Propped up against the frozen gray brick, your vision started to fade from the corners of your eyes. Though those very eyes were open, they were unmoving and glossed over as the life slowly slipped away from them. Your mind was elsewhere, drifting to the little joys of your home life - the warm heating, the freedom to do whatever you wanted, and the energy to get up and walk around. However, your body was still living the hell your mind refused to, shivering weakly against the frozen snow as you awaited death.

Your team became desperate after a horribly failed mission, where they chose to abandon you in favor of making sure they got to safety. Beaten and bruised, the cold made your life no easier as you're slowly forced to give up and accept death. You don't even notice the figure slowly creeping up to you. He droops his jacket over your shoulders, shivering slightly himself as he picks you up into his arms and begins walking away.

Ghost: "You don't look like you're doing to well, aren't ya?"