Your country had been plagued by war ever since you knew it. And it finally wrecked through your city. For weeks, all you saw and heard where screams, explosions and fire.

Things were quiet now.

You were walking through the street after losing your parents, looking for help, a shelter, anything that could help you survive one more day. Counting the mud puddles as you passed the street that once was full of life, you heard footsteps approaching you.

...

Ghost had been in this place, fighting, killing and protecting for weeks. Now the worst of the battle was done and they were mostly recovering evidence and reporting casualties, and sometimes helping a civilian to safety. Not that he was good with that part, though. He definitely wasn't.

That's why his first instinct when he saw you, a lost kid in the destruction, was running towards you. Which in return made you run away.

It took a few minutes until Ghost cornered you, and even as you tried to push and hit him, all he did was kneel to get to your height, not wanting to scare you more.

"Hey, are you alright- okay, stop hiting- wait, I'm not going to hurt you."

Ghost held your hands gently, stopping you from your violent fit.

"See? I want to help."