Chapter 2

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D arkness swallowed me whole.

The pain in my head was crushing, and my eyes couldn’t make out a damn thing beyond the gloom. My mind kept slipping, fading into the abyss. I had to fight to stay conscious, but it felt like a losing battle.

I’d been run over by a tank, or so it seemed, with a weird pressure around my neck, like someone had me in a chokehold. My head throbbed like a motherfucker, the sharp, metallic tang of blood triggering scattered memories of violence and excruciating pain.

Then it hit me—I was still alive.

The sounds around me were a garbled mess, voices too incoherent to make out. Loud footsteps reverberated down a corridor as someone dragged me somewhere unknown. Fucking fantastic.

Suddenly, I was tossed onto a cold, hard table. The bite of the icy surface sent shockwaves through my wounded flesh. I could feel the trickle of blood, the faint whisper of life draining from me. A voice, distant but sharp, pierced through the haze.

“He’s bad... really bad.”

I tried to focus, but each pulse in my head was like a hammer to my skull. Snippets of conversation reached me through the fog.

“We don’t have enough doctors... It’s a massacre out there!” The words bounced around in my skull, but I couldn’t make sense of them. I felt myself drifting, ready to embrace the darkness again.

“I know this hurts, but I need to check the extent of the damage to your skull.” The voice was soft, feminine, soothing. It pulled me back, dragging me out of the black void.

My skull pounded, each beat a fresh wave of agony. As I opened my eyes, the sterile, white walls of a medical room greeted me. The place reeked of antiseptic and fear, cold and impersonal, like a morgue. A guy in a white coat hovered over me. For a second, I thought I was back in Afghanistan, but this wasn’t some roadside bomb aftermath.

“Where am I?” I croaked, my throat raw and dry.

“Easy, soldier,” someone said, calm and reassuring, like an angel from above. But I wasn’t a soldier anymore, just a fucking ghost.

I tried to sit up, but the world spun like a carnival ride gone wrong. My head felt like it had been split in two. When my vision cleared, I noticed bandages, needles—medical shit everywhere. The room pulsed with a fucked-up energy, the steady beep of machines only adding to the unease.

Around me, chaos reigned. Doctors and nurses rushed back and forth, barely keeping up with the carnage. I glimpsed the broken bodies of soldiers, their hollow eyes staring back at me, filled with the horror of war.

Their limbs twisted, flesh torn apart. We were strangers, thrown into this hellhole together. Identity didn’t mean shit anymore. We were all faceless fucks, just pawns in this endless game of war.

“If you stop moving, it’ll hurt less,” the doctor muttered, frustration edging into their voice. Her hands moved over me, poking and prodding like I was some kind of science project.

“I’m sorry,” I snickered, “did you expect me to stay still while you butcher me?” It took everything in me not to launch myself off that table and deck her.

I gritted my teeth, trying to hold back the rising fury. Doc sighed, shaking her head, her expression hardened.

“You’ve been butchered by your enemies. I’m trying to save your life,” she snapped, her voice even but sharp.

“You think you’re doing me a favor?” I shot back, sarcasm lacing my words. “Just let me fucking die.”

“I’m doing my job,” Doc said, her tone unwavering. “Suck it up.”

I chuckled bitterly. “My job is killing people,” I muttered. “Seems like we’re both in the wrong line of work.”

The cold bite of surgical tools sent a shiver down my spine as they pressed against my skin. Painkillers dulled the edges, but I could still feel the pinch of tweezers as they dug out the fragments of metal embedded in my flesh. The strange, detached sensation should’ve been unbearable, but instead, I welcomed it.

The steady hum of medical instruments was interrupted by the sharp sound of fabric tearing. I cracked open my eyes. Doc’s hands were drenched in my blood as they cut away the soaked cloth covering my wound.

“This will hurt,” she warned flatly.

Before I could react, Doc tore the fabric from the wound, exposing raw, torn skin. Pain shot through me, goosebumps rising across my body. I bit my lip hard, fighting the urge to scream as the agony ran through me.

“Dammit...” I muttered, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“Stay awake,” Doc’s words echoed, sharp and insistent.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus through the pain and the haze of meds. My vision blurred and cleared in waves, my head spinning. But I fought to stay conscious, fighting against the pull of the void.

“You might have a concussion,” she continued, and it was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

“Can you make this shit quick?” I grumbled. “I don’t plan on being stuck in this hellhole with you for much longer.”

