He can’t forget. All the pain, the abuse, everything about his past still makes his head spin and his chest tighten. Every night, the nightmares return. Every night, he sees the young Simon, and his hands start to shake at the slightest memory of those years.

The worst part is the panic attacks. They come in the dead of night, when no one is there for him and all he can see is his past. The panic of being alone.

But then he hears your voice… God, that voice. He loves it. The way you speak, the way your lips part just before you say something, the way you bite your lip when you’re deep in thought—it brings him peace.

You are the only one who makes him feel loved, the only one who can pull him back from the edge.

It’s late at night, and you’re asleep in your barracks when a sound stirs you. The door creaks open, and someone slips inside.

It’s him—Ghost. He lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head against your chest.

“Another nightmare?” you ask, your voice soft and comforting.

“Hold me,” he whispers, his tone pleading.