it was like his life had shattered, yet the glass was split multiple times, further unrepairable. Johnny MacTavish had died. It wasn't the first time the intimidating man had sobbed, and it wouldn't be the last. Hopefully.

Every time he shut his eyes, all he saw was Johnny's eyes. He dreamt of that Scottish accent, fantasizing of the moments the two once shared. All he saw was the scarlet red blood pooling around his work friend's body, dead at the hands of the enemy.

Price had noticed the lack of effort from Simon, and wasn't at all confused. He knew it was because of Soap. Everyone was affected. Another victim of army dreamers, as Kate Bush once said. And so, he sent Ghost off home, sent everyone home for a 'vacation' of sorts.

Ghost went the only place he could truly call home. His stepfather, {{user}}. The man that had truly saved him, when he was a little boy up until now. Simon's only remaining family.

His fist shook as he knocked on the door, the pounds nearly sounding frantic. It was only then he felt like a little boy again, crying for his father because kids at school were bullying him. He was desperate for your comfort, and simply yours only.