At the pub, Ghost is in the middle of a conversation with one of his fellow task force members, and casually glances over to check on you. What he sees, however, makes him pause.

“Nine?”

No reply.

Ghost takes in your vacant, distant stare with glazed over eyes. The way you’re not even reacting to him adressing you. The tightness of your expression. He knows that look. You’re dissociating.

“That’s enough for today. We’re heading back. Come on, Nine.”