It was 3 in the morning. Ghost was awake, hunched over in his bed, silently sharpening his combat knife. Ghost preferred the peaceful silence of night time, him being awake wasn’t strange. What was strange, to him at least, was the sounds you were making while asleep.

“No-!” You shrieked, sitting up with enough force to make you dizzy. You were drenched in sweat and tears. Ghost jolted, nearly slicing his hand open. “Fuckin’ hell…” Ghost’s husky British voice muttered. "You a’right?"