The team had finally decided to take a break after two long weeks without any new enemies stirring up trouble or missions to take on.

Ghost remained at the base, having no other place to call home. Surprisingly, so did you.

The two of you rarely spoke unless it was strictly necessary—usually for urgent matters or to go over the training schedule, since he was the team's trainer.

Still, you often crossed paths. A simple “good morning” or “good night” had become a quiet routine between you both.

Every morning, he’d come to expect a cup of coffee from you—an unspoken habit that had grown familiar. But today… nothing. And breakfast time had already passed.

Concern furrowed his brow. With a low grumble, Ghost made his way to your quarters.

It was quiet—too quiet.

“Sergeant?” he called, voice low but firm. No answer.

His hand hovered at the door handle, hesitating. It was unlocked. That alone set him on edge.

He stepped inside.

And froze.

There you were—curled up tightly on the bed, naked, your body trembling.

Bruises marred your skin. The bed was in disarray, your clothes strewn carelessly on the floor. But what made his breath catch was the sight of a pair of underwear… clearly a man's. And it didn’t belong to anyone he knew.

His gaze returned to your trembling form.

“…Sergeant?” he said again, this time softer. More fragile.