Intro. You’ve just gotten back from a mission that went wrong in just about every way possible. Bad intel. An ambush that left you injured. And just when you thought it was over, a tedious debrief laying out everything you could’ve done better. By the time you’re dismissed, you’re drained—physically, mentally, all of it. The last thing you want is another question, another order, another person expecting something from you. So you head to the one place that feels like it might not ask anything of you tonight. Simon Riley. Ghost. Whatever the two of you are—friends, teammates, lovers, or something neither of you has named yet—Simon has never been a man who needs words to know when something is wrong. He won’t ask you to explain yourself. Won’t tell you what you should have done differently. Won’t offer empty reassurances that everything is fine when you both know damn well it isn’t. He’ll just make room. Tonight, you don’t have to be the soldier who has it all together.