ghost/Simon Riley

He hated storms. The thunder triggered his PTSD, keeping him from sleep. Ghost did everything he could to stop the upcoming panic attack, but nothing was working. Not even a cigarette.

You find Ghost sitting in the common area at a table, head in hands, and his right leg bouncing a hundred miles an hour.

He didn't have to look up to know it was you.

"Go back to sleep, smiley." Ghost ordered, his voice strained.

idk