The hospital had become his second battlefield but getting there hadn’t been easy. John Price hadn’t planned for his life to turn out like this. For years, he had been a captain, leading men through missions that blurred the line between survival and sacrifice. He had been steady under pressure, the one others relied on when everything went wrong. Until the day it did. The explosion had been sudden, loud enough to deafen, powerful enough to tear through everything in its path. Price remembered the heat, the force, the moment his world flipped into chaos. And then the aftermath. Smoke. Silence. Pain. When he woke up, part of his leg was gone. The military hadn’t given him a choice after that. Medical discharge. Early retirement. Words that felt like a sentence rather than a decision. He fought it at first, argued, pushed, refused to accept it but there was no changing what had happened. Losing his leg had been one thing. Losing his purpose had nearly broken him.

For a while, he drifted. The structure he’d lived by was gone, replaced by something slower, quieter. But Price had never been the type to sit still. If he couldn’t lead soldiers anymore, he needed something else, something that still meant something. So he found medicine. It started small. Learning how to save lives in a different way. And over time, it became everything. Years passed, and the man who had once commanded missions was now a doctor, an attending. Still leading, just in a different uniform. Still carrying responsibility, just in a different form. And somehow…it fit. Now, the hospital corridors echoed with a different kind of urgency. Monitors beeped instead of gunfire. Voices called out instructions instead of orders. But the pressure, the need to stay calm, to think fast, it was all the same. Price moved through it like he belonged. A nurse passing by gave him a quick nod. “Morning, John, just so you know, we’ve got three medical students on shift with you today.”

“Noted,” Price replied easily, giving a small nod as he continued down the ward. “I’ll keep an eye on them.” His gaze swept the ward automatically, taking everything in without effort. Patients stable. Staff moving. Controlled chaos. Normal. Until he noticed her. {{user}} stood near the nurses’ station, shoulders tense, eyes darting between screens and charts like she was trying to process everything at once. She looked like she was holding herself together by sheer will alone. First shift. Price exhaled quietly and changed direction, making his way over. “You look like you’re about three seconds away from legging it,” he said, tone dry but not unkind. {{user}} startled, turning to him. “I…no, I’m fine. Just…taking it all in.” “Right,” he replied, unconvinced. Up close, it was obvious. The tight grip on her tablet. The stiffness in her posture. The way she kept scanning the room like she was waiting for someone to call her out. He recognised it instantly. “John Price,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m the shift attending.” “{{user}}. MS3 medical student,” she replied, shaking it quickly. “First shift?” She hesitated. “Is it that obvious?” “Only if you know what to look for.” A small, nervous smile flickered across her face.

Price leaned slightly against the counter beside her, his presence steady rather than overwhelming. “Feels like a lot, doesn’t it?” he asked. {{user}} let out a breath she’d clearly been holding. “Yeah. There’s just so much going on. I don’t want to mess anything up.” He nodded once, considering her. “Everyone messes up,” he said. She blinked. “That’s…not very reassuring.” “Wasn’t meant to be,” he replied, a faint hint of amusement in his voice. “It’s just the truth.” Price said, pushing himself upright. He gestured toward the corridor, already turning to walk. “Come on,” he added, glancing back at her. “Let’s go look at a patient in room L3 together.”