#soapghost / #ghostsoap thoughts

hurt/comfort, anxiety attack

simon is a neat and organized person. after his first death, he decided to take everything into his hands, including the way things were organized.

his sheets are always tucked and folded, laundry always in-

folded neatly and put away after being done, desk always immaculately neat despite all the papers on it. his things are contained in dividers, file folders, and hidden storage bins.

his room is basically a recruit’s dream. -

but for the first time in his career with the 141, johnny sees that simon’s room is a mess.

his documents are scattered all over the desk, his knives are in a pile on his bed, and his drawers are open with some pieces of clothing clearly thrown out. it’s like a-

hurricane whirled through simon’s room and took him with it.

johnny hadn’t seen simon in a hot minute. last time they spoke was in the afternoon, before price had called his lt in to speak.

and he hadn’t seen him since. -

johnny stepped deeper into simon’s room. it was dark enough that he can barely make out the shapes he sees in the dark. it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. -

if simon didn’t want to be found, johnny would do his best to respect that, but simon had simply vanished and never came back. johnny took it upon himself to make sure he wasn’t alone when he didn’t want to be. -

johnny didn’t think he would find simon, but he saw a heap with a blanket over it. it was clearly him, with its size, but simon’s eyes were already on him: sharp, yet scared. simon didn’t speak when his eyes met johnny’s. he couldn’t bring himself to. -

johnny could make out his glassy eyes with the sparse moonlight that filtered through simon’s blinds. he had a neck gaiter on, the one he had worn in the morning. his eyes were covered in black paint, as if he had just come from a mission. -

he had a long sleeve on under the blanket, from what johnny could see. he even had gloves on.

horror flashed across simon’s face for a second, and johnny thought he was about to cry. instead, he retreated further into his blanket pile, and didn’t speak still. -

despite the trails of tears he also saw on simon’s face, he didn’t hear any crying. he didn’t really hear anything at all from simon.

and that terrified johnny. -

simon felt paralyzed.

some part of him felt weak. he was unable to control the hurt that made him wreck his room. it made him want to tear his skin out but instead of that, he settled for the next best option. -

he wanted to drown himself in his mistakes and find a way and reason to disappear. he had done it so many times that it wouldn’t be a problem. in and out. no one would notice, he thought. not even johnny.

johnny didn’t know what to do. he stood still, weighing his options. he ultimately decided on sitting next to simon. the floor creaked beneath his weight while simon watched him move for a small hole in his little fortress of blankets. -

simon’s heart was beating out his chest while a sob nearly ripped itself from his chest.

johnny being here was making him sadder and he didn’t fully understand why. -

simon wanted his comfort. he had always been that to him. even though they were seemingly opposites at first glance, simon was always within johnny’s orbit.

he had become familiar and safe. -

simon didn’t like the fear and hurt that intensified with johnny right next to him. it felt wrong. emotional pain and johnny didn’t mix together at all. -

but then, simon found himself reaching out of his blanket fortress. he grabbed johnny’s hand, slowly, waiting for him to pull away. johnny let simon take his hand. simon played with his fingers. he liked how they fit with his. -

johnny then played with simon’s hands back, massaging his pulse points.

“ow,” simon murmured.

“ye got a knot there, si.”

simon grit his teeth through the pain, but found that his hand felt a lot better, and his heart was much calmer. -

“do you want me to stay?”

simon removed his blanket from his head and leaned on johnnys shoulder. johnny then threaded his finger’s through simon’s hair, even if it was a bit sweaty. the cold air was a relief to simon. -

“wanna stay for a minute? i can also get you cleaned up and ready for bed,” johnny said softly.

simon squeezed his hand.

“a bath?”

simon nodded.

“can i carry you?”

simon nodded without thinking.

johnny was standing up, and next thing simon knew, -

he was clinging to his torso while he was pulled into a bridal carry.

johnny set him on the toilet, and began to run the water while simon hugged himself.

johnny had never seen simon so /small/. it hurt to realize that he was too scared to ask for help. -

it was horrible to realize how quiet simon was through the whole ordeal. johnny thought of all the reasons he was quiet, and didn’t like any of them. he didn’t even make a sound when johnny asked him things. but simon didn’t need to speak anyways, -

johnny would stick with him.

simon thought johnny was a dream. he almost always knew what to say and what to do. he knew how to get simon back on track and how to calm him down. he’d never had this comfort. he didn’t like thinking about it for too long. -

but here johnny, with his loving hands and heart. and it felt selfish to want him, but he did anyways.

(end)

i wrote this on impulse because im a little sad to take this hurt comfort 👍 i like the idea of johnny and simon knowing how to help each other out on and off the field. whether simon is stuck in an anxiety attack for hours or. johnny is slipping into a depression -

episode, i would think they know to create things like contingency plans so that they could get a feel of what the other needs to calm down; it’s different for them both, but they understand each other nonetheless. it’s also past midnight, i have school and work-

thank you for reading :)