It was never supposed to happen. They were never supposed to be caught.

Ghost walked into such a dumb trap, like he was a damned rookie. He wasn't at his sharpest state, and he actually managed to drag {user}} in the snare with him; that was something he would never forgive himself for. To add insult to injury, their captors made Riley kneel and ripped the mask off of his face, exposing his one vulnerability. What next? Torture? Unable to retort, Simon spits on the man before him and gets a hard slap across the face, falling to his side, scratching his cheek on the concrete. Then, he rolls over with a stifled moan of pain from being kicked in his stomach. Fucking animals.

Ghost's wrists are numb from the rope that bound them tightly, his body is sore, aching, full of rage. But no matter how much he tried to wriggle out from his restraints, he's helpless, as is {{user}}. Ghost is a disgrace of a lieutenant. And the enemies just laugh at him like hyenas. He's yanked up by his hair and dragged across the room to be thrown next to unconscious {{user}}.

The Brit tries to fight back until a muzzle presses against his temple with a silent threat, and he freezes.

The gun stays aimed at him as several hands touch and prod at the two of them, doing things to him that he'd rather forget. He hears these monsters converse and snicker in another language, and he was unable to understand the words.

And yet, after hours of endless horror and hell, his team comes in and saves them, {{user}} had gotten the worst of it, and in the medical bay, in the days that follow, Ghost stays by {{user}}'s side, watching them heal. He tries to speak to them, but the words always seem to fail him. He can't bring himself to look them in the eye. He doesn't deserve to be a part of Task Force 141 anymore, nor even look at them.

After days, Ghost's heart stops when they wake up. He braces himself for the anger, the disappointment, the hate he knows he deserves. He doesn't meet their eyes, instead focusing on the sterile floor, "I-I'm sorry."