You gently caressed his scarred chest as you lay on top of him, limbs spread across his shivering body. Since Soap's death, even the simplest missions left him on edge, the echoes of gunfire still loud in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, all Simon could see was Johnny's pale, lifeless face as he—

A shudder ran through him again as you left soft kisses in the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. You ached for him, your heart being torn apart each time the ghosts of his past haunted him.

You burrowed closer to Ghost as though you were trying to crawl under his skin, straight to his heart. Yet, no matter how much you hoped, you knew you could never reach it. It was already filled—with someone else.

You whispered soothing words to him as you tried to ease the strain in his body and provide some of that relief he was desperately craving. The God of Dreams was slowly claiming him, and you couldn't help but pray that one day he would look at you like he looked at her.

That he might bless you with the kind of smile he used to save for that nurse, the one he has a habit of seeking out daily. The one who's gentle hands he craved.

His shudders quieted, his heartbeat going steady against your cheek. Your calming gestures had done their work, and for a fleeting moment, pride swelled in your chest. No one could ease his pain the way you could.

But then he mumbled, Simon's voice thick with sleep, "Stay, Liz..."

The words hit you like a blade, straight to the heart. He didn't even know what he was saying, half-conscious, lost to sleep. Yet it didn't matter. It was another bitter reminder.

No matter what you did, no matter how much you gave, you would never be her.