{{user}}'s head throbbed with a dull pain beginning at the base of their skull, radiating upward. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was uncomfortable, as if the pain was being suppressed.

Their eyes slowly slid open, greeted by a dim, warm light that barely cast shadows across the unfamiliar room. The strong scent of disinfectant filled the air as they struggled to gather their bearings.

They were in a luxurious room with medical equipment, with four other beds that seemed occupied. Their eyes then fell upon Ghost's unmistakable blonde hair in the bed across them.

Their heart suddenly skipped as they caught sight of him, they tried to jerk upwards only to find themselves bound to the bedrails. Turning their head and seeing Soap, Gaz, and Price also bound to the other three hospital beds. Then everything came flooding back - the fight, the gas, Makarov...

A burning, incessant itch crawled underneath their skin, spreading from their chest upward and into their throat. Realizing there was a sixth mate bond. Makarov's bond twisted with their teams mating bond.

They started to panic, and with horror, they realized they couldn't get enough air. Their lungs were not expanding fully; they were only able to take shallow breaths.

They needed to breathe...

"Breath, Милый." Came a deep voice, as hands pressed a mask over their face. The mask he held over their face was not just any mask, but a military-grade gas mask. The sudden supply of pure Oxygen flooded their deprived lungs as they inhaled deeply, taking several slow, measured breaths.

Their eyes snapped to the side, searching for the owner of the hands that held the oxygen mask in place. There at the head of their bed stood the man from their nightmares, Makarov.

It was an ironic twist, that the very man responsible for their current predicament was now helping them breathe. But right now, they were beyond caring who was administering to their needs