MacTavish's explanation was both too long and too short, not detailed enough and overly detailed.

Ghost knew there were still missing pieces, parts that MacTavish hadn't necessarily wanted to fill in. A second time captured, a second time near death. This time was apparently different enough though, judging by his spotty memory.

He had someone with him, not just like before, but was together with him the entire time.

The inkling was that it was Roach, the person that isn't fully explained in his muddled and scattered memories. Watching MacTavish skim over his notebook several times, eyes changing each time he looked over the harsh arrows between Roach's name and accusatory words helped solidify that was probably the case. Oddly enough, was that he couldn't remember much about the elusive Roach, other than his appearance and what he did in the One-Four-One. His personality, personal connection, anything that had to do with their relationship was out the window.

Archer had come in in the evening to force their captain to bed, and it left Ghost with even more questions when MacTavish had ordered Archer to not explain anything they already hadn't talked about.

Just because the last time he remembered anything he stabbed his hand with an admittedly dull pen didn't mean he was going to do it again, he had argued. Which in that moment Archer refused to answer more questions, eyeing the lack of anything around Ghost in arm's reach.

Fair motion from Cindy and MacTavish, Ghost was deadly with a variety of things.

He was finally visited by Eric, the callsign "Toad" slipping out easily when Ghost greeted him. Toad looked at Ghost for a few moments before letting out rushed apologies for things Ghost didn't fully remember. When Ghost looked at him puzzled, it seemed to make Toad more distressed before he left in a hurry. Oddly, when Anthony- or rather, Meat- walked in, he had the same reaction, and Ghost was left further puzzled by this. MacTavish had to clarify that the two of them had found them during their situation, and had been there during the rescue. When Ghost was visited by both Toad and Meat again later that day, he had the disturbing feeling of cold and can't breathe wash over him until MacTavish had ushered them out and Archer had to call for a nurse to sedate him again with his panic attack spiraling out of control.

A couple of days later, Ghost was lucid enough for more physical therapy, and by day two was enjoying the fact that by sheer determination and stubbornness, he was able to go to the bathroom by himself. That moment of pride cost him a trip and fall in front of MacTavish, who had berated him for almost an hour about the dangers of unassisted walking given his latest medical problems. Ghost had simply stared at him throughout, which started another conversation about the merits of expressing his feelings.

Ghost got the feeling MacTavish wasn't listening to him when he said he didn't want to talk about said feelings when they relate to what he went through. Which, when he said as such, MacTavish left in a flurry of swears.

He was good at pushing people away.

Probably too good.

Ghost had eventually pieced together and remembered most of his latest endeavor of capture and torture but large, blank spaces where he knew someone- he know figured to be Roach- was with him. Why it was hard for him to remember that in particular led him to believe that the arrows in his book leading to betrayal weren't far off. He had written more in his own journal, details about Roba's son, the things he was subjected to.

Electrocution. Drowning. Seizures. Drugs. Confinement. Stabbings. Gunshot wounds.

The list grew every day, and the book heavier with the ink and memories filling it.

A few days had passed since the last time he had seen MacTavish, and Ghost was not exactly thankful for the lack of any visitors, but it didn't change his disposition when the captain did enter his room.

"You done bein' an arse?"

"Are you?" Was Ghost's short retort. MacTavish gave a sigh as he sank into the chair near the window, looking out it for a few moments. It left Ghost with enough time to study him and look over his posture. Shoulders hiked up to his ears, a large bruise surrounding a cut on the back of his right hand, leg shaking and tapping the floor, eyebrows furrowed in anger, eyes heavily shadowed like he hadn't slept in a week. "What got your knickers in a twist?"

"Are you going to be this antagonistic all day?" MacTavish asked shortly, not bothering to look his way.

"I'm bein' genuine here, 'Tavish. You look like shite." Ghost raised a hand up placating, eyes still searching. MacTavish let out a huff of air that sounded like a laugh.

"And you care?"

