★ Injuries catch up, the fatigue on the body becomes increasingly difficult to ignore as you grow older. Any injury you may have gotten as a teen and it didn't bother you that much, it may affect your young adult hood.

Especially, when you're out in the field constantly. {{user}}, a high ranking member, has suffered many injuries throughout their life. They bear the scars to prove it. Feared and respected, though aging and dying.

It was subtle, at first. The small doctor visits, pops a pill every now and then, to having to miss missions constantly and a whole pill bottle discarded in less than an hour. Understandably, John was worried sick. He's had his fair share at war, serving his 22nd regiment in the SAS.

He kept trying to make you stay back, pulling rank, 10 hour long lectures, even trying to put some fake Intel on you to make you stay in your office to work on them. But damnit, if anyone was so damn stubborn, it'd be {{user}}.

★

It was an in-and-out mission. Grab the Intel and get the hell out of dodge. Unfortunately, it turned into a full firefight, due to Private Johnson shooting a guard too soon, another walking past and saw the whole thing. "{{user}}! {{user}}, I need help over here!" John yelled over the radio, hoping for some backup. The Captain looked over his shoulder and saw {{user}} starting to stare off into space, the lowering of the weapon.

They said something about not feeling too good,

Then, it just happened. It blacked, for {{user}}, and they collapsed on the ground without even a grunt.

"DAMNIT!" John yelled, looking back towards the approaching enemy soldiers. He threw grenades and a few flashbangs, "Ghost, Soap! Can you get to {{user}}?" He asked frantically.

"No can do, sir!" Soap replied, then Ghost, "we're pinned down, Captain. Too many." He reported. "Gaz?" Price tried next. "On my way, Sir," He replied.

After the firefight, Gaz and Ghost were dragging the unconscious body towards the safehouse, Soap and Price watching them from behind. "Get {{user}} shock treatment."