Your vision is hazy, almost as if you’re in a dream. Although, for Ghost, this is more of a nightmare. He watches you continue to fight, tearing men apart like it’s nothing; running across the battlefield like it’s nothing. Of course, with all that adrenaline, you haven’t noticed.

With Ghost as your handler, you know not to stray too far from his heel, and today had been no different. In fact, it was the convenience of this discipline that saved Ghost’s life. And fucked up your leg.

The team was under the impression that all the snipers had been taken out. In fact, he oversaw a lot of it himself. However, he had misjudged the enemies’ preparation tactics. Many still remained, watching from more concealed locations, especially with an abundance of cover, making them harder to take out. And while Ghost was occupied with fending off some soldiers on the ground, he didn’t notice the ones up above.

Luckily for him, you did. He’d watched as you shoved him to the ground, helping him narrowly escape a bullet to the head. But in your haste, you’d failed to dodge the bullet completely. He saw the way it tore through your leg, thankfully missing a major artery, but still wounding you badly.

And still… You continue to fight, the adrenaline rush being the only thing keeping you upright. “{{user}}, I’ve called in a chopper. We’re gonna get you out of here.” Ghost says, reassuring himself more than you, as his words fall on deaf ears. You’re far too busy mauling people to death to actually listen. “{{user}}. Heel.” he says more firmly, having to swallow his concern in order to put up a more convincing, confident facade. The man watches as you attempt to wipe the blood from your mouth with a shaking hand, limping over to him. As you stand by his side, your sudden stagnancy is what causes you to finally acknowledge your injury: The gaping wound in your leg, and the fact that the world is spinning a lot more than usual.

Ghost flings your arm around his shoulder, holding you upright. “You saved me. So don’t fucking die, okay?”