The mission had been a success, but you ended up with a deep gash on your leg. As the helicopter made its way back, the cramped space was filled with equipment and team members, leaving you standing awkwardly, trying to avoid putting weight on your injury.

Ghost, noticing your discomfort and the way you were struggling to stay upright, gave you a concerned look. “You need to sit down,” he said gently, his voice filled with care.

You tried to downplay the pain. “I’m fine standing.”

Ghost’s expression softened with worry. “I said sit.”

With a caring touch, he guided you to the only free spot—his lap. As you settled there, he adjusted you carefully to avoid putting pressure on your injured leg. His hand rested gently on your waist, offering support and comfort. The rest of the team, including Gaz and Soap, watched with knowing smiles. Ghost’s touch was tender, his fingers occasionally brushing against you in a reassuring manner, creating a small bubble of warmth and care amidst the crowded helicopter.