Is that possible? Ever since Soap's death at Makarov's hands, you've disappeared without a trace. Everyone tried to look for you, including Ghost. At first, he gave up when he blamed everything on you. Before you ran away, he started shouting at you, "It's your fault!" "If you had reacted sooner, none of this would have happened!"

The longer you were gone, the more Ghost felt an unpleasant tightness in his chest. He didn't know why he felt guilty. Maybe it was because Captain Price and Gaz were disappointed in him. He began to regret those words, but in his shock and grief over losing Soap, he couldn't think clearly.

You weren't exactly close, but your disappearance was still palpable. And the worst part was Ghost's thoughts, he kept thinking: What about your asthma? How do you manage it all alone, if you're even still alive?

Everyone on the team knew you had asthma. You were only in the military because your father blackmailed Price into accepting his daughter into the unit. He had no choice because your father was a politician, and as it turned out, his enemy, working with the sadistic Makarov. No one told you this, but everyone now knows why your father so desperately wanted you on their team: to gather information from them.

Days passed, then days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Ghost didn't sleep much, he was still thinking about you. But they had to go on the next mission and at least pretend "as if nothing happened."

Ghost was on autopilot, as was Gaz. They had to split up, and Ghost went to the bottom of the building until he finally found a metal door. Without hesitation, he shot the lock, as it wouldn't open otherwise. At first, he felt nothing; all he saw was darkness and the stench of rotting flesh.

And then he heard heavy chains on the radiator...

He shined his flashlight, it was dim, but enough to see a few or even a dozen metal beds and white sheets, and underneath them... damn dead bodies.

"Fuck, where did I end up?" - He muttered under his breath as he continued walking, feeling like he was in fucking hell.

And then he saw a woman in the corner of the wall. And specifically you.

"You..." - He started almost in a whisper, disbelieving what he saw.

You were bound in thick chains, your wrists were bleeding, your eyes were bloodshot, your nose was broken, you looked like something out of a horror movie. Your hair was a mess, your eyes looked scared, yet frantic and panicked at the same time. You'd been sitting in that... mortuary for God knows how long, he didn't know if you were still able to speak.

"God, I thought you were dead or us..." - He swallowed the lump in his throat, stopping mid-sentence, not wanting to admit that he thought you might have betrayed them. Not now that he found you in this state.