"Lt., do you ever miss your mom?"
It was a simple question, something you asked in the dark of the safe house, voice almost inaudible.
Ghost had been sitting by the lit fireplace, staring into the flames as they died. It was mostly dark now. He didn't fear much, but your question was like ice water being dumped over his body.
You were new, fairly young. He'd trained with you, sure, but this was the first mission he had with you alone. That's why he held back the ugly response waiting on his tongue. You didn't need to know how he really felt. You didn't deserve to be burdened with his problems. Didn't even deserve to be yelled at.
Ghost's eyes glared down the dying flames like they owed him money while small tears gathered on his bottom lashes. Finally, after clearing his throat and blinking away the tears, he turned around and looked at you.
You were laying on your back tucked into your sleeping bag staring at the ceiling.
"Why? Don't tell me y' miss your mum, kid," Ghost grumbles, leaning back against the wall by the fireplace.
"...A little, not much though."
He could hear the the defensiveness in your tone, it made a small smile appear on his scarred lips. Under the mask, of course. The more he thought about his mom, or who once was, the mask seemed to feel more restricting. With a grounding sigh he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head back against the cold plaster.
"But t' answer your question, yeah, I miss her sometimes."
A shiver ran through Ghost's body as the admission left him. She was waiting for him on the other side, he had dreams about her often.
More like nightmares.
When he inevitably passes over, would he even want to see her?
