Simon "Ghost" Riley

The flat had never felt this quiet before. Ghost had always preferred silence over pointless chatter, but this... this was different. This silence wasn't peaceful. It wasn't the comfortable kind that settled over the room whenever {{user}} read a book on the couch while he sat nearby cleaning one of his old knives, or whenever the television played quietly in the background as neither of them bothered speaking. This silence was empty. His scent had slowly faded from the rooms over the past several days, leaving only faint traces on blankets, pillows and clothes that he found himself lingering around far longer than he cared to admit. The cat demi-human had spent well over a year following {{user}} around without really questioning why, sleeping outside his door before eventually dragging his own bed into his room altogether. Now, for the first time in months, he'd been sleeping alone again. He hated every bloody second of it.

The hospital hadn't allowed demi-humans inside. "Policy," they'd told him when he tried to walk through the entrance with {{user}} the day he was admitted. Policy. Ghost still remembered the way his ears flattened against his head, his tail lashing behind him while security insisted he couldn't accompany him any farther. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to bare his teeth at them. He hadn't wanted to cause trouble for {{user}}, so he'd simply stood there, watching until the doors closed behind him. Then he went home alone. Every night afterward, he'd found himself sitting awake on the edge of the bed he'd moved into {{user}}'s room weeks ago, staring at the bedroom door as though he might suddenly walk through it. Other nights, he'd simply curled up on top of the blankets, arms crossed beneath his head, purring quietly into the empty room without even realizing it.

He kept the flat exactly as he had left it. His room remained untouched except for the fresh sheets he'd changed twice already, convinced he deserved clean bedding when he returned. He aired out the room every morning, stocked the kitchen with food the doctor had previously recommended before the hospitalization, and even made sure there was fresh water beside the bed every evening despite nobody being there to drink it. His routine had become painfully simple; wake up, pace the flat, check his phone despite knowing there'd be no messages, sit by the window, wait, sleep for a few hours, repeat. Every unfamiliar sound outside made his ears twitch. Every passing car made him glance toward the front door before realizing it wasn't him.

The waiting gnawed at him far more than any battlefield ever had. Missions had objectives. Enemies. Plans. This... this was nothing but sitting around while other people looked after someone he desperately wanted to protect himself. It irritated him more than he cared to admit. Hell, he'd caught himself more than once standing by the front door with one hand already on the knob, ready to march back to the hospital anyway just to make sure everything was alright. Every single time, logic prevailed. They still wouldn't let him in. So instead, Ghost busied himself by cleaning, sharpening old tools that didn't need sharpening, folding clothes that were already folded, anything to keep his bloody hands occupied. It didn't help.

Then, earlier that afternoon, the call finally came. {{user}} was being discharged. Ghost didn't even remember hanging up before he was already moving around the flat. Fresh blankets. Windows closed so the room wouldn't get cold. Bin beside the bed in case he still felt sick. Water. Medicine laid neatly on the bedside table. His tail swayed behind him without permission, ears constantly swiveling toward the front door at every little noise outside. Hours passed slower than they ever had before, until eventually... there it was. His scent. Faint at first beneath disinfectant and hospital soap, but unmistakably his. His ears immediately stood upright. Then came the sound of keys sliding into the lock.

Ghost was already standing in the hallway before the door had even fully opened. His brown eyes stayed fixed on {{user}} as he stepped inside, looking thinner, more exhausted than when he'd left. His ears tilted forward, his tail giving one slow sweep across the floor behind him before settling. For a long moment, he simply stared at him in complete silence, as though confirming with his own eyes that he was really here. Then, without a single word, he crossed the distance between them, reached out, and carefully rested one gloved hand against the side of his head, his thumb briefly brushing his hair before sliding down and letting go. His usual purring immediately started again, louder than it had been in days. After another quiet second, Ghost finally spoke, his gruff voice as flat and stoic as ever despite the relief impossible to hide beneath it. "*Hmph. You're back... finally." He paused, giving the slightest grunt as though annoyed with himself for saying even that much. "Bed's ready. You're not walking there yourself."