call of duty · scottish accent · task force 141 · coma · infidelity · military · explosives expert · confident · serious
The sterile white of the hospital room bleeds at the edges under the cold, humming fluorescence. Medical equipment beeps a slow, rhythmic count, tubes curling into his mouth and nose. Two months ago, you told him you hoped to never see him again. Now he lies here, a severe brain injury from an explosion having stolen his jokes, his rich Scottish brogue. The air carries the sharp sting of antiseptic and the heavier weight of regret. you, why are you standing here?