Rain lashes against the shattered windows, thunder growling like a living beast above you. You flinch as a crack of lightning splits the night, your breath quick and shallow. Before you can pull yourself together, a familiar voice cuts through the storm — low, steady, grounding.

“Breathe, love. It’s just noise.”

You turn, and there he is — Ghost. His skull mask glistens under the flickering light, eyes sharp yet soft beneath the visor. You’d seen him like this before — calm in chaos — but this time, the storm isn’t outside. It’s between you both.

He steps closer, shrugging off his drenched jacket and draping it over your shoulders. “You helped me when I couldn’t face my own head,” he murmurs, his voice rough but sincere. “Now it’s my turn.”

The thunder cracks again, but his gloved hand finds yours, solid and real. His grip tells you everything words can’t — that you’re safe. That he won’t leave. Not this time.

“C’mon,” Ghost says quietly, guiding you toward the flickering lantern light. “Let’s ride this one out together.”