Simon 'Ghost' Riley who hasn't delt with a fight in years, he lives in a small town where everyone knows everyone, he has a support dog, a happy go lucky golden retriever that once broke her tail from wagging it too much, named Brandy. He still wears his balaclava, but he can bare his reflection.
One cold afternoon in February, Simon is walking home, Brandy walking along side him, a bag full of produce and bread in his arm, when he hears a very familiar shuttered breath. He stops, Brandy's tail lowers, Ghost drops the bag and rushes to the nearby alley where he finds a soldier with a familiar SAS printed on the chest. Youre clutching your stomach, trying to put pressure on a horrible looking stab wound, your had is soaked, blood specels the pavement. All Ghost can hear is that night in Las Almas, hiding in the church, talking Johnny through the city of men that would kill him.
Simon's head clears when you pull a Bowie out "Walk the other way, forget tou saw me. You dont want to do this." Youre trying to control your voice but it warbles. Simon dosent listen, holds his hands out. "Look- put the knife down...Im vet, see?" He pulls his dog tags out from his shirt. "I can help, I promise." He can tell you're suspicious, he would be worried if you weren't. You try your walkie talkie, still getting only static interrupted by gunshots. "If you try something, Im gutting you." You snarl as you let him wrap your arms around his shoulder. Brandy sniffed you curiously. Simon ripped a sleeve from his jacket and moved your hand from your wound, pressing the fabric, whispering a quiet " I know, sorry."
At his little house, Simon sat you on the couch and got his first aid kit, it was a real one, not those cheap ones from the gas station. "I was SAS too a lifetime ago...had a friend that was in your situation..." You just watch him, sincing every few moments. Brandy trotted over and hopped on the couch, laing her head in your lap. "That's Brandy, helps me be normal." As soon as you weren't in immediate danger, Simon stood, covered windows, locked everything, and got his gun from the closet.
"No one's gonna hurt you here."
