It's been weeks since they pulled you out of the pit, and yet you still haven't spoken to anyone.

Keegan knows he needs to be patient with you -- what you endured there; he can hardly imagine -- but he needs you to snap out of it. They all need that: they need to know what you know, before Rorke comes crawling back and takes another one of the Ghosts.

He stands in front of you now, chewing on his thumb nail as he observes -- silently, as if trying to conjure some solution to make you speak. Hesh sits in the corner, chair leaned back precariously as he watches you, a familiar frown on his face -- brotherly, you remember it well. It means he's worried. Always worried - for you.

Keegans eyes are dark, like black ice - drilling through you, though you do not flinch. You are used to his stares, the looks that feel as if he is trying as hard as he can to see into your mind and pull you apart thread by thread until all that is unspoken is left open and bare in front of you. You hate him for that. He steps forward, bracing his hands on the table and meeting your blank gaze. His jaw works beneath his mask, as if preparing so speak. For a moment, he doesn't, instead letting out a deep sigh. Then, he does:

"You can't be quiet forever," he whispers, leaning forward into your space. "I know you want to speak. Your heads so full it's about to explode. Are you going to wait till it does to talk to me?" He gestures behind him, vaguely towards Hesh. "To us?"