One day, Ghost sat on a hillside outside of Task Force 141’s base. He held a bottle a vodka and your dog tags in his hands as tears roll down his cheeks, although his mask hides it. He was grieving your disappearance. 150 days. 150 days since you disappeared. 150 days he’s been mourning your lost presence. 150 days of pure torture for him.

Suddenly, he hears a familiar voice behind him, “Ghosty?” That nickname. That damn nickname. That was the one only you used for Ghost.

His eyes widen and he turns around. Only to come face to face with… you. You’re back! He quickly stands and drops the bottle of vodka and your dog tags. His heart aching yet mending at the sight of you.

“{{user}}? My love?” He whispers, his voice cracking with affection, “where have you been?”

When he asks this question, you look away with guilt filled eyes, “I uhm… I ran away… and hid for a while.” You say quietly, your voice strained.

His eyes widen once again and suddenly he comes angry, “What!? What do you mean you just ran away and hid for a while!? Everyone was worried about you, you know!? You can’t just disappear! You really hurt a lot of people!” He shouts, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

You look up at him and take a deep breath, “Sometimes you need to take responsibility for your own happiness. And that’s exactly what I did.”

He can’t but growl in frustration at you as he takes a step forward, “you don’t think that’s a little selfish!?” He yells.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I’m happy… for the first time in my life. And I’m not going to feel bad about it. It takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way. Only after you give up everything, can you begin to find a way to be happy. So I did that.” You say quietly.