"The mission was simple. Parachute in, infiltrate the home of Manuel 'El Gordo' Roba during the Day of the Dead festival, and assassinate him. We lost one man before we even began. Parachute 'failed'. Should have been a sign. The night of the festival I found another one of my men, balls torn off. Before I could help him, he was shot by my commanding officer, Vernon. Turns out Vernon was in league with Roba for quite some time. When I tried to escape and meet with a backup squad called in to arrest Vernon, I was shot, and captured." Ghost's eyes seemed to glaze over as he spoke, voice quiet but steady.

"Fuck…so that's what the captain was talking about before we went in." Roach said quietly. "He kept saying that he wasn't Vernon. But who was…Sparks?" Ghost sighed, the arm that was on his stomach moving to cover his eyes. He turned his head to look towards Roach, eyes hidden.

"Kevin Sparks and Marcus Washington were two other people on our squad that were captured right before I was. Both of them were US Special Forces. And for some reason, they were so easily swayed. We were subjected to-"

Roach interrupted him once again. "You don't have to tell me exactly what happened. I mean…" He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Roach. Have you ever hit your breaking point?" Ghost asked suddenly. The younger man glanced at Ghost, confused.

"My…breaking point?"

"The point in your life where you get so overwhelmed that you change? For better or for more often worse?" Ghost sat up suddenly, seemingly ignoring the pain he had been enduring thus far.

"…I guess not." Roach said slowly, sitting up himself. "Probably the closest I got was being disowned by my parents after I joined the military. I kinda went recluse for a while, got really good at whatever job they threw at me."

"…if you haven't hit it yet, you will soon." Ghost said strangely. "There are so many ways to hurt someone. Play on their fears. Play on their likes. Their dislikes. Grow trust in someone. Break that trust. Promise someone things that they dream of." His voice started to get deeper, his accent growing more heavy. "Twist words until the person thinks they actually said it and agree, no matter how off from their own moral compass it is. Giving gifts, granting their most primal cravings and obsessions. Inflicting unimaginable pain. Taking what was most precious to them. Horrible, twisting pain until they can't think straight, and tell them sweet white lies about how it'll be over soon a-"

"Ghost." Roach grabbed Ghost's shoulder, stopping him midsentence. He could see a wild look in Ghost's eyes, a look he had only seen once.

When Meat and Worm had locked him into the supply closet.

The look of wild, unchecked fear. When Ghost looked up and made eye contact, the fear was hidden under a look of…that strange emotion. Enjoyment…? No, he wasn't enjoying it.

"They…they did a lot to you man. I know that. You don't gotta tell me any more if you don't want to." Roach said quietly. He refused to drop eye contact. Ghost turned his body until he was facing Roach, slightly hunched over as he crossed his legs.

"Roach. They did do a lot to me. But before I was captured, taken away from everything, I had built myself back up. I covered what had happened to me as a kid. I had reached that point when I was a small kid. My father…wasn't a loving father." Ghost's voice was barely above a whisper, Roach straining to hear him even in the dead silent room. "But I built myself back up. I was disciplined, precise, in control of everything I did. Until that day."

"Ghost, to this goddamn day I only see you as a badass motherfucker. There is nothing you could say that could change that truth." said Roach quietly. Ghost rested his elbows onto his knees, resting his head in his hands. Ghost whispered something quietly to himself, incoherent to Roach.

"Roba was smart. He knew ways to take a human mind and change it, mold it into something he desired. And he did, with Sparks and Washington. We were forced to fight each other…drugged heavily, beaten to an inch of our lives…taken advantage of…" Ghost shook his head, a shudder rippling through him. Roach watched the top of Ghost's head, taking in the still full head of ginger hair that was usually hidden under a mask. "He found our fears, our wishes, and used the knowledge he had to…our lives were like putty to him…"

"Man, you can stop talking about this." Roach spoke up, one hand resting on Ghost's shoulder. "We can talk about stupid shit-like me falling in ice." Ghost didn't seem to hear him, continuing his thoughts.

"The large scars on my left side….one night, they got angry that I didn't kill someone…they took me to a tree, speared a hook through me, and hung me. For hours of me in agonizing pain, screaming for so long. I hadn't felt that kind of pain before." Ghost reached to rub the scar on the front of his torso, his gaze focused on it. He glanced back up, a far off look in his eyes.

"Then one night, Sparks and Washington came up to me, free. They tried to get me out, but they couldn't. I told them to leave. It wasn't worth it for all of us to die. I had given up at that point. Then, they came for me." Ghost's expression grew dark, haunted. "They dug up Vernon, stuffed me into a coffin with a half-rotted body, and buried me alive. I panicked. It was too small, too cramped, the smell of death and decay was everywhere. It took me thirteen hours to dig my way out. I ended up a week later in Texas."

