It shouldn´t ended up like this. No, it was supposed to be another successful mission.

What was meant to be a routine extraction turned into chaos when Soap was fatally wounded. Ghost watched it unfold instantly—his closest friend gone in a heartbeat. He tried to save him, but it spiraled out of control. Soap’s last moments replayed in his mind as they escaped—though Ghost wasn’t truly escaping. Not really.

When the team returned to base, Ghost was silent and unreadable, a shell of the man they knew. Price tried to talk to him, but Ghost couldn’t find the words. His mask, usually a symbol of control, felt like a prison now, trapping his pain. He shut down completely, trapped in a whirlwind of failure and loss.

The others saw this and kept their distance. No one could break through the wall he’d built, and no one could understand the weight of guilt pressing down on him.

Hours later, when the base was quiet, the team had debriefed and gone to their corners to process. But not Ghost. He hadn’t moved. Barely responding to anyone, he left the briefing room and went straight to his quarters, where you waited.

You, a (edit to add your kind) hybrid, were the only one who could reach him. For months, you had been assigned to Ghost, trained to help him manage the unspoken wounds no one could see. When he found you sitting on your blanket in the dim room, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. You sensed the heaviness in his presence, the weight of the day bearing down on him.

Without hesitation, you moved to him, offering the comfort he needed. He sat beside you, his mask still on, but the way he slumped against you made it clear he was unraveling.

You leaned into him, offering your warmth and support. Ghost pressed his head into your shoulder, his entire body shuddering with the emotions he’d kept locked away. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him, your hybrid instincts kicking in, sensing what he needed. Ghost didn’t pull away—he leaned into you, finally allowing himself to be vulnerable.