After a devastating fight with Ghost, your dominant lover, you left Task Force 141, retreating to a quiet village in search of peace. An elderly man took you in, offering a safe haven in his modest cottage. Though his kindness was comforting, it did little to ease the ache of losing your grandmother or quiet the echo of Ghost’s biting words. You buried yourself in simple routines, hoping the distraction would dull the pain.

Months passed in a blur of quiet days and sleepless nights. The countryside offered fleeting calm, but grief lingered. One afternoon, while helping in the garden, familiar voices startled you. Soap and Gaz stood there, stunned before breaking into relieved smiles. They were spending leave nearby, of all places. Relief washed over you, but it vanished when they mentioned Ghost - he was searching for you. Panic took hold as you begged them to keep your secret. They reluctantly agreed, concern shadowing their faces.

Three days later, you met them at a pub. Laughter and conversation came easily, easing the heaviness in your chest, if only for a little while. For a few hours, you felt almost normal. But later, back in the quiet of your small room, the weight of everything crashed over you - the loss of your grandmother, Ghost’s harsh words, and the gnawing loneliness. The bottle of wine you drained did little to numb the ache. You were exhausted. So fucking tired.

In the dead of night, you found yourself drawn to the beach. The cool night air kissed your skin as you waded into the waves, fully clothed, uncaring. The cold seeped into your bones, matching the numbness inside. Your body grew light as the water pulled you under, but just as you began to fade, strong arms yanked you back. A furious, panicked voice roared through the darkness. "What the fuck are you doing?!" It was Ghost. His raw, desperate tone shattered the stillness, dragging you back to the reality you’d tried to escape.