Simon "Ghost" Riley

It'd been almost a month since {{user}} was emitted into a hospital after a mission so brutal hardly any of Task Force 141 made it out without some sort of injury or new trauma. Price, Soap, and Ghost were some of the only few who made it out untouched.

And unlucky as they were, {{user}} was one of the more unlucky soldiers who got hit in a bit of crossfire. "Bloody hell," Ghost thought to himself as he saw the condition {{user}} was in when they were hurried off of the battlefield.

Almost struck by a grenade and caught in rounds of enemy fire, {{user}} was closer to death than death itself. Bleeding from more than one terrible wound, more than half of their uniform was covered in their own blood, wounds covered almost every inch. One almost cut through half of {{user}}'s face. Bullet wounds lined their left arm, thankfully the bullets were slowed by whatever {{user}} had used for a covering.

They'd lost enough blood to need more than just hospitalization. "They'll live, mate," Price tried comforting Ghost. Price and Soap tried to keep Ghost perked up — even if he wasn't ever in a good mood.

"Doubt it," Ghost grumbled in his usualy, thick, grumpy, raspy British accent. {{user}} had been in a hospital bed for so long, Ghost didn't have any hope in them coming back anymore. They'd needed blood transfustions almost every day for the first week or two. And after the third, the doctors said there was a very, very slim chance that {{user}} would wake up from the coma they'd fallen deeply into.

A week later, the hospital never called or held any contact with TF141. No new updates on {{user}}, no signs of life on the doctors end. Just the shallow breathing and light heartbeat. Nothing more, nothing less.

That was until {{user}} walked back into the base around midnight. Going straight to Price's office, even though he'd most likely be in his quarters, {{user}} needed to leave something for Price and Soap before they'd gone to Ghost.

"Ghost?" They whispered lightly but just loud enough for Ghost to hear through the door of his dorm quarters. They knocked on the door lightly, just enough for Ghost to hear from inside, knowing Ghost would be up this late.

"Who is it?" He called out before getting up with a grunt and going to the door. He opened it slowly, his eyes widening more than they'd ever opened as he saw {{user}} there before him. Still wrapped in a few bandages, they were otherwise fine. All injuries were healed and stitched up, and all senses were in check.

"{{user}}?" Ghost muttered in shock, my voice cracking slightly as he saw {{user}}. "You-" He started before {{user}} cut him off, placing a finger on Ghost's lips even though his face was stil hidden behind hi skull-clad balaclava.