"I remember a news report a few years ago about someone being found near one of my friend's hometown. That was you?"

"Probably. Within a month I was flown back home. I reunited with my mother, my brother and his beautiful wife and son. It was…nice." Roach knew Ghost wasn't used to people easily reading his emotions and getting close. But when he looked and made eye contact with the battered man in front of him, he knew why. Ghost didn't want to feel and experience what he was remembering. That loss was too great. "Christmas eve, Sparks found me at my home, greeting me like an old friend. We went for drinks, catching up, and he said something about Roba. We ended up in a hotel. And I found out that he was working for him. Sparks threatened me, and Washington shot me. I ran away, driving around the city to lose them. And I remembered. They knew my family was important. Sparks knew where to find them." Roach saw Ghost's shoulders shake, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he looked down. "I was too late….I found them…all slain, and they framed me for the murder. I was charged for the murder of my own family-" Ghost stopped, taking deeper breaths.

"…Ghost…sto-"

"I need you to do me a favor, Roach." Ghost said suddenly, still not looking up.

"Sure…" Roach said hesitantly.

"When you get out of this-"

"We." Roach emphasized.

"When you get out of this…you find your parents. And talk to them." Ghost ignored his correction. Roach sat in silence. He suddenly sat up onto his knees and hugged the man in front of him. Ghost flinched in surprise. "Roa-"

"Shut up. You need a hug." Roach said quickly. He let go, leaning back to look Ghost in the eye. "Really, you need more than just a hug from me. But really, you didn't need to tell me all of that, and you did. And I don't think I can do much, but I know it's better to talk about it than not. So, when we get out of here, consider me the person you can talk to about anything and everything. Ok? Or even while we're here waiting for cap to get here."

"I doubt he'll get here on time." Ghost shook his head. Roach noticed the fear had dissipated from his eyes, a haunted look taking over his expression. "Or at all, really."

"He'll come. He won't let us down." Roach said firmly.

"Do you believe you will be rescued, Gary Sanderson?" Both task force members whipped around to see Gonzalo standing in the open doorway, something swinging in his hand. "I am fairly certain we took that idea and removed it from thought when we had transferred facilities."

"I-wait. Who are you talking to?" Roach asked, a perplexed look on his face. "None of us is named…Gary you said? He's Ghost and I'm Roach."

"The funny thing about those enlisted in the military, regardless of what country they are from. They give you metal dog tags with your name and other useful information. My men just happened to find yours tucked into the sole of your right boot." Gonzalo stopped swinging the object in his hands, holding them to show small dog tags clearly printed with Roach's name.

"Could be anybody's, really. I lost a lot of good friends." Roach shrugged, moving to sit slightly in front of Ghost, who had looked down at the floor.

"But to only have one dog tag, when you claim to have lost many friends?" Gonzalo raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Please, do stop trying to lie to me. It is quite exhausting to argue this with you Gary."

"Ok what's with the obsession with my name?" Roach asked haughtily. "I know I'm an interesting fellow, trust me I get that a lot. But really?"

"I detest nicknames, I am sure I told you within a few days of the beginning of your stay." Gonzalo dropped the dog tags into his pocket, grabbing his prized gun from its usual place and starting it's acrobatics again.

"Probably. I was drugged the first few days and beaten a lot. So my memory is spotty at best." Roach shrugged. He felt Ghost's hand reach up and grab his shoulder, squeezing once in warning.

"I came in for another reason. I wanted to check on Simon. It seems that he is awake." Gonzalo's gaze had been on Ghost more than half of the conversation, a predatory aura about him.

"Yeah, and? Can we have some peace? We were having a rather deep conversation." Roach turned to face Ghost, his back to Gonzalo. "As I was saying."

"Gary, I wish to talk to Simon."

"And I was talking to him before you rudely interrupted. For someone who was high 'n mighty about manners earlier you sure don't like to follow them." Roach scoffed. "Jeez. Interrupting conversations is one of the rudest things, huh Ghost?" He looked to Ghost's face, noticing a brief flash of confusion before anger.

"Don-"

WHACK

SO...

It's been a while...I mean not as long as the last update. Only four months and some odd days.
So you know, not a set schedule like I said last time. I've just been...eugh...kinda like...bad...
Work is beyond stupid lately-I work with some back-stabby people, with people who have the maturity of kindergartners...

I'll be working on the next chapter within the next few weeks...hopefully...