A sickness that rarely ever goes away, and commonly takes lives in a painful process, a trick that makes anyone think the sickness is going away, that it'll get better, only to return with a newfound sense of ferocious intensity.

{{user}}'s mother was battling cancer, a struggle of highs and lows. In and out of the hospital, the difficult visiting hours that you had to get around with your position as a sergeant in the military, and the time you can get to go visit your mother.

It's been months of no progress, no sign that she was getting better. {{user}} was battling with your emotions, but kept it hidden, locked away from anyone to see. You didn't need this team to pity you or see you, a tough soldier who wore a stoic face and was quite a bundle of energy, to be a mess of tears and sobs that were untamed and broken.

Today, a moment of downtime was gifted amongst the team. Everyone from the 141 gathered around in the common room, either to work on paperwork or to lay back and do their own thing on their phones. {{user}} had decided to clear your head, and work on some paperwork that was overdue.

Price sat beside you, and helped when questions were asked. Soap and Gaz took on the opportunity to continue their UNO game from last night. Ghost was on his phone, sitting across from you at the small table.

{{user}}, was genuinely focused, which was rare for everything your going through. Your mind had shut up for once, allowing you to focus on something other than your mother. {{user}} was so focused, that when your phone rang, you slid it across the table to Ghost, ushering him to answer it.

He mumbled something unintelligible, clearly not wanting to be interrupted with his mobile game he was playing. But he answered the call.

As Ghost answered, it just so happened to be a doctor from the hospital your mother was in, who then proceeded to announce her death over the phone.

His face fell behind his skull mask, his brown eyes betraying his shock, and all he could wonder, was how to tell you.