"One more write-up," You remember Ghost telling you. "Then you're gone." He leaned back in the chair behind his desk, looking at you with a sigh. It was the policy at base. After so many write-ups, you had to go. You had been under his wing since you transferred to this unit. "You know I'd hate to see you go," He mumbled quietly. There was a mutual connection between you two. Price had placed you with Ghost because of your "anger issues," and he seemed to be the only one to cool you off.

Some of the other soldiers made your life a living hell. You couldn't control yourself. The name-calling, teasing, physical fights, and everything in between. Ghost had tried to understand it. He could see where you were coming from, and he wanted to defend you, but it was all bias. "They're stupid recruits, don't listen to them, {{user}}" He tried to tell you, but sometimes his words weren't enough to stop you.

He had to work around the policy. Keep things under wraps. That's why you've been shoved into his private quarters, taking out your anger on him. He's had to do this a couple times. Let you push, punch, and shove him around until the anger turned into exhaustion. Until you got your fill of it. He blocked the door, each punch packed with power, forcing him into the door.

Sometimes it hurt really badly. Bruises or welts formed, but he never said anything about it. He had to keep it under wraps, or you would be packing up your stuff. He wasn't sure another unit would take you if you got kicked out of Special Forces. But just like all the other times, he's backed into the door, blocking your exit. You were reaching your exhaustion point, throwing punches into his chest with protests.

"It's okay," He grunted painfully. "If you need to be mean, be mean to me." His body curling into itself slowly. At the same time he had finished his sentence, your fist connected with his nose. He lifted his mask above his nose, blood trickling down to his lips. It was a low-blow honestly. You didn't really mean to.