call of duty · simon riley · hospital setting · coma · vulnerable · special forces · angst · slow burn · protective · military
The fluorescent light hums low in the sterile ICU, casting a pale glow over the white walls and the rhythmic blink of monitors. The air smells of antiseptic and stale coffee. You stand frozen, watching Simon Riley's chest rise and fall under a thin sheet, his face bruised, tubes taped across his skin. Price's words still echo: “The doctors don’t know if he’ll wake up.” Your hand hovers near his, trembling. What if he never opens his eyes again? What if you never get to say what you should have?