“You need stitches,” she replied, deadpan.

“I’ll manage without,” I huffed, my stubbornness in full fucking force.

“You’ll manage?” she repeated doubtfully.

Annoyance flared hot inside me. Her words caught me off guard, and my patience snapped.

“You’re not factoring in how much I wanna rip your head off right now,” I growled, my eyes locked onto hers, daring her to keep talking.

The tension thickened, and I could see the cracks forming in her calm facade. She wasn’t as composed as she pretended to be.

“Stay still,” she commanded irritated despite her efforts to sound professional.

For a split second, my gaze shifted to her, really taking her in for the first time. She was beautiful—too fucking beautiful for this cold, sterile environment.

Her small frame and delicate features clashed with the hardened attitude she wore like armor. Green eyes that practically glowed under the shitty lights, red hair pulled back with a few loose strands clinging to her sweat-covered brow.

But any fleeting appreciation I had for her looks was bulldozed by the pain that racked my body. I needed to get the fuck out of here. I needed answers, not a goddamn nursemaid.

The needle puncturing my skin had me gritting my teeth, my body trying to squirm away from her.

“You okay with me laying on you while I sew this up? My weight will keep you still,” she said casually, as if this was just another fucking day in the office.

Fuck me.

I looked at her, deadpan, trying to keep my cool. The idea of her laying on me wasn’t exactly thrilling, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

“Do I even get a say in this?” I muttered, trying to sound as level as possible, but the pain was turning everything to shit.

Reluctantly, I nodded, swallowing down the wave of discomfort. Human contact wasn’t my thing, but I needed this over and done with.

Doc lowered herself onto me, careful not to crush my chest, but still—her warmth against me wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Actually, it felt... weirdly reassuring.

Her face hovered above mine, her eyes focused as she worked, her body pressing into me with a strange kind of closeness I wasn’t used to.

I didn’t want to be some little bitch, lying here getting soft because someone was close enough for me to feel their heartbeat. Emotions and feelings—hell, I’d done everything I could to bury that crap deep. Softness and comfort, that was for people who had some rosy memory of family and warmth. I didn’t need it, didn’t want it clawing its way in, trying to make me weak.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad’s the pain?” she said, trying to catch my eye as her fingers pressed around the wound, sending a fresh spike of agony through me.

Annoyance flared up again. Like I needed a fucking reminder of the agony ripping through me.

“Ten,” I spat through clenched teeth, trying my best not to move. I could barely focus on anything other than the excruciating throb in my body. “Solid ten. No question.”

Maybe it was even an eleven, but I wasn’t about to start whining about it.

She exhaled through her nose, her face unreadable as she reached for more gauze. “Well, you’ll love this part then,” she muttered, “We’re running low on anesthetics and painkillers. The last supply convoy got held up outside Kandahar and what we’ve got left is going to the more critical cases.”

“Well, that’s fucking fantastic,” I muttered, rolling my eyes despite the stabbing pain that motion brought. “Guess I’ll just enjoy the show then. Don’t let me stop you from digging in there.”

She didn’t respond, just tightened her jaw and kept working, focused, her hands moving with a precision that would have been almost impressive if I wasn’t the one feeling every damn second of it. I could feel each tug of the needle, each pull of the thread as she stitched me up like a torn-up sandbag.

The room felt too hot, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and something else, something metallic that was probably my own blood.

I gritted my teeth, trying to stay still, but every so often, a flash of pain would make me jerk, and she’d mutter something under her breath, half-warning, half-comforting. She was calm, steady, not even looking at my face, just focused entirely on what she was doing, like she was patching up a hole in a wall instead of digging around in my gut.

“Okay, all done,” she announced, satisfied with her handiwork, like she hadn’t just put me through fifteen minutes of hell.

Relief hit me like a goddamn freight train. Finally. Her weight still pressed into me, but I was too exhausted to care anymore. She lifted herself off me, and I could move freely again.

“For fuck’s sake, took you long enough,” I muttered, trying to stay still despite the burning ache in my wound. “Hope I never see your ass again.”

I couldn’t make out her expression behind the mask, but I felt her eyes on me, a hint of irritation simmering beneath the surface.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

The air between us shifted as she made her exit, attempting to leave me alone. Gratitude wasn’t something I dealt in—not anymore. I wasn’t about to thank anyone for doing their fucking job. I was a soldier, built to kill, not to care.

