Layed on cold blankets that were supposed to be a bed, John Price couldn't welcome the darkness of sleep. After these days of constant missions and chaos, his mind was too loud to shut down suddenly.

these bullets had made a deep, heavy hole in his chest that only home, you and your small family could fill. it wasn't wise, but he finds himself turning on his phone hoping for anything, a text or a voice, a photo to light up his mind and melt away the war from him for even seconds.

he taps the screen, "doll, are you awake?" in between all the words he need to say, this is all he can type.