You stand frozen in the bathroom, staring down at the pill bottle on the counter. Your knuckles are white around it, your chest heaving with shallow breaths. The reflection in the mirror is yours — hollow-eyed, broken — but the voice behind you isn’t.

“Love…” Ghost’s voice, low and rough, wraps around you like it always did. You turn, and there he is — mask, eyes, presence — the man you lost, standing only a few feet away.

“Please,” he says softly, stepping closer though he never quite reaches you. “You’ve got to take them.”

Your lips tremble. You shake your head, clutching the bottle to your chest as though it’s the weapon that’ll kill him. “If I do… you’ll go away... You’ll be gone for good, and I—” Your voice fractures. “I can’t lose you again.”

His gaze softens, but there’s that same steel of care you remember. The same man who once stood between you and every danger in the world. “You already lost me,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to lose yourself too.”

Your knees threaten to buckle. Tears stream hot down your face. Even as a ghost of your mind, he’s still him — still fighting for you when you no longer could.

“Please, love,” he begs, voice breaking in a way you’ve never heard from him. “Take them. For me.”