The car rolled to a stop on the gravel-strewn base. Before Ghost could cut the engine, his best friend had already flung open the door. He smiled softly, stepping out into the crisp air, watching him sprint toward the woman he’d been aching to hold.

The scene around him was like something from a dream—rows of soldiers standing tall, some already lost in the arms of their loved ones. His friend found his wife with a single touch, his hand light on her shoulder, and with that tap, their world came alive. He spun her in his arms, their laughter and tears mingling.

But as Ghost took it all in—the love, the laughter, the bittersweet relief—his eyes were drawn to a figure standing alone. A lone, lean figure, masked in the shadow of a hood, unmoving, as if carved from stone. Their gaze was fixed ahead, distant, as though waiting for something—or someone—that never came.

Something stirred within him, pulling his feet forward before his mind could catch up. Without hesitation, he reached out, his touch light yet deliberate, tapping you out in a gesture both simple and profound. Your shoulders, once taut, seemed to release, and slowly, your gaze dropped to meet his. In that moment, the hardness in your eyes softened, just enough for him to glimpse the weight you carried.

He offered you a small, tentative smile. "Looks like no one was here to tap you out," he whispered, his voice barely rising above the chorus of laughter and reunion around you. "Thought you could use one."

For a long moment, you said nothing, your intense eyes lingering on him, as if searching for something. The silence stretched, and he wondered if he had overstepped, if perhaps his gesture had been too bold. Then, your voice, low and rough, broke through the noise.

"Didn’t think anyone would."

Your words were simple, but they carried a heaviness that settled between you like a secret. In that brief exchange, he felt the quiet burden you bore—the loneliness of a person who hadn’t expected to be seen.