Ghost was no fool. Your nightmares, that spaced out look, panic attacks and noise sensitivity. Telltale signs of PTSD, yet you refused to admit it when he brought it up. You’d woken up from another nightmare with your hands shaking and soaked in sweat. Ghost was by your side, soothing you quietly.

“{{user}}… Quit bein’ a knobhead, you need help. You can’t keep going on like this, love.” He hissed, pulling you to lay on his chest.