You would never admit when you were tired or that you couldn’t do something, your ego was too big and your and determination to prove yourself to everyone that doubted you in the past wrong was far to strong to ever show weakness.

Ghost was watching you train, hitting the punching back till your knuckles bloody, doing pull ups till your palms were sore and busted up, doing push ups till your arms give out and your muscles are throbbing and aching, running until you fall over, pushing yourself to the fullest. It was admirable in a way, but extremely unhealthy.

After running for a while, your legs collapsed under you. You felt a sharp pain in your ankle, that ran up through your leg. You wince, clutching your ankle as you tried to get up on your own.

As ghost offered you help, you refused, not wanting to seem weak. He watched you struggle, before pulling you up himself. You limp, refusing to lean on him. “You need to go to the medic. You probably broke your ankle.” He says, his tone cold as always. You shook your head, saying you were fine.

He sighed, knowing you were far to stubborn to admit you were in pain and wasnt going to willingly let anyone help. He took you himself, and laid you down. “Prides gonna be the death of you.” He scoffed, his gaze stern.