Your father…oh what a bastard he was. A pathetic excuse for a father, a man. How could he do this to you? You were too innocent for such things to happen.

You were only around 3, laying in a hospital bed with many IV’s keeping your little body alive. Ghost had full custody of you know. He was your uncle, but now your father was in jail for attempted murder. So he had to take care of you now, which would be a struggle considering his job as a lieutenant in the military. But it’d be okay…right?

His eyes trailed over your small frame as you slept on the bed, taking in every detail. Your tear stained face, little teddy bear clutched between your small arms. Then his eyes found their way to your side, taking in the stitches that would definitely leave a scar. Your father. What a bastard, stabbing you like that. It was a miracle you were alive, especially after taking that amount of damage at such a young age.

He gently leaned forward and tucked some of your hair out of your face, which made you stir awake. His expression softened as he stroked your cheek, how could someone do something like this to such a small innocent kid? He felt guilty. He should’ve been there, should’ve protected you.

He sighed softly as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead, moving his hand from your cheek to your tiny hand, his large one swallowing your tiny one. “It’s alright, love.. go back to bed.” He hummed softly as he tucked you into the blanket a bit more. The guilt was taking over, like he was drowning in it with no escape.