Ghost, in all truth, was very fucking relieved that he didn't have to be around for when Johnny had announced to his family that he'd be staying with him for his recovery.
It seemed only right that he stayed out of it. After all, they weren't his family to deal with.
Was that callous? Maybe he wouldn’t share that thought with Johnny.
But, not everything could be peaches and cream on the trip back to the house. There wasn't a chance in hell that they would manage to go this whole visit without bumping into at least one of Simon’s neighbours.
Maybe it’d be the family down the road, the little ones that always made a beeline to latch onto his legs while their parents talked to Simon about various DIY projects that had been going on around their house. Last time, the topic of interest had been their new bathroom tiles.
Or maybe it would be the old widow who lived opposite, who’d invite Simon around for tea every other day whenever he was on leave and, for some reason, Simon always found himself accepting the offer.
The more he thought about it, the less certain he felt about letting Johnny see this side of him. He didn't feel ready, but he wanted to be.
He wanted to be able to be gentle around Johnny, to show him that he was more than just the brutal soldier he’d been introduced to all that time ago. With the hesitancy, there was also excitement. He was excited to introduce Johnny to this part of his life, something about him that no one else had ever seen.
He was happy for Johnny to be his first, in one of many things, he was sure.
Johnny pulled him from his anxious thoughts with a little bit of snark, and Simon snorted out a laugh as he shook his head.
"Lucky I had to get my skull drained before my head popped open, you mean," he replied dryly, risking a glance at Johnny. He wore a strange look, one of worry and Simon wasn't quite sure what to do about it.
With one hand, he reached over and placed it on Johnny's undamaged thigh, giving the meaty flesh a gentle squeeze.
"Course I'll look after ya. As much as I can, anyway. Don't think you really want me doing the cooking, yeah? Might actually finish you off. Help you with everything else, though, I will. Dressing, undressing, showering…" With a suggestive little eyebrow raise, Simon gave his thigh another squeeze before he returned both hands to the wheel.
Johnny was reading the situation one hundred percent right. Simon was nervous. About everything, really. But, Johnny, as he always did, managed to ease those nerves with barely two sentences.
Simon replied with a firm nod and the corner of his lips curled up into a rather shy grin. He glanced away as he shoved his door open and stepped out. "Stay put, yeah? I’ll get the chair out of the boot, help you into it."
The door closed with a dull thud, leaving only Simon's coat bunched up on his seat in his place as he got to work getting the wheelchair, carefully folding it out before rounding the car and setting it as close as he could to Johnny's door.
Opening the door, he ducked down a touch to meet Johnny's eyes. Glancing between the Scot and the chair, he ran his tongue between his lips thoughtfully. “How do you fancy doing this, then? I’m pretty sturdy, you can use me to pull yourself up. Or, I can help you scoot out.”
The offer of picking him up was left unspoken, Johnny had rather visceral reactions to that in the past. But, Simon hoped he knew that if he did need—or even want—that kind of help, he'd jump into action.
"Whatever's best for you, yeah?"