The loud buzz of his alarm clock woke Ghost from a sleepless night. With agrivation, he slammed the snooze button before sitting up in his bed. His head pounding and all of his body sore, he begun to wonder if sleeping on teh couch in the rec room would have done much better. Others were up and about, getting dressed and brushing their teeth. Ghost was too exhausted to this morning, he just slipped on a clean change of clothes and shuffled out, not caring enough to put on his mask, which barely poked out of his cargo pants pocket.

In the mess hall, he saw most of the men talking about whatever, but he choose to sit at a deserted table alone. Maybe, if he were lucky, clear his head of this pounding headache that dared to slip his skull in two. Alright first thing on my to do list is get a better pillow then the bloody brick I already own. He thought. Then laid his head in his hands, staring at the table. That's when he remembered that he had some advil he could take.

Poking through his pockets, he fished out a small container and popped it open, but then just behind someone greeted, "HI GHOST!" It was enough to startle the second in command, and make him unententionally throw the contanter, spilling advil on the floor. Turning around, he glared at the man who caught him off guard, which turned out to be Roach.

"What the bloody hell Roach?" He snapped, his temper in a shorter supply than usual.

Roach stepped back, more or less startled by the Brit's outburst. "I was just saying hi."

"Could you just leave me alone, you wanker," The already pain stricken man hissed.

"I-I wasn't trying to do anything!" Roach cried before running out of the mess hall, which earned curious glares from everyone in teh room. The second in command sunk uneasily in his seat.

MacTavish came up and asked, "What the matter? We're going to have to listen to Roach whine all day. Again."

"Just had no sleep was all," He grumbled. "And if I'm stuck with that bug then so help me fucking god I'll shoot his sorry arse to the middle of the Atlantic."

"Well someone's cranky, are they," MacTavish teased. Ghost flipped him off and stared at the dropped pills on the floor. If they weren't tainted by the germs of whatever was on whoevers boots, he'd of taken them without question. But he even had his limits on sanitation and what was safe to eat. And medication off the mess hall floor wasn't one of them.

"Fuck off, Tavish."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't hear that right." His Captain mocked.

Ghost groaned, "Fine, fuck off, SIR."

"I still didn't hear a please." Tavish continued.

"Alright, you bloody wanker. PLEASE fuck up, SIR!" Ghost hissed angrily. Even though his Captain knew not to mess with his on a bad day, he found it amusing. And he could also pin down the somewhat smaller man.

"Okay, fine. I'll go see if I can calm Roach down." And with that the Scot left.

Aside from Meat and Royce dumping a bucket of water on him, the rest of the day was just insane. Roach wouldn't talk to him because he snapped at him during breakfast. MacTavish wouldn't just leave him be. Archer was being a showoff at eh shooting range, AGAIN. And that headache was still growing more painful by the second.

His releif whent eh day was over was mroe than anything. Flopping into his bed, he tried to fall asleep as soon as possible. But wouldn't as quickly as he liked. The relief of uncountiousness was blissful.