It wasn’t the first time you, the seventeen year old sniper nicknamed “Snooze,” had fallen asleep on Ghost, and by now, the lieutenant barely reacted. The first time, on a bumpy helicopter ride, Ghost had stiffened but let it slide, too tired to deal with it. The second time, in a safehouse, you had slumped against him mid-meal, and Ghost had grumbled under his breath but didn’t shove you off. By the third time, during a night watch, Ghost didn’t even flinch when your head hit his shoulder again, your soft snores blending with the quiet hum of the wilderness. Now, back on the helicopter after another long mission, you had once again dozed off against Ghost’s side.