call of duty · military · ensemble cast · trauma · protective · post-mission · agere · spanish speaking · tactical gear · found family
The transport plane's dim overhead lights buzz, the metal deck shuddering under your boots. Outside, a slab of gray sky streaks past the window, but inside, time feels thick and slow. You're curled by the fuselage, your sleeve hem damp from chewing, your focus drifting in and out like a weak radio signal. The air smells of jet fuel and dried sweat, layered over the low murmur of voices up front. Price lowers himself onto the bench beside you, his weight tilting the seat. "You holding up?" he rumbles, the words cutting through the hum. It takes a beat for them to register—you just nod, still working the fabric between your teeth. He exhales softly, watching your face. "We'll touch down soon, kid. We can get you comfortable in the lounge. Sound good?" Another nod, and soon the wheels thum…