"I'm askin', aren't I?" MacTavish finally looked his way, expression falling instantly as they locked eyes.

"Sorry. Bloody glad we haven't given you back your shades, easy to read that you're actually serious." Ghost flipped him off. "Slag."

"Git." MacTavish shook his head before looking out the window again, Ghost following his gaze this time.

"I know you're still figuring shite out. I'd be happier if circumstances weren't as fucked." MacTavish started out slowly after a few moments. "But, well, Roach wants to speak to you." Ghost felt a wave of anger-and something else?- wash over him. "Before your knickers get into a twist, just…listen. It's hard enough keeping the bug away from you."

"And why should I?"

"This is how I know you haven't remembered everything. Roach…he was with you."

"So you lied."

"Never lied. Just never told you." MacTavish motioned to the notebook on Ghost's bedside table. "I read what you wrote. I didn't think it was right to drop that onto you like that. You had a panic attack when Toad and Meat walked into the room. If you saw Roach? You might go through something…worse."

"Like stabbing my own hand." Ghost lifted his hand to show the healing mark. MacTavish gave a single nod. "So? What happened?"

"From what Roach and…someone…told us, you two were protecting each other best you could, circumstances aside. Until some kinda…drug…" MacTavish trailed off, rubbing the back of his bruised hand.

"Which drug. There was a few." Ghost picked up his notebook, picking at a corner. "The one where it felt like I was on fire? Made me obey him no questions asked? Oh, or is it the one where I relieved my worst memories?"

"Stop." MacTavish spoke up quickly. Ghost looked up to him, noting the piercing gaze. "Chrissake, stop that."

"Stop what."

"You-ugh, never mind." MacTavish huffed out, standing up and pacing. Ghost could tell he was trying to avoid eye contact. "I get wanting to be difficult, but I am trying to help you here. Roach is like a brother to you-"

"Are you sure?" Ghost watched MacTavish pause midstep, face crestfallen. "Because if what I remember happening was him puncturing my lung-"

"Shut up, lieutenant." MacTavish snapped quickly, bristling with anger. "And fuckin' listen." Ghost blinked once, watching MacTavish reach the end of his bed, gripping the rails so tightly the cut on his right hand reopened.

"Alright, I'm listening." He finally said, leaning back into the pillows. MacTavish let out a long sigh, letting his head hang.

"Thank you. Okay, I need to fill in some gaps." MacTavish stood still for a long moment, before taking a deep breath. "You were captured trying to save Roach on our last op together. From what he's let us know, you two were kept together mostly, a few times you or him taken off for some experimentation, or solitary confinement." Ghost let out a shudder, recalling a dark box. "There was a time where they did find a drug that…well, for you, you obeyed no problem. And cut out that glare, I'm just telling you what he told us. Roach, though, could resist. So they made something worse for him." Ghost let that part sink in, recalling the man in the cell with him looking more and more like Roach, just worse for wear.

"Worse for him, better for them."

"Right. So, they used that to their advantage. When we finally got to you-" MacTavish cut himself off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Do…do you remember any of that?" Ghost looked down at his notebook, picking the same corner before realizing fidgeting with that wasn't enough and moved to get out of the bed. MacTavish made no motion to help as Ghost stood on shaky legs, taking a few steps until he was next to the window, staring at the late afternoon sky.

"I…kinda. Strung up, the drugs with the…not memories." Ghost shuddered, a flicker of his mother's half-rotted face flashing past his eyes. "He…came in. Roach, he was there. I was…" Ghost could remember the slices across his back. "Roach, he came up…stabbed me-" Ghost subconsciously had a hand over his hip, feeling the slightly marred scar through the hospital wear. When he blinked, in front of him was Roach, eyes devoid of emotion as the knife plunged into his chest. Ghost looked down, the knife stuck and quivering with every breath he took. He coughed, blood falling down as another knife came up to his chest. Ghost looked back up, Roach staring, unblinking. It hurt to breathe, no stop why couldn't he breathe-

