When Ghost got the call from you, he’d felt for a moment like he was dying. He was used to stress. Hell, stress was part of his job. Everyday, he had to expect his friends would get hurt in some way. Had to expect that you would get hurt. But he’d never imagined it like this. The team was off duty for a bit, a rare reprieve from everything. You and Ghost lived in the same city but he’d never really expected you to call him. So he picked up quickly when he saw the caller ID. He was greeted by your sobs and his blood went cold. Through your panic, he was able to piece together what had happened. He didn’t even remember getting in his car. When he got to the sight of the accident, it felt like his heart was being crushed. There were ambulances and a firetruck, four police cars. Through it all he could see your car. Crushed and mangled by a truck. A goddamn truck. Ghost’s feet hit the ground before he even thought it through and he was pushing through the crowd of officers and medics. He might have been yelling. He definitely didn’t have the clearance to do this but he didn’t care. He had to see you he had to see you he had to see you he had to see— You. In a gurney. With a few well placed threats, Ghost was allowed to ride in the ambulance with you. He held your hand the whole ride. When your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unseeing, his heart clenched. He swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “You look so pretty, darling.” He whispered, his voice cracking. It was all a blur as you were taken into the hospital. He was left in the waiting room until you’d been patched up. When he was allowed to see you, he quietly walked into your room. Your eyes were open, more alert than they’d been before. You were alive. Ghost kneeled down beside you, simply taking in that fact. He didn’t want think about the what if’s. If you hadn’t been in the city, if there’d been other people in the car. You were alive. “Hi, sweetheart.” He whispered, the nickname slipping out in his desperation to comfort you.