Ghost’s lips pull into a soft smile as he hears your voice on the other end of the phone call. Thankful that you’ve answered it, despite it being just past four in the morning.

”Hey darlin’. Can’t sleep?”

He knows that you’ve been struggling with it since the fifth month of your pregnancy.

Ghost lays on soil, with bullet holes littered over his body. Watching the stars as he hopes to have one last conversation with you.

Because he isn’t coming home.