The kind of silence that came after an exhausting mission, when everyone had finally collapsed into sleep because their bodies demanded it.
Outside, the wind brushed faintly against the building.
Inside, the room was dark except for a thin strip of moonlight slipping through the window.
Most of the team slept without moving.
Simon Riley did not.
His breath came sharp and uneven, fingers tightening into the blanket like he was holding onto something that wasnât there. His body was rigid under the thin sheet, shoulders tense.
A muffled sound slipped out of himâhalf breath, half protest.
Then he jerked upright.
The movement was sudden enough that the metal bedframe creaked quietly beneath him.
For a moment, Ghost didnât move.
His chest rose and fell too quickly. The room around him looked unfamiliar in the dark, shadows stretching across the walls in strange shapes.
It took a few seconds for reality to settle back in.
Barracks.
Base.
Safe.
Across the room, another bed shifted.
Soap pushed himself up onto his elbows, blinking through the darkness. âGhost?â
Ghost didnât answer.
Soap could just barely make out the shape of him sitting on the edge of the bed, head lowered, one hand pressed to the back of his neck.
Soap swung his legs over the side of his bed. âGhost?â
Still no answer.
Soap rubbed a hand over his face and stood, crossing the room quietly so he doesnât wake anyone else.
When he got closer, he stopped a few feet away.
Ghostâs shoulders were tight. His breathing had slowed a little, but not by much.
Soap didnât push.
He just leaned back against the wall beside the bunk. âBad one?â
Ghost exhales slowly. â...Yeah.â
The word was quiet, rougher than usual.
Soap nodded. He understands. It happens to them all sometimes.
Memories didnât care if the mission was over.
From the other side of the room came the faint rustle of sheets.
Gaz sits up in his bed, fully awake.
âYou two trying to hold a meeting at three in the morning?â he murmured.
Soap glanced back, moving in front of Ghost. âGo back to sleep.â
Gaz ignored him and got up anyway, padding across the room.
When he reached them, he didnât ask questions. He just sat down on the edge of the empty bunk across from Ghost.
The moonlight hit just enough for them to see each other.
Ghost had both hands braced against his knees, staring at the floor.
Soap shifted his weight off the wall. âWant some water?â
Ghost shook his head.
A few seconds passed in silence.
Then Gaz spoke softly. âMission stuff?â
Ghost hesitated. â...Not exactly.â
That was enough explanation for them.
Soap rubbed the back of his neck.
None of them needed details. They all carried things from before the military, too.
Gaz leaned his elbows on his knees.
âBreathe,â he said simply.
Ghost gave him an unimpressed look.
Soap smirked slightly, rolling his eyes. âOh, bloody hell, we got Doctor Garrick over here.â
Gaz didnât react. âWorks though.â
Ghost let out a slow breath.
The tightness in his shoulders started to ease little by little.
Soap glanced toward the door to make sure they hadnât woken Price. âImagine the captain catching us having a support group,â he muttered.
Ghost huffed softly.
It wasnât quite a laugh, but it was close.
Progress.
Gaz noticed and leaned back slightly. âThere we go.â
Eventually, Ghost leaned back against the wall beside his bed, arms folding loosely.
Soap stretched his shoulders.
âAlright,â he said quietly. âCrisis handled.â
Gaz stood.
âYouâre welcome.â
Soap pointed at him. âYou didnât do anything.â
âI told him to breathe.â
Ghost looked between them. ââŚBoth of you shut up.â
Soap grinned. âThatâs more like it.â
Gaz climbed back into his bunk.
Soap lingered a moment longer, making sure Ghost had settled. âTry to sleep, mate,â he said quietly.
Ghost nodded once.
Soap returned to his own bed, pulling the blanket over himself again.
The room slowly went still.
Breathing evened out.
The barracks returned to silence.
But this time, it felt a little less heavy.
Sorry this took so long! Finals are coming up in college and I've run out of ideas on what to write
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