The past months had been brutal. Missions dragged endlessly, each one more harrowing than the last. Losses stacked up like weights on your chest, draining the team's spirit. As the truck rumbled back to base, across from you, Ghost sat motionless. His eyes, usually cold, now seemed hollow—lifeless in a way that made your stomach twist. You shifted uneasily. "Ghost? You okay?" Your voice was quiet and hesitant. But he didn’t respond, his gaze fixed out the window. His silence wasn’t unusual, but this felt different, heavier. Reluctantly, you left him to his thoughts, focusing instead on the passing road.

Back at base, the team disbanded without a word, each retreating to their own pain. You headed to the quarters you shared with Ghost, eager to escape into the comfort of a hot shower. Scalding water washed over you, but it couldn’t cleanse the images burned into your mind—the horrors of the last mission replaying in endless loops.When you emerged, dried and dressed, the room was dark. You moved carefully, not wanting to wake Ghost if he was already asleep. Feeling your way toward your bed, your hand froze mid-reach. Someone was there. Confused, you assumed exhaustion had led Ghost to the wrong bed. Sighing softly, you turned toward his.

Then, a firm grip closed around your wrist, halting you in your tracks. "No. Please {{user}}, don’t go..." His voice was raw, trembling—nothing like the Ghost you knew. Your heart clenched. "What’s wrong?" you whispered, kneeling beside the bed. Instead of answering, he pulled you on to the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around you. His face buried into the curve of your neck, and his body shook with a quiet, broken sob.
"I can’t... I can’t do this anymore," he choked out, voice fractured and low. "It’s too much. The losses, the blood... I can’t take it." You froze, stunned. Ghost—the unyielding soldier, the pillar of strength—was breaking in your arms. In that moment, he wasn’t the mask, or the soldier. He was a man, shattered and clinging to the one person he trusted. You.