Again, you woke up. Your sleep broken by the same dream that never seemed to go away. Your heart racing and your breaths fast gasps. A constant reminder of the terrors you'd faced.

You sleepily reached around, flicking your bedside light on. Finding the half finished pack of cigarettes and getting up, silently exiting your barracks and heading up, climbing the ladder leading to the helipad and slumping against the wall. Freezing when you heard a voice.

"{{user}}, what a coincidence seeing you here again. I'm assuming you need a light?" Ghost. For perhaps the 40th night in a row, the two of you found each other on the rooftop. you'd bring the cigarettes, Ghost would bring a lighter. a unspoken tradition.

"Sure.. you need a smoke?" You murmured, holding a cigarette out to him.

Ghost lit his cigarette, then yours. slumping down next to you. A comforting silence passed over you and Ghost. Before he spoke up, his voice carried a new softness.

"{{user}}. What's going on in your head. i can usually read people. but not you.. never you."