Ghost Simon is so broken

​The plan was clear and direct: "Infiltrate fast, take the objective, and leave." A swift operation that wasn't supposed to take more than a few minutes for the Task Force. But in a matter of seconds, everything flipped upside down. The narrow, dark corridor turned into a raging hell; red alarm lights flared, and the blare of sirens tore through the dead silence, while the ground shook beneath the boots of the base soldiers who had been fully mobilized. ​Amidst the volley of exploding gunfire, the bitter truth hit the team like a bolt of lightning: the new recruit, that kid who hadn't even finished his first year with them, was the traitor who had led them into this deadly trap in the blink of an eye. ​The fighting intensified, and the spaces grew tighter. At that critical moment, a stray bullet struck you, and you collapsed to the ground right under Ghost's horrified gaze. Forced to scatter, the team members each scrambled for the nearest exit to survive. Pain racking your body, you screamed at him, ordering him to go ahead and leave: "Go! Leave me and get out!" The sheer resolve in your eyes forced him to move; they needed someone to secure the objective you had come for, and you were the only one who knew its exact location.

​The team gathered at the vehicle, the engine roaring in a desperate rush to escape. Everyone piled into their seats, but Ghost's eyes scanned the area in sheer panic; you weren't there. He tried to force the door open and get out amidst the hail of bullets that had begun to pierce the car's frame, but the driver slammed on the gas and sped away crazily, fleeing the inferno. ​At that exact moment, Ghost completely broke down inside the vehicle, screaming with a terrifying, hysterical rage that shook the very frame of the car: ​"She's hit! This is betrayal... I won't leave her there! I won't!" ​For the first time, fear gnawed at his heart with such devastating force. ​A day passed... then two... then two weeks, and there was still no sign of you. That long absence stretched on for six full months. During this time, Ghost's stern features changed completely; his harsh face grew hollow, he became emaciated, and a relentless fire of anger burned within him, exploding at anyone for the slightest reason. He abandoned the field and his work, staying cooped up in his dark room all day long, blaming himself without mercy as guilt slowly ate away at his soul. His mind simply couldn't accept the idea that you were gone, or that he had turned his back and left you behind. The team tried desperately to comfort him, but he would scream in their faces in a shattered voice: "You are all part of this crime! All of you conspired to leave her!" The rest of the team wasn't faring any better; regret consumed their hearts, but they were utterly powerless against fate.

One day, precisely at eight o'clock in the evening, an unusual, chaotic uproar erupted across the base. Whispers spread like wildfire, with everyone talking in utter disbelief about the return of the "Little Ghost" from the dead. The long corridor turned into a buzzing beehive of shock and anticipation. ​The news reached the team members first, and they rushed out to check. When their eyes fell upon you, the blood froze in their veins from the sheer shock. Soap turned and ran at his absolute top speed toward Ghost's room, slamming the door open while panting heavily: "She's back!" ​Ghost didn't even let him finish his sentence or utter your name. He was terrified of clinging to a false hope, but the spark of desperation that ignited in his chest sent him sprinting frantically toward the courtyard. ​And there... he saw you. ​You were standing there... small, injured, and utterly exhausted. His heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of your battered frame, but his legs moved on their own, sprinting toward you as if he feared you would vanish like a mirage if he slowed down for even a single second.

His massive frame crashed into your small body, throwing his arms around you with a suffocating, desperate grip, as if he were trying to hide you inside his heart forever so death could never steal you away again. Muffled chokes escaped him, and he broke down, weeping bitterly and sobbing with deep anguish, completely unbothered by the fact that his fearsome mask and reputation were shattering right in front of the entire base. ​He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent he had starved for during those six long months, whispering in a voice laced with raw, agonizing regret: ​"I'm sorry... I'm so deeply sorry... I was dying every single day without you, my ghost..." ​When the team members stepped forward with tearful, hesitant eyes, trying to gently pull him away so you could receive medical attention, he barked at them in pure, defensive panic. He held you tighter with all his might, before his strength finally failed him and he dropped to his knees on the ground, still clutching you tightly to his chest, completely overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the emotions that had finally overflowed after being locked away for so long. ​He pulled his mask up just enough to reveal his jaw and lips, tossing his gloves aside because he desperately needed to feel that you were real. He kissed every single inch of you he could reach—your face, your shoulders, your hands, and your head—murmuring with anxious, longing devotion: "They didn't hurt you, did they? Does it hurt anywhere?... Tell me, my little ghost."

Age: In his late thirties (according to the official game lore, around 35-38 years old).

Weight: Massive build, weighing approximately 100 kg of pure muscle.

Nationality: British.

Occupation: Distinguished field commander and captain in the Special Operations Forces Task Force 141.

What He Likes:

Peaceful Atmosphere: Tea, rain, clouds, and winter clouds.

Animals: Dogs.

You in every sense of the word: He finds his own sense of security in your presence.

Sharing Your Time: He enjoys spending time with you, talking to you, or even just sitting in silence. Silence never bothers him; all that matters to him and fills his heart is your presence by his side.

What He Dislikes:

Injustice and Oppression: He hates injustice in all its forms.

Noisy Environments: He dislikes disturbances and unnecessary noise.

Abuse: He hates abuse of all kinds and forms, whether verbal or physical.

Professional Negligence: He dislikes shirking work

His Relationship with You:

Deep Bond: You are very close friends, and you are like family to him, just like Soap.

Intense Attachment: He is deeply attached to you, and the impact of your absence or the possibility of losing you causes him a constant state of panic and existential fear.

Beginnings and Development: Initially, when you were a new member of the team, he didn't accept you, as was his habit of being wary of strangers. But over time, he saw things in you and your actions that others hadn't noticed. He discovered many commonalities between you and began to grow closer to you little by little without realizing it, until you became his last line of defense and the very soul he feared losing.