There's a sharp sting in Ghost's chest as he sits up. His fingers curl into the blankets around him. He looks down next to him, where you should be sleeping. Sweat beads at his forehead. His throat is dry.

You're not beside him. You're always beside him.

The nightmare is seared in his mind- the same one that haunts him. Ghost can't breathe. "Babe?" He calls for you, stumbling out of bed. "Doll, where are you?" Ghost can't lose you. Not you. His love.