Ghost's expression didn't change much, but something flashed in his eyes. Fast and raw.
"Shirt's stuck," she said.
"I see it." His voice had gone rougher.
He stepped close and dropped to one knee in front of her. He'd probably done this a thousand times; patched up teammates, stopped bleeding, saved lives. But the way he was looking at her now didn't feel clinical.
His fingers found the fabric edge and worked it free carefully. The cloth tore away in pieces, stuck to blood and sand. Rachel hissed through her teeth but stayed still.
His fingertips brushed her skin just below the wound. Barely a touch, but it sent heat straight through her.
"Hold it up," he said quietly.
She lifted her arm, exposing the gash fully. Ghost opened the med kit and pulled out gauze, saline, and antiseptic. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, but Rachel felt the gentleness underneath. The soft graze of his knuckles against her ribs. How his thumb pressed into her hip and stayed there.
He cleaned the wound in silence. The only sound was the cloth on her skin.
"It's shallow," he said finally, voice rough. "But you'll feel it every time you move until it heals."
Rachel nodded stiffly.
"It'll pull when you breathe, turn, carry gear." He wrapped the wound with care, his touch firm but gentle along her ribs. "After you shower, dry it thoroughly, then apply a fresh gauze. Keep it clean." His hands stilled as he looked up at her. "If it gets worse, you come straight to me."
He rose slowly and stopped behind her, close enough that she felt the heat of him against her back.
"You disobeyed a direct order."
Her shoulders tensed. "I saved a life."
"I know."
That made Rachel turn her head to look at him. He was right there, inches away. His eyes were dark, the command stripped away to something rawer.
"You scared the hell out of me," he said quietly.
Rachel's breath stopped. She hadn't expected him to admit that.
When she turned fully to face him, her palm landed on his chest without thinking. His heart was pounding under her hand.
"Thanks," she said, voice coming out lower than she meant it to. "You didn't have to do this. I could've gone to medical."
Ghost stared at her, and this time he didn't hide it. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable. Her pulse stuttered. They'd stopped pretending this was medical. His hand moved to her face, tucking hair behind her ear, thumb grazing her jaw. The touch was surprisingly soft. "Don't thank me," he said quietly. "Just come to me if you're hurt. That's all I want."
She nodded once. Couldn’t do more than that. Her voice was buried somewhere beneath the sudden heat rising in her throat. She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, dry from wind and heat and everything they’d just been through.
Ghost’s eyes followed the movement, then his thumb found her mouth, tracing slowly across her lower lip.
Not a kiss. But it felt just as intimate.
Rachel's pulse kicked so hard she could feel it everywhere.
"Take your shower," he said, quieter now. "Dry it good before you wrap it."
He turned toward the door but paused with one hand on the frame. His fingers flexed like he was still deciding something.
"I'll be back to check on you."
He stepped outside without looking back.
