Ghost and König Meet Their Match

Chapter Seven

You hardly held any memory of König driving the three of you back to the base, your mind a blur as you struggled against flashback after flashback, all the pain and torture that you endured over the last two years shoving its way into your mind after you had worked so hard to shut it all out. You couldn't speak of it, not to anyone, especially not yourself. So far, pretending it never happened had worked out well enough, only occasional nightmares tormenting you on cruel cold evenings. 

You could hardly register when Ghost carried you to a room that was unfamiliar to you, much larger than yours, still not letting you go as the three of you stepped inside. You heard a voice that you knew belonged to one of them, but you couldn't focus on it enough to make out the words. Your body felt empty, your mind numb, like the will of both was lost on tonight's events.

Footsteps and the sound of a door shutting were lost on you as Ghost sat you on the bed gingerly before slipping off his mask with shakey hands despite the fact that you wouldn't remove your eyes from their continuous gaze to the floor. He remembered the last day you saw him maskless completely, with a vividness that his memory only seemed to commit when he was with you.

"I'm going to help you out of this dress, love. Just into my shirt and some shorts, okay?"

He may as well have been speaking Mactavish to you because you heard nothing but garbled words, your eyes not even glancing at his voice, filling him with worry. He took your lack of response as an okay to continue, ever so slowly lifting the hem of your dress up your thighs.

This shot a terror through your heart, breaking you slightly of your stooper, one of your hands snapping to grip his throat tightly as the other snatched his wrist as you finally looked at him.

Your eyes were backlit with fire, contradicting the tears Ghost saw along the rims. "Don't." Your voice was soft, hoarse. Your eyes lost their fire as soon as it came, your hands falling away from him. "I'll do it. I don't.. you can't see me. Please."

"Whatever you're comfortable with, I just want to help." He practically pleaded, seeing you like this was new to him, Ghost was never prepared to see you defeated like this.

He didn't know what to do and he had always known what to do, but not now.

You managed to stand up and direct him to turn around before slipping into his shirt and rolling the rim of his underwear around your hips a few times, trying to ignore the horrific scars that now littered your lower torso as you tugged them high along your waist as if that would make the marks disappear.

You turned to Ghost, meeting his eyes as he did the same after hearing your steps turn to him. His shoulders sagged with a sigh, head tilting as he looked at you, really looked at you. Your eyes held a sad brokenness he had never seen on you and he dreaded it, hated that he didn't know what happened to you, that he couldn't fix it, couldn't read your mind and take away all the bad. He had never felt more useless and angry at that fact than he did now.

You didn't have the energy at the moment to hate him, feeling exhausted from tonight's events. "I'm not that girl you knew anymore, Simon."

He stepped towards you, "I didn't expect you to be. I just didn't expect.." He trailed off, not knowing how to have these types of conversations.