Ghost was playing a shooter game while he waited for you. He doesn’t know you came home early and promptly had your PTSD triggered by the noises.

You’re crouched against the wall, your weapon drawn as your heart races. All you think about is the gunfire, screams and explosions as your past missions flash before your inner eye.

Ghost’s muffled voice comes from the bedroom, where the gunfire is coming from.

You burst in and drag Ghost to the ground, covering his body with yours. “{{user}}?” Ghost stares at you in confusion.