Carry that weight, all is well.

Once there was a way to get back homeward

     English is not my first language! Ignore spelling mistakes!

  Laying in the dirt was something that Price had become accustomed to, hands pressed into rocky soil leaving fragments of stone chipped deep into the epidermis of his skin. It was second nature to him to be nestled in blades of grass that split into his clothes strengthening the fabric and attempting to fasten him to the ground before it was even his time to go. The heat in the air a hired mercenary trying to suffocate him yet his eyes only focused on the scope of his sniper looking through at the stoic war hardened face of whoever happened to be on the other side. All of that was his sense of normality, it was cruel and gritty but it was normal, in his heart it was normal.
        Now, his normality was gone. The blades of grass replaced with the soft fabrics of a bed, a real bed. One that stood firm in a bedroom, not to be tucked away like an obstacle or hidden behind to protect yourself from oncoming shots. It was hard not to view things in a tactical sense, he was accustomed to viewing a lamp as a possible weapon if thrown, a curved wall a hiding place, breaking free from that had never been easy. The thing that was the hardest to adjust to beyond all else.. was you. You in all your reverent glory laid next to him like you belonged there, laid like sleep knew you by name. He never understood how you could seem so secure so calm and relaxed there when there was so much danger outside, he had seen so much war so much pain and yet you were the one thing that stood strong.
       This mission had been difficult, he had to make choices he never had wanted to endure, choosing the lives of others over your own, it was a vicious primal thing. Each of them fought for their own purpose to stay alive, some unceremoniously downed, others burnt out like a dying star. He never felt like he had the right to make that choice, regardless of their alliance they were people wishing to lay in a bed as much as he had been, they had memories and secrets that would die with them. He felt sick when he thought about the ripple effects a flick of his finger could cause, he felt even more sick thinking of you at the end of a rifle, of being unable to shield and protect you from it all.
          He wasn't even sure what had woken him up but the breath had been stolen from his long as he jolted awake sitting upwards leaned back on his forearms, rock indents replaced with pillow indents. Eyes flickering around the room landing on every lamp every wall every entry way into the home. His heart was pounding he felt like he has tried to pry himself from his dreams for hours at every single noise. His gaze only remained unplaced for a moment before your name ripped itself off of his tongue in a husky raw utterance, snapping his head to the left side of the bed his hand placing itself on your arm his breaths labored and heaving as those blue eyes he knew you adored softened. Staring at you with anything less than reverence would be a crime. His labored breaths began to flow again seeing that you were safe and asleep beside him, his rough calloused palm gently gracing over your forearm his thumb tracing small hearts on to your skin. He watched as your eyes squeezed shut tighter as if to block out the light your mind had just become aware of, the way your nose scrunched up a soft sleepy yawn left your lips. "John?"
    He felt a soft guilt for waking you up seeing the look of confusion come across your features at his obvious panicked awakening. "Oh it's okay love.. shhh.. I'm sorry everything's alright go back to bed darling.." he whispered in that husky morning voice signifying he had just woken up himself. He watched your eyes flutter open and plant their gaze on his tired disheveled features. "What's wrong John? Are you okay?" You said your tone muddled in exhaustion as you slowly sat up and positioned yourself leaning against the blankets looking at your fiancé, haloed by the dreamy moonlight coming through the unshielded window. "I'm alright baby doll.. I promise I just thought I heard something. It's alright." He reassured stretching his muscular biceps over his head as he instinctively scooted closer to you under the covers seeking your comfort in a way he couldn't put into words and ask for.
    "Nightmares John?" You asked quietly looking at the shift of his features as he opened his mouth to lie to you before sighing and sliding back to be laying on his back once again, the covers hovered over the transition from his waist to his hips his chest exposed to the cold air of the morning. A breath left your lips tiredly as you woke yourself up more crawling up closer to your fiancé and sliding one warm arm over his chest and resting on the area right below his pectorals gently rubbing circles into the skin feeling the raised line of a scar big and small no matter where you touched on his chest. "Oh my sweet John." You sighed out heavily, you knew what labored his mind so much and all you wanted to do was take it away. Make his home a home.. not a battlefield. "You've got all this pain in your chest and nowhere for it to go dear.. it's going to bubble over soon and that's never worked out for you." You say quietly aiming your words softly and as gently as you could to appease him in his still sleepy state. You could feel him melting under your touch leaning into it as he reached a hand down to gently take yours in his bringing your other hand to his lips gently and absentmindedly planting kisses to your knuckles and the back of your hand before letting it rest on his cheek, his beard a little scratchy on your palm but you didn't mind.
    "Are you going to speak any time soon or is my fiancé selectively mute now?" You asked a light airy humor in his voice making Price allow a soft rumbling chuckle to leave his lips bringing his spare hand around to your waist pulling you close and running his hand across your back painting murals into your skin with his fingers. " I don't know, it's just.. proper awful im tired but I can't sleep worth a damn. This mission was hell on earth, I almost lost Gaz.. sweet boy I just had to make choices so many damn choices that I never get to let go of." He whispered lowly as he let his eyes close your hand moving from his cheek up to his hair gently tussling the brown locks and scratching at his scalp with your nails. "I'm sorry John.. but you're home and you're safe. Doesn't that count for something? You're a miracle and every time you walk through that door I'm happy to see you alive and well." You whisper watching his eye lashes flutter seeming to melt and relax into your touches.
    "It's enough dear I just.. I just always want to stay in this pain for a little bit longer, little love." He whispered ever so quiet his breathing become deeper and raspier, his Herefordshire accent becoming a little more pronounced as he got sleepier and sleepier. "Rest John, just rest." You whisper leaning in and kissing his ear and cheek nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the lingering smell of his cologne. You two stayed silent for a little while gently brushing each others skin with your nails and fingers slowly beginning to come to a stop as you fell asleep closer than you had been when you crawled into bed. 
     Price never knew how you could do that, how you could do effortless soothe him soothe his mind when it was a hurricane in there, turn it all to calm waters. How could you turn a battlefield into a home. How you could be his home, even when you weren't there.