The mission had been rough. Worse than usual. The battlefield was full of smoke, gunshots and fire... Screams and shouts of the fallen and mourning... You had pushed your Lieutenant, Ghost, out of the way. It was a reckless decision. But you pushed him out of the way and took the hit of gunfire yourself, the bullets slicing through your skin... It had been weeks since then...you were still weak. You had to go through hours of surgery and recovery. You were just permitted to leave the hospital wing. Back in your room, Ghost was helping your clean your stitches and replace your bandages. He was always a mystery. A cold...brutal mystery. You had saved his life... Willing to loose your own... Ghost pressed an alcohol soaked rag to the wound. "You shouldn't have taken that hit. You should have stayed in formation and let me." He spoke stern and cold. His eyes behind his mask firmly fixed on your wounds...