A Living Shield (John Price x OC/Reader slowburn)

Prelude - A Wraith's Last Memories

[Song 🎵: Džanum - Teya Dora]

Your sight was blurry. Chin rested against your chest, as your form slouched in the chair you were bound to.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt this broken.

Blood trickled down your temple, bruising started to blotch your skin in a sickening array of colours. Your breathing was heavy as you tried to get oxygen through your now clogged nose. The sound of it was raspy and strained.

It sounded like you were dying. And from the way your eyesight blurred ever so often, you expected you weren't far off either.

Never thought I'd end up dying bound to a chair. Not the type of bondage I wish was digging into my wrists.

Soap would have laughed at that one. You tried letting out a dry chuckle at your own uncaring thoughts for your wellbeing but the air got caught in your throat. Nearly choking on your own blood that was being sent up your oesophagus, you spat it out to the best of your abilities. Your body was nearing its capacity of what it could physically take.

From what you had gathered when you were first brought here, there weren't any windows in this stale concrete box. Just a door and vents, so no daylight that showed you any passage of time. The buzzing sound of the fluorescent lights above your head had been your only companion so far.

It drove you nuts in the beginning. The sound digging in deep like an earwig never willing to settle. But now? You didn't have the energy to notice it anymore.

The silence outside of the room indicated long ago that you weren't in the bustling city any longer. You had tried your best to gain some sense of location, but to no avail. All you could think of was the outskirts of town, perhaps the slums.

They had made sure to drag you far away from where your team had last seen you, after you surrendered willingly.

You weren't sure if it had been hours or days, but it couldn't have been longer than a week. You were fed as little as possible but enough to sustain you for 2 to 3 days at a time you'd suspected.

The human body would crave food on a regular basis according to the routine you submitted it to. But there was no routine in here. Only the endless coming and going of people who tried breaking your silence and your body along with it.

Everything was aching. They had been subjecting you to all kinds and methods of interrogating, with little to show for. It was nothing short of torture at this point, as they seemed to resort to desperate measures. You could tell they left the room more agitated and discouraged every time, with you giving them nothing to go on.

You can keep trying as much as you'd like, hermanos, but I'm wasting your time.

You tilted your head backwards, unable to hold it up any longer. The room spun almost instantly, as if your mind wasn't able to comprehend what was up or down anymore.

You had been waiting like this. Waiting for them to come back to you eventually. They always came in irregular intervals. Textbook interrogation methods, nothing you hadn't been trained for.

You could almost hear Captain Price's voice go over the procedure, as if he was in the room with you, just walking around you. You closed your eyes, savoring the trick your brain was playing on you.

"Give your captive time to breathe without them knowin' how long you'll be gone for. It maximizes anxiety and doesn't allow them to ever lose an edge. Lettin' the fear settle in. Mentally breaks 'em surprisingly fast if you do it well."

Of all the things I can hallucinate him saying, and I decided on a lecture. Can't believe I find this comforting.

You tried not to focus on the heavy feeling that threatened to settle on your chest, as you willed your eyes open again. You didn't want to acknowledge it.  It felt like something was sitting right on top of you. You were pretty sure you had a collapsed lung, but somehow that wasn't the cause.

The last thing you needed now was sentiment. It was too late for it anyway.

But you didn't care. They could try whatever they wanted on you, it didn't matter. You did what you had to do, your job was already done. They just didn't know it yet. You wondered how long they would keep coming at you like this.

Before they'd realise you weren't gonna talk. Before they realised no one was coming for you. Or before your body gave out.

I'm quite literally a dead end. How fitting for a wraith.

Your restraints had started digging into your skin a while ago. The rope so soaked with dried blood, it partially stuck to your ruptured skin. You tried adjusting yourself to relieve the sting, only for your midriff to protest heavily against your plea for relief.

They had broken or bruised most of your ribs by now, their punches usually landing in the soft of your stomach before they switched back to your face. Or whatever other soft tissue they could find.

You sat through it in silence every round, never giving them the satisfaction of seeing you break. Lieutenant Ghost taught you better than that.

Granted you weren't always conscious. Your body couldn't handle it sometimes as it tried to protect itself by shutting down the brain. A meager attempt to close off all input.

Whenever you awoke, more blood and more immense pain coated your body. You felt pathetic every time you felt like giving in to the pain. You had chosen this path yourself. Enduring it to the end was the least you could do. If not for you, then for your captain.

All you'd ever wanted, was to be worthy in his eyes. Eyes you'd never look into again. Eyes that would never show you that glimmer of humour again, whenever you dared question his command.

You had tried to avoid it, but the reality of it all, was that this was it. It was sinking in fast and you were falling with it despite your efforts to thwart it.

No goodbyes. No last words, no familiar voice to ever grace your ears again. Not from Price, not from any of your team.

Your family.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you tried blinking them away, your eyes and face swollen from the onslaught it had endured.

You had once lost everyone dear to you. It was a bitter feeling to know that even though you were the one that left the 141, you still lost another family in the process.

You didn't regret your actions, nor any of your choices. You would have died for any of the guys in a heartbeat.

For Soap, the sturdy yet enthusiastic pillar you could lean on from day one. Someone that taught you what true family felt like.

For Gaz, the sarcastic friend you couldn't imagine living without again. The most loyal and honest person you'd ever met.

Even for Ghost, the ever stoic but effortlessly dependable lieutenant, who listened to you intently without question.

And if not most of all, for Price. The man you looked up to beyond anything. The man that made your blood boil. Yet also your irrefutable soft spot. Your captain.

If only it could have gone differently.

"But it can't", you muttered, as your voice broke ever so subtly. Your grief swallowed silently by the concrete walls around you.

You lost consciousness as your mind found desperate shelter in its memories, hoping to fade painlessly, in whatever time was left.