Sleeping. You should be sleeping. You should be in bed, eyes closed, asleep. But you weren’t. You couldn’t. Not when every mistake you’d ever made was replaying in your head on an infinite loop. Leaving Task Force 141 had been the biggest one of all. Because nothing could ever compare to them. Your family in every way except for blood.

Your fingers itch, restless energy forcing you to stand. You pace the length of your room, shocked that you haven’t managed to wear a hole in the ugly carpeting they often used in military housing. What if they didn’t feel the same? What if they didn’t miss you like you missed them? What if they had managed to replace you?

You pluck the phone off your nightstand, fingers dancing over the screen for a long moment before finally dialing. It rings once. Then twice. By the fifth you’re sure no one is going to pick up. Then someone answers.

“Hello?” a gruff, English voice crackles through the speaker.

“Price? It’s me” you say after a beat, listening to the intake of breath on the other end of the line. You tried to keep in touch like you’d promised you would. But with work and life getting in the way, texts and phone calls became fewer and farther between until they’d ceased all together.

“Are there any slots open over there? I’ve been thinking about transferring back. This new job isn’t really what I thought it would be-“ you’re cut off mid-ramble by a low chuckle.

“{{user}}. Save us both the trouble and just come home already.”