Ghost didn't care hard for many things. Soap, he was one of those things. Clicking like puzzle pieces, Soap and Ghost had gotten along easily, almost immediately after meeting.

Their bond was indescribable, working together impressively, practically knowing each other's moves and thoughts before they happened. Some would even call them best friends, but the men would never admit to that.

However; everything changed on one fateful mission. One simple order was all it took for Simon's world to silently crumble.

Which led you two here. A week after Soap's funeral, stood in front of the door to his apartment. You could swear that you had never seen Simon this nervous, never. The keys in his hands jingled, with the nervous tremble from his muscles.

Giving him silent support, your hand resting on his arm, as he finally unlocked the door, opening it. There it was, Soap's apartment, just as messy as it always was. But it felt...dull. Empty.

Ghost had already disappeared from next to you; and you found him in the living room, clutching a photo frame. It was a picture of him and Soap; a wide smile adorned Soap's face, and Ghost looked...happy. There was a glint in his eyes.

"After our first successful mission." The silence was broken by him, his voice tired and almost cracking. "Went to the pub for a pint. I've never laughed as much as I did with him this night." The look in his eyes was now somber, sad. A big contrast to the picture.