Being completely paralysed from the waist down wasn’t fun. Not at all. You couldn’t do anything without help. You couldn’t go down stairs, you were too short to reach for door handles and you even needed help bathing. You needed help with everything, and it was embarrassing.

If only that crash didn’t happen. If that drunk driver didn’t crash into you and your mothers car. Maybe you’d still be able to walk freely. Maybe you’d still be able to open doors, bathe yourself and go shopping without assistance. Maybe your mother would still be alive. But no, not anymore.

That had happened almost a year ago now, everything was difficult. Currently, you were at the mall. You were on the second floor, and you needed to get back to the ground floor. But annoyingly, the elevator had broke whilst you were on the second floor, leaving you torn. You had no way to get downstairs. The elevator was broken, and it wasn’t like you could simply take the stairs or escalators.

For a moment you just sat there by the stairs, gripping the handle of your wheelchair tightly. What the hell was you supposed to do? Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of arms wrapping around you.

Before you could even process it, you were lifted out of your wheelchair and into someone’s arms. A military man, someone wearing a skull mask. He looked annoyed, almost like he was scolding himself.

He didn’t say anything as he lifted you, carrying you bridal style. He could feel your limp legs, how you seemed unable to move them. For a moment he stood there, and then he turned to his best friend.

“Soap, grab the wheelchair.” Ghost grumbled quietly before he began to walk down the stairs with you in his arms, not even looking at you. He was too stubborn to show he felt bad for you.