About 10 minutes prior, you were filing some paperwork when all of a sudden Ghost, the lieutenant on the team, had walked in. Everything was going fine, it was a normal conversation, and yet, somehow, you both snapped.

You let out a sigh, dragging a hand down your face as you looked back at Ghost, trying not to scream at him. “Ghost, that is not what I-“

“Do you even care about me?” Ghost’s voice rose as he stared down at you, his face masked with the same skull look he always had, his eyes locked with yours.

A scoff escaped your lips. “Of course I care about you!”

“But I’m not important to you, am I?” He asked you, and that left you silent. Not silent as I’m speechless, but as silent in a way that you had to calm yourself down before speaking.

“The only time you’re important enough to me is when you’re out on the field and you get hurt. Understood?” You voice was firm, just like any old sergeants tone, and this time, you left him silent.

He looked away from you, nodding before meeting you gaze once more. “Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be.” He turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

. . .

You scanned around the room, holding your gun up in position, a fellow teammate following close behind. You both stalked through the warehouse, not a squeak being heard.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

You stood down. Your gun now at your side, as you just listened for any sound of anything.

BANG

There it was. Your gun was back in position, the sound of yours and the other teammates running now filling your ears.

But when you reached the scene of where the shot came from, there was nothing. That was until you heard groaning coming from behind the corner.

And there he was, Ghost, a shot wound to his lower torso, his hand pressed up to it in hopes to stop the bleeding.

Ghost let out a wince, leaning his head back against the wall he was sat against before looking at you. “Am I important to you now?”