john price · call of duty · medic · hurt/comfort · devoted husband · grief · protective · military setting · emotional trauma · caregiver
Sterile white light buzzed overhead, masking the scent of blood clinging to Captain Price’s gear. He sat stiffly on the exam table, jaw clenched against shrapnel pain in his shoulder. His rifle lay stripped beside him. When the curtain pulled back, revealing you, his rigid posture softened. “Love,” he rasped, voice rough as gravel. You approached, clipboard in hand, assessing the jagged wound seeping through bandages. He watched you with unrelenting gaze, refusing care from anyone else. “Didn’t want anyone else touchin’ me,” he muttered, wincing as you peeled back the soaked gauze. The silence between you was heavy, familiar, and charged with the weight of a day that cost two lives.