Work Text:
“Simon, love, you need to take it easy.”
His fingers tangle tighter in his hair, his grip so tight he thinks he might rip out handfuls of blonde curls.
He could swear he felt fingers against his for a moment, just a moment . But his skin remains cold, everything in him squeezing and breaking.
He was doing so well, so well .
But Johnny’s back, running fingers through his hair as Simon cries, as he yanks and pulls and chokes down screams .
“J-Johnny…” He hates how small and hoarse his own voice is and cringes at the sound.
“Yes, love?”
“Please stop… I-I can’t, I can’t keep doing this.” He can’t look at him; he can’t take that sad, kicked puppy expression that he knows awaits him.
“I want to help you, Simon.” Why does he sound so heartbreaking ?
“I’m sorry… B-but your not.” He feels like he’s choking to death, like his lungs might just give out and collapse.
“I… I don’t know what to do, Simon.” Ghost’s eyes squeeze shut, hitching sobs ripping out of his heaving chest.
“I j-just, I just need you,” He chokes on his sentence, turning his face into the sheets of his bed to hide.
“I just need you to stay dead,
please
.”