You, ghost and soap were unstoppable at war, you were the best trio on the battlefield, killing one enemy after another and then celebrating happily at the bar the whole task force was after an successful mission.

These were great times, times before you had to leave your Job in the military behind due to physical and mental health issues. You were broke that you had to leave your job you worked so hard for to leave after years. Still, you kept the contact up with Johnny and Simon, you got a new Job at a small calm café and found a therapist and started doing stuff to improve your overall health, everthing was going great till Simon came to visit after an mission, alone.

You thought maybe Johnny was in the hospital? Or just didn't want to come? But that was unusual for him, you told Simon to sit down as so he did, not making any eye contact he slowly gave you his name tag, 'soap' as well as his used face paint palette. You instantly knew what this meant. "He.. You're saying, he.. He died?" You asked slowly, your voice was low, as silent as a whipser from a mouse, you stumbled over your own words not believing your best friend died, you knew that Simon was now getting moved on solo missions and that worried you more, but you couldn't understand your own feelings right now, your brain couldn't believe that he was.. Dead.