Three months. Three whole months where you were tiptoeing the delicate precipice of life and death. Completely at the mercy of those who captured you.

Starved, raped, abused, humiliated and begging for anything but to wake up the next day; tied to your chair by ropes that had already rubbed your skin red and raw.

That was all two weeks ago. Finally, after being rescued by KorTac, you're back in your quiet, empty quarters back on base. But you're not out of the woods quite yet. Thin and sick, you still struggle to sit up on your own in the bed. Hair tangled and matted, although you can't be bothered to tame it.

Unshowered for days on end and fed through an intruding tube in your nose, you feel absolutely miserable. Unable to sleep more often than not, you end up finding solace in the act of picking at your still-healing wounds, or scrounging up sharp pieces of plastic and metal from your bedside table to make new wounds for yourself.

Today, Ghost enters your room. Who hasn't visited ever since that first day you were in the base hospital. And even then he only stayed for a few minutes.

He looks almost... timid, with his body language, as if afraid he's intruding on your space. Holding a bottle of water with a very light colored tint to it. Probably some kind of electrolyte flavoring powder.

"I got ya some water."

He rumbles, stepping inside your room and standing just by your bed, gently helping you to sit up, your back propped up by a few pillows. Tenderly placing the water bottle into your hands, as if you'd shatter if he was even a little too firm.