"Ghost!" He whipped around sharply, MacTavish's hands on his forearms. He could hear panicked breathing muffled by the blood rushing through his ears. "Deep breath Ghost, c'mon." MacTavish took a deep breath, Ghost trying to mimic him vainly. He let out a shaky breath, MacTavish prompting him quietly to follow his breathing. Ghost didn't know how long it took, eventually calming down and sitting on the floor together. When he looked out the window, the sun was nearly set. He shifted until he was sitting next to MacTavish, leaning his head on the captain's shoulder and closing his eyes. He could feel the man next to him jump in surprise at the contact before relaxing slowly.

"Fuckin' hell…" Ghost finally muttered, leaning further into MacTavish's shoulder. He closed his eyes, his hair tickling on his eyelashes.

"We can stop." MacTavish finally spoke up. "Roach has been waiting a while, he can wait a bit longer." Ghost paused before shaking his head.

"No. It's fine. I…kinda remember after that."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Taco and Sparrow thinking I was a civvie. Honestly the two of them." Ghost shook his head. "Exfil to a plane…after that…" He gave a large shudder at the cold sensation spreading from his chest. MacTavish gave a hum of acknowledgment, letting Ghost stew in his thoughts for a few moments before speaking up.

"We lost you. Right when we got to the hospital. Surgery lasted for too long, they thought you wouldn't wake up, or if you did you would have brain damage. They got you back, lost you, got you back again. It-" MacTavish's sigh was a long and heavy one, full of emotion. "Fuck. Sorry. I just…" Ghost fell into thought. Most after going onto the plane was a blur, the sensation of cold followed by bursts of pain-

"But you woke up. Took a while, your memory's shite and you snap at everyone, but that's almost excusable."

"Almost?"

"You're a right arse when you wear your emotions on your face." MacTavish smirked. "But it's not cuz you're angry. You're scared." MacTavish dug into his pockets, pulling out one of Ghost's old masks and a new pair of sunglasses. "Don't…wear these in hospital. They'll think you're a nutter."

"Aren't I already?" Ghost gave a nod of thanks as he accepted the items, feeling some relief in having them. He didn't realize how much of a crutch it was for him.

"Har. Archer thought so for a second. Did you know he was from Coventry?"

"You act like I never read our personnel dossiers for fun. And don't tell people I was scared you tosser." Ghost paused for a moment. "Who…uh, exactly knows who I am?"

"Archer, Toad, Meat. When they had located you, they had said you gave me permission for what exactly brought this…whole mess. Sparrow and Taco know what you look like. Told them to keep it under wraps for now. But other than that, everyone on base doesn't know anything other than you two were rescued." MacTavish let out a hum. "But, to be fair, Sparrow is a blabbermouth so everyone might get a description of you at least. Overexagerate about something to be sure."

"Let 'im know I know where he sleeps, yeah?" MacTavish let out a snort, standing up and offering a hand to Ghost. Ghost took it gratefully, standing up on shaky legs and looking out the window. A minivan decked out in bright yellow had pulled up, a few people getting out in a rush.

"Oh, shite." MacTavish followed Ghost's gaze, pulling his phone out. "Archer. Head to the lobby, meet the family walking in-yea-no Archer-" He paused, glancing to Ghost for a moment. "It's Roach's family." Ghost whipped to look again, one person leading the group inside looking remarkably familiar.

"Oh."

...man like...

you know the feeling you get that you're towards the end of something and you just want it to finish so you can start something else because you're excited about the new thing and getting tired of the old thing but also burnt out because of real life getting in the way and wanting to die all the time to the point a doc just throws antidepressants at you and then find out that you need to have surgery on your shoulder but you cant schedule it until the end of the year? Just me? My bad

sorry that was a dump but that's been going on for the last year.

(ALSO. WHO PLAYED THE EARLY ACCESS CAMPAIGN. I HAVE MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THAT AND SPOILER ALERT THEY AREN'T GOOD FOR ME)