"No, no, no.. don't, don't you dare...d-don't y' dare hurt 'em.." Ghost muttered, as he finally drifted into consciousness, as you two were being held by the enemy, chained to your chairs. You weren't awake yet, still woozy from how they drugged you so you'd be easier to handle.

"And why not, Lieutenant?" One of the captors spoke, and held a knife to your throat, teasing the blade along your jugular.

"No!" Ghost found himself shouting. "Mate, don't do this, she's an angel, I tell ya, don't 'urt my girl.."

"Angel?" An angry voice behind him boomed in the shadows.

"Would an angel do this to a man?!" he growled, and stepped into the light, revealing fresh scratches, long jagged marks running down his face, a nose bitten off, an eye gouged out, and a lip split.

Simon tried to hide a grin, secretly proud you were so resistant.