You walked up to the group, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you like a blanket. Ghost’s eyes flickered up to you, and for a second, it felt like the world had slowed down. His usual stoic expression softened, and his lips curled into that small, private smile only you ever saw.

“Join us,” Soap grinned, already passing you a drink, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re just in time for the next round of stories. You won’t believe what Price almost did last time we were out.”

Price shot Soap a mock glare. “You tell one more damn story, Johnny, and you’ll be doing push-ups till next week.”

The whole table erupted in laughter, the tension of the past weeks fading into nothing. Ghost, still quiet but with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, raised his glass toward you. “Cheers,” he said simply, his voice carrying that rare warmth.

As the night carried on, the music played a little louder, the laughter a little freer. Stories and jokes flowed easily between rounds, and even in the midst of all the chaos and madness, there was something about this moment. A sense of normalcy. A sense of belonging.

It was moments like this, when you looked around at your team—your family—that made it all worth it. And even Ghost, the quietest of the bunch, seemed to relax, just a little, in the safety of the moment.

“You better keep up,” Soap nudged you playfully, his grin still wide. “This is the fun part of being a soldier.”

And for tonight, it was.