Emotions, attachments—they were just distractions, the kind that got people killed out here. I'd seen it happen too many times, some guy letting down his guard because he was too busy worrying about someone else.

I’d buried enough friends to know that getting close was a mistake I couldn’t afford to make twice.

The softness in her eyes, the patience she kept showing me—it only made me want to push her further away. People like her, they didn’t last in places like this. They’d either get used up by it or crushed by the weight of reality. And I wasn’t about to be anyone’s damn charity case, some project they could fix or soften up. I didn’t need that, and I sure as hell didn’t want it.

“You’re not half bad at your job... for a civilian,” I called after her, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

She paused, turning just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes were steady, calm, unreadable. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the patch-up. But tying a few bandages doesn’t make you a goddamn hero,” I shrugged, keeping my tone as dismissive as possible.

Her eyes narrowed at me, the tension rising again. “I’m a trained professional, just like you. Don’t underestimate me just because I don’t carry a gun,” she snapped back, her voice like steel.

I exhaled slowly, not backing down. “I won’t underestimate you, but be careful not to overestimate yourself,” I replied, my tone just as stern as hers.

Her expression hardened, eyes narrowing even more.

“I may not be a soldier, but I sure as hell know what I’m doing.”

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, I watched as Doc yanked off her mask, giving me the full view of her face for the first time. Pale skin, full lips—yeah, she was fucking gorgeous, no doubt. But there was a heaviness in her eyes, like she’d seen some serious shit. She would’ve been fucking stunning if not for the stress lines etched deep into her features, like the weight of the world had clawed its way onto her face.

But that fleeting beauty? It didn’t mean anything to me. I’ve seen how quickly that kind of thing fades, especially in my world. Hell, it doesn’t even take long.

“I wouldn’t be alive without you,” I muttered, the words tasting more bitter than I expected.

My thoughts were clouded, poisoned by the mission and the shitshow it had turned into. The voices of my dead comrades screamed in my head, their bodies flashing in front of my eyes like it had all just happened.

Anger pumped through me, pure frustration tearing at my insides. I tried to get my busted ass off the bed, fighting through the pain. But fuck, it was like getting hit by a sledgehammer over and over, every inch of my body on fire. It was brutal, a fucking torment I couldn’t escape.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my muscles to move, but my body fought me. It was like swimming through thick mud, every movement slow and agonizing.

I planted my feet on the cold floor, gripping the bedrail like it was my lifeline, determined to stand the fuck up. The room spun for a second, but I held steady, not about to let a little dizziness take me down.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. I barely made out her outline as she moved over me, hands pressing against my chest to keep me down.

I shot her an irritated-as-fuck glare. “Trying to get up,” I ground out, my voice rough. “I need to get back to the base.” I tried again, forcing myself off the bed, but my wounds lit up like someone had shoved a branding iron into me.

“You’re not going anywhere, not like this,” she said, her order sharp as steel.

I shoved her aside, not giving a single fuck about how much it hurt. “Get out of my way,” I snapped, my voice coarse and rough.

I staggered across the room, barely noticing how my body was screaming in protest. Every step felt like walking on broken glass, but I didn’t care. I had to get the fuck out of here.

Doc rushed after me, trying to stop me with desperate pleas. “You can’t leave, you’re too weak!”

I pushed past, not willing to listen. Nothing mattered but getting the fuck out of here.

“Wait!”

Finally, I managed to force my way past her, but my body betrayed me. My legs gave out underneath me, the pain too intense. Before I could crash to the floor, Doc grabbed me, catching me just in time.

“Are you satisfied now?” she asked, trying to support my weight. “This is why I didn’t want you to stand.”

The pain was sudden and intense. The world around me began to move in slow motion, the air trapped in my throat, my lungs struggling to get a breath of oxygen.

I pushed past the nurse that tried to stop me, not giving a single, solitary fuck about the hospital’s rules or anyone’s advice.

Everything became darker, my vision fading and swirling, my entire body giving in to the agony. All I could do was fall, the ground rushing up to meet me.

As the pain ripped through my body, taking over my mind, there was one final image that burned itself into my brain. Two glistening green eyes, staring straight into mine, and a faint hint of fragrance, teasing my nose, making me want to inhale even deeper.

Citrus and bergamot.

I could feel the coldness of the floor against my skin, the air gusting through the room, the overwhelming sense of exhaustion as every ounce of my strength abandoned me.

And then, nothing.

Sweet, merciful fucking oblivion.