"Don't touch me." Ghost's voice was sharp, the words punctuated by a furrowed brow as he glared at one of the nurses attempting to tend to the deep wound on his shoulder. He had just returned from a brutal mission, blood staining his uniform, and yet, he refused the help that was offered.

The nurse hesitated, then backed away, knowing there was no point in trying to get through to him. Ghost’s defiance was well known, and he’d rather suffer in silence than let anyone close to him in moments of vulnerability.

"Where is she?" His voice was rough, impatience dripping from each word. The other nurses exchanged knowing looks. They knew exactly who he meant.

You.

The only person Ghost allowed to help him, to be near him when he was at his worst. It didn’t matter how badly he was hurt—if you weren’t there, he’d endure it alone. There was something about you that soothed him, something that made him drop his usual guard. Only with you did his eyes soften, shedding the usual anger and frustration he wore like armor.

The nurses stepped aside as he scanned the room, his gaze darting over every corner of the ward.

And then he saw you.

You had just finished tending to another patient and were walking toward his bed when you heard the commotion—the low murmurs and the tension in the air. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to face him, catching the unmistakable look in his eyes. He was waiting for you.

"You're here," he muttered under his breath, his voice quieter now, but no less urgent.

And for the first time since he’d walked in, his body relaxed just slightly, like the weight of the world had been lifted, even if just for a moment.