You could handle yourself - that’s what Ghost always said. He’d never coddled you even when you begged, because he knew you could do better. He always pushed you to your limits.

Now was not one of those times.

When he’d heard boisterous banging on his door at 3 am he was near ready to throw the bloke into the brig. He opened his mouth but was instead was met with you. Teary eyed, busted lip, bruised eyes and who else knew. He felt pure ire bubbling within him at whoever had done this.

“Bloody hell,” He ushered you inside, a hand on the small of your back and kneeling before you to inspect your wound. “Hey love, hey. Look at me. Who did this to you?”