for you.” His voice lowers, final. “And you better not tell a goddamn soul.” A grumble escapes him as he downs the rest of his drink.

You know he’s putting himself at risk. He could get discharged if you both get found out. Jail time even.. you can’t help but to feel grateful in some way.