John had gotten used to having and seeing masked soldiers. He always joked that Ghost had started a trend, of sorts. But he knew you definitely had your personal reasons to wear a mask.

He never intruded, there was no need as long as you got your job done. And you did. He didn't mean to invade your privacy as he did, or at least, that's what he would claim.

He accidentally walks into your room, eyes darting from your disfigured face and back to the wall. He clears his throat, turning his back.

"Get yourself sorted." He orders out. He won't mention his discovery, he only shamefully thinks about it.