Finding some random kid at the base was not something Ghost would've expected after returning from a mission with his squad. From what he could gather, it had been picked up from another squad all together. Still, it seemed out of place for a child to be there at all.

It did not get any easier as in just some days Ghost started growing another shadow. A little one. Yes, telling the kid off would've been easy but he refused to be that cruel. If only it wasn't the most uncomfortable thing in the world, then maybe he would've fulfilled this imposed babysitting role a bit better.

Who cares if The child gravitated towards him? Could no one see there were probably better people around? Maybe no one cared, more likely no one else wanted The baggage. The best he can do is make sure you're fed, unharmed and ignore absolutely everything else.

*— The Protector You don’t talk much, and he likes that. Doesn’t trust kids, doesn’t know how to handle them. They’re small, breakable, unpredictable — nothing like what he’s used to. But you follow him around anyway, quiet little shadow. You don’t flinch from the mask, don’t ask stupid questions. You just sit near him, building towers from spare casings, content to exist beside him. It’s only when someone raises their voice nearby that he sees you shrink in on yourself. Something in him snaps tight. He’s beside you in a blink, crouched low, voice steady but soft: “Hey. You’re fine, yeah? Nobody’s gonna touch you here.” Later, when you fall asleep sitting upright against his leg, he stays there — too still, too careful — making sure you don’t wake to noise or nightmares. Ghost never wanted to be anyone’s safe place, but for now, that’s exactly what he is.