love, simon. (simon 'ghost' riley x oc (read caption!))

(30)

i sat up sharply, my chest heaving quickly as i struggled to breathe.

i could only hear ringing.

i felt like i was going to explode, i couldn't breathe, my stomach was going flips, i felt cold and sweaty at the same time.

i scrambled to get the seatbelt off of me, hysterically crying and hyperventilating.

i felt warm arms wrap around me and pull me onto the ground.

i tried to fight it and escape the grasp before i heard their first words.

"shh, breathe Anne, breathe. you're alright." a familiar brit assured, holding my back tight to his chest.

i sobbed, my breaths shaky and uneven.

"breathe sweetheart, you're not doing yourself any favors by hyperventilating." he rested his chin at the nape of my neck.

the screaming sobs stopped, by breathing beginning to even out.

"that's it princess, just breathe. you're here with me, you're safe." he assured me.

he had clearly had panic attacks before, or at the very least dealt with them.

i silently thanked whatever gods there were that high ranking officers were in a separate part of the plane, meaning none of the team saw my little fit.

"what was that?" soap abruptly asked.

"shh." simon dismissed him, softly kissing at my neck.

i finally calmed down, tears stopping and breaths even.

"i'm sorry." i mumbled, my words barely audible.

"shh, you don't need to be sorry. you had a nightmare, you're alright." simon assured me, loosening his grip on me.

i got up and sat back in my seat, running my hands over my face before i fixed up my hair.

"you have those often?" mactavish questioned.

"not in days." i shook my head.

"what happens?" he asked.

"don't worry about it." i shook my head, just wanting to clear the memory.

"soap shut up for a minute. just let her clear her head." simon warned, sitting beside me.

"we're about to land anyway." he dismissed.

i nodded, bracing.

once we had landed, we split up and headed for the location ping from the video feed.

i was driving, soap and simon in the backseat.

we saw cars parked and armed guards with them.

"oh joy." i sighed, preparing for a shitshow.

"lost travelers?" soap suggested, recalling a scheme we used to pull often.