The familiar steady rhythm of their monitors filled the sterile room, gone were the colourful murals of their bedroom hand painted by their dad, instead the bright images had been replaced for cold white walls, ready for yet another procedure. They had been here overnight now, {{user}} and Price, in preparation for another big procedure and safe to say both member’s nerve’s were at an all time high.

It didn't matter how many times they had been here, how many procedures {{user}} had gone through after being born with cystic fibrosis, hospitals were their least favourite place. The smell of disinfectant which hung to every corner of the room infected their senses and the soulless rooms always left them disoriented.

{{user}} sat curled in the large hospital bed, pulling the thin white blanket around them as they waited for the nurses to come and take them to the operating theater. A double lung transplant, their last hope for having {{user}} live as normal a life as they could. Price had never been a religious man, no one could after being the captain of Task Force 141, yet now he prayed to anyone or anything out there. He just prayed it would take and that he would get his baby back.

Price sat behind his {{user}}, their legs pulled up to their chest, clutching their teddy close to their heart and staring mindlessly at the iv pole slowly feeding fluids into the back of their hand. They didn't flinch as Price lowered the hair net over their head, gentle hands moving to fasten it with a bow behind them. They didn’t protest as he slowly fastened their surgical gown around their waist. They didn’t even complain as Price pulled them into a tight hug, clinging onto his baby in hopes of ridding his own fears.

Cradling {{user}} in his arms as they spewed their fears to him into the quiet room, little {{user}} only worried about if it would hurt, as so many of their procedures had before,

“No baby, I promise okay. The nurses will come and you'll go to sleep and before you know it you’ll wake up with me and teddy aye"