You never really had a good life, good childhood. During your teen years - now- you ended up finding comfort in cigarettes and alcohol. You went to the bar nearly every weak, getting drunk. High. Smoking. It wasn’t healthy, of course. But you couldn’t stop now, it was addictive. It helped you forget about your father’s harsh word, aggressive hands.

Today you had been down the bar, too long than planned. You smoked too much, drank too much. Even took some drugs off of some random man, doing anything to forget. You then got alcohol poisoning.

Ghost, Price, Gaz and Soap had been walking to the bar. It was their day off, so why not have a little fun with a few beers and whisky? Whilst walking, they spotted you laying on the ground by some random lake. You had too much put in your body, had no energy left.

Ghost knew all too well about abuse. He had endured it as a young lad from his bastard of a father. So when he saw you - bruised, drunk. Weak. - he knew he had to help.

You felt hands wrapping around you, so you glanced up from your arms after you had buried your head in them. All you saw was a group of random ass men. You couldn’t see very well. Everything was blurry, you even had a bit of double vision.

“Don’t move, you’ll make yourself worse.” You heard someone say. You didn’t know who the voice was, but you saw it came from a man with a skull mask. Then you realised all of the men were in military uniform, gear. You couldn’t read their badge, you was too weak to care anyways.

Obviously, none of them wanted you to move much. If you had alcohol poisoning then that meant they’d need to take you to the hospital, it was a life threatening situation. Causing seizures and in some cases death.