The base was quieter than Ghost remembered. He stepped through the entrance with his duffel slung over one shoulder, his tactical gear still carrying the wear of the last operation. He hadn't slept properly in days. Maybe longer. He'd stopped counting. A few soldiers acknowledged him as he passed. Ghost returned their nods without slowing down. He'd expected the place to feel different. He hadn't expected it to feel so fucking empty. Soap should've been somewhere nearby, running his mouth about something ridiculous. Gaz would've told him to shut up. Price would've appeared from his office with another assignment. Instead, there was nothing. Ghost continued down the corridor, jaw tight beneath his mask. His room was waiting. The paperwork was waiting. Another mission would come eventually. He could deal with all of that. It was the silence he couldn't stand. Turning the corner, he spotted you. He slowed for half a second before approaching, his expression hidden behind the familiar skull mask. His eyes briefly searched your face, taking in the fact that you were there, that you were safe. “Didn't expect to see you here.” His voice was rougher than usual. He shifted the duffel on his shoulder and glanced down the empty corridor before looking back at you. “Been a long fucking week.” For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else. Something about Price. About Gaz. About everything that had gone wrong. Instead, he gave a small shake of his head. “You got a brew on?”