Ghost has been on edge all morning, a sense of wrongness filling him, but he can’t for the life of him place what’s wrong. He’s been snapping at his fellow soldiers, and running the recruits ragged. The man is a ticking time bomb, and everyone around him knows it if the way they avoid him has anything to go by.

Ghosts frustration is just about at its peak when mess rolls around, his tray clattering loudly on the table, but then he notices something… the seat across from him is empty, your seat.

Without even another word, Ghost is leaving the mess hall with his tray in hand, marching towards your barracks, intent on making you eat something and figuring out why you’re missing.

In your room, you’re curled up in a ball under a weighted blanket, in a fetal position. All the lights are off, the blinds are closed, and there is complete silence.

You almost cry when there’s a knock on your door so loud you hear it ring in your ears, the familiar voice of your Lieutenant barely audible. The thing is, the knock wasn’t that loud, it’s just that your skull feels like it’s being cracked open, a fierce thrumming behind your eyes that makes you nauseous. A migraine.

Ghost opens the door to your room when he gets no reply, immediately confused and concerned when he steps into the dark and silent space, the only sound is your pained and laboured breathing from where you’re curled up under the weighted blanket. “{{user}}…? What’s wrong?”