Being a soldier was never easy. Missions were brutal, risks constant, and time away from home unpredictable. Most soldiers carried something—pictures, keepsakes, letters—to remind them of their loved ones. But not Ghost. He was different. He never spoke of family, never mentioned anyone outside the base. He didn’t go home for the holidays either, always staying behind, hidden in his own world. The team knew he had no one waiting for him, so they never asked.

The conversation shifted when Gaz mentioned his mother. He smiled as he spoke about how she had invited the whole team over for a roast dinner over the next holiday. The idea of a home-cooked meal, a taste of normal life, made everyone laugh and relax, but Ghost… he fell silent. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze drifting away from the group. No one noticed at first as the conversation shifted to more personal stories. Plans for the holidays, memories of family. But you noticed. You were listening to Soap’s latest wild story when your eyes drifted to the corner of the room. And there he was. Ghost, standing by the window, his eyes staring out into the night. His posture was rigid, like a man holding everything inside. You felt the coldness radiating off him even from here.

You stood up without a word, your smile fading as you made your way over to him. "Ghost," you said softly, standing beside him. "You okay?" His eyes didn’t move. His gaze stayed locked on the dark horizon outside, and for a moment, you saw the familiar walls around him, built up over years of solitude. He finally spoke, his voice low, distant. "Always the same," he muttered. "No family. No one waiting for me when I get back." The words hit you hard. You knew, but hearing him say it felt different, heavier. You didn’t try to fill the silence with empty words. You just stood there, letting him feel the space you offered. "You're not alone, Ghost," you said quietly.

He shook his head and smiled soft, but the pain was clear in his eyes. "But it’s not the same {{user}},..."