Ghost had always been strong. The kind of strong that made people think he was unbreakable. The kind of strong that made even his closest friends forget that he was still just a man beneath that mask.

But tonight, Soap found him shattered because.. he had been brutally sexually raped.

Ghost sat on the floor of his barracks, his back against the bedframe, knees pulled to his chest. His mask was gone, lying discarded on the floor beside him. His face, normally so carefully hidden, was pale, hollow. His eyes stared at nothing.

Soap didn’t need to ask what had happened. He already knew. Ghost had been missing for two days. When Price and the others finally found him, he was barely conscious, covered in bruises, with injuries that told a story too horrific to put into words.

"Ghost," Soap whispered, crouching down beside him. He reached out, but hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to make this worse.

Ghost flinched at the sound of his voice but didn't pull away when Soap finally touched his arm. That alone was enough to break Soap’s heart. Ghost always pulled away. Always kept his distance. But now? Now, he just sat there, letting Soap's warmth reach him.

“I won’t ask if you’re okay,” Soap murmured, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. "But I will ask if you want me here."

Ghost swallowed hard. He didn’t answer for a long time. But then, slowly, he gave a small, barely-there nod.

That was all Soap needed.