POV Ghost

She looks so incredibly thin. Her skin is paler, her cheeks are sunken and he can clearly see two dark circles under her eyes. Her once short black hair is now a pure mess as if she hasn't cared for it in a long time. Ghost needs a moment to realize that Amalia is really standing in front of him. Soap had tried to prepare him for this, but he didn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. But now that he's standing in front of her. She takes a step forward and wraps her thin arms around him. His cheek still burns. He immediately presses the young woman against his body. He felt sick when he felt her ribs despite her clothes. His grip immediately tightens. Just the thought of what she's had to go through over the last few years. He should never have gotten involved in it. Not like that, not with her. He felt Bones sneaking around his legs.

Amalia begins to sob quietly as she holds on to the soldier. His heart begins to tighten again. He feels cheeky. He bends down a little, wraps his arms around her waist, and lifts her without any problems. She was even lighter than before. He carefully begins to make his way into the dark apartment. He was immediately hit by a terrible stench. It didn't smell like anything was rotting. It's more like someone hadn't cleaned up for a long time, never opened the windows, and just let everything around them go to waste.

"Bones, bring me the bags!" he says over his shoulder to the dog. It was a little trick that Amalia had learned back then and it was even more useful now. The dog followed his commands. Amalia wraps her arms around his neck and presses her face into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel her hands clawing at the pull. Ghost looks around. The hallway was small and he could easily see where things were. The worst smell came from the kitchen, so he passed it by for now. On the opposite side is the bathroom, next to what he was looking for, the living room.

Ghost walks towards the sofa and sits down carefully. It appears to be one of the only rooms left completely alone. There weren't even any pictures on the wall. It had furniture and that was it. It almost looked like something out of a catalog, no, it even felt less personal and smelled new. He looks carefully down at the still-shaking woman. She's still attached to him. "Amalia?" he asks quietly. Her grip immediately tightens. She was afraid. She was afraid that he would leave again, that she would be alone again. A wave of regret washes over him again. He simply shouldn't have done any of this. "It's all good, I'm not going anymore. But you need help. Where is your first aid kit?" His voice was loving and careful.

Amalia continues to cling to him. Letting go would mean she has to think and she didn't want that right now. The soldier carefully strokes her hair. "Amalia, look at me!" but his voice still sounds serious. It was the gentle kind he never used, except with her. Your gaze slowly moves upwards until it stops. Her eyes were blurred, no longer shining as they once did. The pain hits him again with full force. He hates himself for doing this to her. "It's okay. I'll be right back, you just have to tell me where he is!" His hands gently take hers and begin to remove them from his sweater.

Her hands immediately start shaking and she tries to hold on to him, but he won't let her. "I'll be right back, I promise you, just tell me where the first aid kit is." He was starting to worry if she even had one. But her accommodation was paid for by the military, there had to be one here somewhere. "In the bathroom!" Her voice sounds so incredibly strange. It was rough, broken, unused. "OK!" He whispers, placing his hands carefully on her knees. In the bathroom.

He takes a step back and then hurries into the small bathroom. It was actually behind the door he thought. A dull smell hits him from there too. Like stale water. It takes him a moment to find the small box under the sink. He immediately grabs it and goes back into the living room.

Bones had now arrived at Amalia. He had put the bags somewhere to the side and was now trying to calm her shaking legs. Her fingers have begun to interlock, her nails have begun to dig into her nail wall. He could already see blood coming out. He immediately goes back to her and kneels on the arch in front of her. His hands close around hers. "Hey, hey, stop it!" he says gently and looks up at her. She immediately freezes in her movements again and just stares at the other person for a moment. Her hand immediately tries to reach for his again. She opens her mouth to say something, but no sound leaves her throat. She just looks at him.

"I am here!" He says gently and just squeezes her hand gently. He opens his hand slightly to take off his gloves. "Show me your arm!" He whispers quietly and carefully releases and grabs her wrist. She still doesn't say anything. She just watches him for a moment. As he opens the box, he begins to wipe away the blood and look at the many small scars on her skin. He wants to say something, ask them why, confront them. But he knows that it wouldn't help, he knows that he would make it worse. It wasn't her fault after all. It was his, only his. If he hadn't gotten involved in the mess back then, this wouldn't have happened. Then he would kneel here, in front of her, and wipe the blood away.

He takes out one of the larger bandages and carefully sticks it on her arm. "What happened back then?" she finally whispers. Ghost almost didn't expect her to say anything anymore, so he just lifted his head for a moment and looked up at her. "A big, stupid mistake!" he finally whispers.

______________________________________________________________________________

Hello again!

Grammaly is yelling at me, that I have at least 22 Mistakes still left, but since I am not willing to pay for them, you guys will have to live with it (I am so so so so sorry about it)

Half of the chapter was written at the same time as the two before, and the other half after I got a normal amount of sleep. I hope you enjoy both. 

Love,

Devil