I Feel It In My Bones (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Coffee for the Soul

You had been back in Edinburgh for a week.

Most of your days had been spent cocooned in the comforting embrace of your bed or lounging on the sofa, a growing collection of trashy movies and old series keeping you company. It was a decent distraction from the persistent pain that still lingered, at least.

Your concussion had been mild - you figured that with another week of rest you would be back to full functioning. Your abdominal pain was easing, too, though you were still on regular painkillers to keep the dull aching at bay. You had kept Price updated through text on how you were doing, and he had done the same in return regarding the team. He had asked if you were being looked after, and you had told him about Sandman. It brought you some comfort, having a line of communication back to the task force.

Sandman had been waiting for you in your flat after insisting he look after you. You had protested at first, stubbornly saying that you would manage. Then, as he spoke sense into you while you lay in the hospital bed, you realised he had a point.

The truth was, in this sprawling city, you had no family, no close friends, and nobody to look after you. You were injured, your movements reduced to a snail's pace, and your memory still played tricks on you due to the concussion. He was a medic and the closest thing to family you had. And so, you had told him where you kept the spare key - under a rock, just to be original - and he had taken leave the same day, arriving in Edinburgh a few hours before you had.

The moment you had seen your friend, stripped of his military uniform and making himself at home in your space, something inside you had broken. You had dropped your duffel bag by the entrance and crumbled into a fit of tears. All the pent-up emotions, anxieties, panic, and vulnerability that had been festering burst forth like a dam breach.

Your head had pounded as you sobbed, your sides clenching in pain. Sandman had grabbed your hands, as he always had, and squeezed them. Reminding you he was there, reminding you that you weren't alone anymore.

He had ushered you into the living room, helping you lay your shaking body onto the sofa, covering you with a blanket. He had kept holding your hands. Once you had calmed down, he had handed you a glass of water and your painkillers, and stayed with you as you fell into a restless slumber.

Now, you and Sandman were sat at the cozy kitchen table in your flat, both cradling steaming mugs in your hands. The sun's gentle morning rays filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the room. It was one of those tranquil moments when the world outside seemed to slow down.

As you took a sip of your coffee, the bitter warmth spread through your body, chasing away the remnants of sleep. You were an early riser from years of being in the military - Sandman was an early riser by nature. He had prepared the coffee just the way you liked it, and a berry tea for himself, the deep red colour reminding you of the fast approaching Autumn.

While you knew him as your closest friend, your confidant, you also knew him through many a story as a skilled combat medic, a legend in his own right. You remembered the first time the two of you had met, during his first shift on your old base together.

You had been running inventory together, taking apart the large stockrooms, counting each item. Sandman had been on the other side of the room, shifting through crutches. He was older than you, in his thirties. He stood at just over six feet tall, with curly brown hair, toffee brown eyes, and deep dimples in his cheeks when he smiled - which, you had noted in annoyance, seemed to be all the damn time.

After fifteen minutes or so of silence, he had tried to break the ice. 'So, Bones. That's an interesting name for a medic.'

You had only been back to work for a few weeks. The pain, the helplessness, the rage was still raw. Despite meetings with your assigned therapist, you hadn't yet managed to tame the agony that consumed your body and soul. And so you unleashed it on him as you spun around and said, 'Yeah, well, what kind of a name is Sandman?'