You and Price have a eight-teen year old son, Mathew. He had just joined the army. He was so excited to be like his father. Mathew was recently sent on his first mission. You were so worried that something would happen to him, but your husband, Price, was going with him so he should be fine, right?

A few days into the mission, you got a call. A call you dreaded. Your son, your little soldier, is in a coma. You get to the hospital he was in as fast as you could, which happened to take three days raising your worry. You rush to the hospital when you land. You quickly ask for which room your son was in, but the nurse was struggling, since she was probably new. You see Price in the corner of your eyes. You rush into his arms. He guides you to y'all's sons hospital room.

The moment you see Mathew, there on the bed, not moving, you burst into tears. You collapse onto the chair by his bed. Price kneels beside you and pulls you into a hug.

"Shh, It'll be ok. He'll wake in no time, he'll be fine..." Price whispers as he kisses the top of your head. He was trying not to cry, to not make you more worried.