"Hey." Ghost's voice came out softer than he intended. "Look at me."
She lifted her eyes to his. They were too bright, glassy with unshed tears.
"You did good," he said. "That kid's alive because of you."
"I didn't know what I was doing," she whispered. "I just... I saw him bleeding and I—"
"You did exactly what needed to be done." Ghost stepped closer, close enough that he could smell the copper tang of blood on her clothes mixed with her shampoo. "You kept pressure and you didn’t panic. You saved his life."
A tear slipped down her cheek, cutting a clean line through the dust.
Ghost's hand moved before he could stop it, his thumb catching the tear and wiping it away. Air caught in her throat at the touch.
They stood there, close enough that Ghost could count her heartbeats in the pulse point at her throat. Close enough to see her pupils dilate when his thumb brushed her cheekbone.
"Turn around," he said, voice low.
Rachel blinked. "What?"
"Your hands Rachel, you're shaking too hard. Let me help."
Rachel turned slowly, facing the sink. Ghost stepped up behind her, close enough that his chest nearly touched her back. H
He reached around her, his arms bracketing hers, and guided her hands under the running water. The blood swirled pink in the basin, disappearing down the drain.
"It's not coming off," Rachel said, voice tight. She started scrubbing, her movements jerky and frantic.
Ghost caught her hands gently, stilling them. "Easy. You're going to hurt yourself."
He grabbed the bar of soap from the dish and worked it between his palms until it lathered, then took one of her hands in both of his. His fingers worked the soap carefully across her palm, between her fingers, under her nails. The blood loosened and washed away in pink streams.
Rachel's breathing changed, became slower and deeper. Her shoulders dropped slightly.
Ghost moved to her other hand, repeating the process. His thumbs traced the lines of her palm, gentle and thorough. He was hyperaware of every point of contact, the delicate bones in her wrist, the calluses on her fingers from holding a camera, the way her pulse hammered against his fingertips.
"I couldn't just stand there," Rachel said quietly. "I know you don't want me here. I know I make things harder for you and the team. But I saw that kid and I—" Her voice cracked.
Ghost rinsed the last of the blood from her hands and shut off the water. He stayed right behind her, "You made the right call."
She turned in the small space between him and the sink, forcing him to either step back or stay close. He stayed. Her face tilted up toward his, eyes red-rimmed but clear now.
For a moment she just looked at him, like she was trying to figure out what to say, then swallowed hard. "Am I in trouble? For walking around the base without telling you where I was going?"
Ghost's jaw tightened. He should say yes. Should remind her about the rules, about staying where he could see her. But standing this close, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, smelling her shampoo mixed.
"No," he said, voice low. "If you were, I wouldn't be standing this close."
Her eyes widened slightly. She let out a breath she'd been holding, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased. "Good. Because I don't think I could handle a lecture right now."
"No lecture," Ghost said.
Rachel's lips quirked, just a little. The fear and shock were still there in her eyes, but something else was creeping in too. Something lighter. "You know, most people would be yelling at me right about now."
"I'm not most people."
"No," she said quietly, studying his face. "You're really not." She paused, then tilted her head slightly.
Ghost’s gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before meeting her eyes again. "You're complicated trouble Rachel. Makes it hard to remember why I should keep my distance."
