A Nurse and Their Ghost | Simon Riley "Ghost" x Reader

chapter 40

The crushing fatigue of the hours weighs you down, pulling at the edges of your consciousness, coaxing you to give in to the tempting embrace of sleep. Every fiber of your being screams for relief, yearning for just a moment's respite. 

But the promise you made to Ghost, the urgency and vulnerability you saw in his eyes just before they closed, spurs you on. The flickering fire casts a dim glow, its gentle crackle echoing the comfort and security Ghost offers, even in his unconscious state. 

Your eyes drift towards him from time to time, drawing solace from his protective aura. Time stretches endlessly, each minute feeling like an eternity. Your head bows occasionally, heavy with weariness, but you fight the seductive pull, jolting yourself back to alertness. 

Yet, just when the promise of sleep seems almost too enticing to resist, a disturbance snaps you back to reality. Ghost's body convulses, his features contorting into a grimace of distress. Panic engulfs you as you realize he's ensnared in the throes of a tormenting nightmare.

Your heart races, and without a moment's hesitation, you lean in, shaking Ghost fervently in an attempt to rouse him from the horrors of his dream. 

"Ghost," you utter, your voice laced with trepidation, "Ghost, wake up." But Ghost remains trapped in his nightmares, groaning softly, pain etched onto his face. 

"Ghost!" you exclaim louder, urgency echoing in your plea, hoping that your voice will pierce through the dark veil of his dream.

But the next moment turns chillingly chaotic. With a sudden jolt, Ghost bolts upright, causing the two of you to topple off the couch. Battle-hardened reflexes, sharpened from years in treacherous terrains and countless skirmishes, take over. 

Before you can register the shift, his hand shoots out, ensnaring your neck with a vice-like grip. 

"Ghost!" you manage to rasp, but your voice, choked by his grip, barely breaks the oppressive silence. The eyes that meet yours are frenzied and disoriented, still ensnared by the phantoms of his dream. 

Desperation claws at you, and you try to speak, to reach him, but your words come out as muffled croaks. Your fingers scramble, attempting to free yourself from the stranglehold, feeling the sheer force he exerts.

In his confusion, Ghost's grip only tightens. The world around you starts to dim, but you muster every ounce of strength to pierce through his haze. 

"Ghost!" you cry out again, louder, desperation seeping into every syllable, "Ghost, it's me! Y/N! Look at me!" 

Panic swells as you wrestle against him, the powerful grip leaving you increasingly feeble and disoriented. Vision blurs, and darkness begins to encroach, but you fight on, desperate to reach the man behind the wild, unrecognizing eyes.

The grip of sheer panic tightens around your heart as your surroundings blur, becoming a swirling mass of colors and shapes. Every second feels like an eternity, the oxygen deprivation slowly pulling you into oblivion's embrace. 

With what you believe to be your dwindling energy, you gather all your strength, managing to slap Ghost square across his face. The startling crack of your palm connecting with his masked cheek reverberates eerily in the stillness, seemingly pausing time itself.

Gradually, Ghost's eyes, which had previously been blank and detached, start to blink with a frenetic pace. As if breaking free from a deep trance, the shadows of confusion start to lift, replaced by a glimmer of understanding. 

As your vision starts to return, you find his eyes locked onto yours, a myriad of emotions dancing within them – confusion, realization, and horror.