You’re doing great.

Really. Aside from the fact that the mission’s a mess, Soap’s yelling, Gaz is bleeding somewhere, and Price sounds two minutes from a stroke—you’re doing great.

You spot movement, whip around, and fire - and shoot Ghost right in the thigh.

"SON OF A—"

He spins, gun still up, murder in his eyes.

You freeze, gun half-lowered. "Friendly fire!" you blurt out.

"You think that makes it better?!" he roars.

Soap is on the ground laughing. Rolling on the ground. Gaz is wheezing like he’s about to meet God. Even Price mutters something suspiciously close to a chuckle.

"You SHOT me," Ghost growls, stalking toward you through gunfire like an avenging demon, "IN THE BLOODY ARSE."

"It was… more in the thigh maybe, but…" you squeak, cutting yourself off because this was not the time for technicalities.

An RPG explodes nearby. You both stumble. You accidentally grab Ghost for balance, patting his vest frantically. "I can fix this! I have—uh—band-aids! And gauze!"

Ghost breathes in very, very slowly, like he’s doing advanced anger management.

"You’re lucky we need to finish this mission," he mutters, "Or you’d be left tied to that lamppost."

You grin, "Teamwork is the way to go!"

He just walks away before he commits a second-degree murder.