Chapter Text
You bolt upright, breathing labored, heart thudding in your ears. The heels of your palms dig into your eyes, trying in vain to scrub away the afterimages of the harrowing nightmare that cling to the edges of your consciousness.
It was the usual scenario, as it always is. Failed missions, bloodied hands, screaming for help that’ll never come.
You swipe your hand over your face, shoving your hair back and glaring at the clock on the nightstand. 02:37.
Historically, you’ve never been able to get back to sleep on a night like this, so you don’t bother trying.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress and waiting for the ringing in your ears to fade.
After a few more steadying breaths, you straighten your rumpled nightclothes, shrug on the only sweater you managed to bring to the safehouse, and step carefully out of your room.
Bypassing the other doorways through which soft snoring emanates, you navigate past the couch where the hulking sihlouette of your Lieutenant lies and pick your way to the front door.
A brisk chill greets you when you pull it open, but you tense when the hinges groan loudly. Every person in this cabin is a light sleeper, so you’re pleasantly surprised when no one comes to investigate.
You shuffle outside and settle on the porch steps, leaning heavily against the handrailing despite the way the worn wood scratches your temple and snags your hair.
Squeezing your eyes closed to shut out the disquieting images resurfacing in your mind, you focus your attention instead on the chirping crickets and the wind softly rustling the surrounding trees.
Your heart leaps into your throat when creaking from behind you startles you out of your reverie. Heavy footsteps strain the old wood slats, then Ghost is lowering himself onto the step next to you.
“Can’t sleep?” His voice rumbles so lowly it practically resonates through the porch.
You stare down at your fingers where they’re clasped in front of your knees. “You too, huh?”
He hums noncommittally and digs into the pocket of his sweatpants, producing a small white carton that he tilts at you meaningfully.
You glance down at it and shake your head lightly. “I don’t smoke.”
“Good.” He tucks the box away. “Don’t start.”
The two of you lapse into companionable silence. A stiff breeze elicits a shiver from you and you cross your arms over your chest, pretending not to notice the way Ghost inches slightly closer to you.
It’s oddly comforting - being bracketed by the railing and a veritable wall of muscle. His shoulders certainly shield you from the brunt of the cold, and with the thin t-shirt he’s wearing, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of him.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asks, apropos of nothing.
That’s an easy answer. “Not even a little bit.” You scoff almost derisively.
He sighs heavily, drawing his knees closer to his chest and resting his forearms over them. Ghost looks down to study you for a moment, eyes flicking across your face.
You badly wish you could see what kind of expression is under that balaclava. It’s impossible to interpret what he’s clearly struggling to say using only the intensity of his gaze as a benchmark.
“I’m worried about you.”
Well, that’s not what you were expecting. “Didn’t know you were capable, sir.” You default to levity like it’s second nature.
His brow furrows. “Cute.” He deadpans. “But I’m serious.”
You supress the urge to backpedal, to brush off his concerns and assure him you’re perfectly fine so you don’t have to face this suddenly charged conversation.
“You’re clearly exhausted, yet you hardly sleep. And lately you’ve got this look in your eye that reminds me of-“ Ghost stops short with a weary exhale, his knuckles paling under the pressure of his own grip.
“You been watching me, Lieutenant?” Your lips quirk wryly.
Ghost isn’t deterred by your attempt at blitheness. “It’s my job to watch you.” He shifts to face you more fully, leveling you with a weighty countenance. “I just,” he says deliberately, like he’s analyzing every word before it leave his lips. “Want to be what you need me to be.”
Your eyes remain resolutely focused on the gravel pathway extending beyond the stairs, despite how thin the air is becoming. You’re painfully aware that you’re toeing a dangerous boundary- one you’re contractually forbidden to cross.
“Who do I remind you of?” You ask quietly.
Ghost lets out another sigh, sounding more drained than ever. “Doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.”
This admission earns him a wide-eyed look of subdued astonishment. When it comes to his past, he’s usually reticent at best and standoffish at worst.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
He huffs sardonically. “Not even a little bit.”
There’s an unspoken, grim sort of camaraderie that electrifies the little bubble surrounding you both. Though, Ghost’s demeanor has inexplicably shifted - there’s a slow leak you can’t see and he’s deflating right in front of you.
You can help. You can fix this. He showed you his hand, exposed a flaw in his armor to you, but your next words are devoid of obligation. You want Ghost to know this. Need him to know.
“I also worry, y’know.” The moon backlights his frame, shrouding his face in shadow and cutting an imposing figure. “About you. So I want you to know that I’m-” You clear your throat. “I’m here for you, too. I’ve got your back.”
In your peripheral, Ghost’s head turns sharply. You flick your eyes to meet his, and he looks as though he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing.
“Thank you.” He murmurs.
“You’re thanking me for worrying about you?”
“Guess I am.”
Silence settles again, but there’s something else you’d much rather be hearing.
“Can you just,” You start before you can second-guess yourself. “Talk?”
His eyes are drawn to you again, brightened by the moonlight. “Bout what?”
“Anything.”
His posture softens knowingly and he takes your request in stride. Your gaze drifts sightlessly to the dense forest beyond the property as he begins regaling you with the origin behind one of the scars on his hand.
“Got this one right after I enlisted. Was in basic with a bastard called Robbie - wasn’t the brightest lad.” Ghost’s voice rumbles through you pleasantly. The tension melts out of your shoulders, your nightmare fading into obscurity with each word out of his mouth.
Your head bobs precariously as you start to drift, peripherally aware of Ghost closing the gap between you, pressing fully into your side. The man is effectively a space heater, so you’re far too comfortable to fight the heaviness of your eyelids, the deep voice vibrating against you lulling you into unconsciousness.
Awareness returns to you gradually this time. Your head is fully supported by a solid shoulder, the arm wrapped around your back keeping you upright. There’s a comfortable weight resting on the top of your head and when you stir, you sense a subtle reaction.
“Back with me?” Comes the sleep-worn voice almost intimately close to your ear.
You lift your head, rubbing at the indentations Ghost’s shirt left in your cheek. “Yeah, I’m-“ A yawn crawls its way up your throat. “I’m with you.” The countless nuances of that phrase are not lost on you.
The fingertips resting at your hip dig in for a split second before sliding up to rest on your back, supporting you while you sort yourself out.
Suddenly, your brain catches up. “Ah, shit,” You straighten up and wipe ineffectually at the little dark spot you drooled into his shirt. “Sorry...” You say sheepishly.
“You’re apologizing for sleeping?” You can hear the amusement in his tone.
“Guess I am.”
“You don’t have to.” His eyes harbor a soft sort of earnestness you don’t think you’ve seen before. “Apologize, I mean. Not for this.” The morning light reveals a depth of color in his irises you’re sure you’ve never seen before. “Never for this.”
The sincerity etched into the crease of his brow stuns you into silence for a moment, but the automatic smile that curves up the corners of your mouth is the most genuine it’s been in a long while.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” You stand and stretch, missing the way Ghost’s arms reach for you reflexively before he forces them back down.
You amble to the doorway, in a considerably better mood than when you had passed through it last. “I’ll put some tea on for you.”
Stealing one last glance, you find that he’s pinning you with an indecipherable stare, captivated, but he nods all the same. You shoulder open the door, his gaze boring holes into your back until it swings shut behind you.