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

23) Heads or Tails

[🎵: NERVE - Yutaka Yamada]

A pounding headache was the first thing that settled in.

Your eyes shifting from left to right. Taking in everything as fast as you could, aware that your blindfold was gone. Your head wasn't used to it anymore, the violent input of colours and light. The ache rapidly spreading through your head, a testament to how long you'd been stuck in the dark.

You'd awoken in your chair as always. The same old concrete walls, the same old buzzing lights. Same old chair under your arse. Only now it felt different.

You felt different.

The drugs had worn off completely and while you were happy you felt more stable, more clearminded, less in pain surprisingly, it also made you way more wary about the situation you were currently in.

Your body felt... lighter? Maybe you'd finally died? Would be rather shitty if this was your purgatory. Your soul forever stuck in a moldy cell. No way to go back home or haunt Soap from the afterlife, like you'd always jokingly promised him whenever he annoyed you that little bit more.

Death can't be that cruel to take that away from me, right?

But somehow that wasn't it.

And as you looked around; looked down at yourself; moved your body; you realised what it was.

They'd cleaned you up. The heavy taste of iron and vomit that'd coated your tongue, now gone from your mouth. Your face no longer matted with your hair, nor the feeling of dried blood and drool on it. They hadn't just washed your face, however. No, they'd changed your clothing. Aware of the clean dark pants and weirdly plain white t-shirt that were not your own, a stark contrast to the memory of your blood soaked and slashed uniform you wore before.

As you looked around, a pile of medical equipment next to you on the steel table, you were bending your head in angles to get as much reach, noticing your clothes in a corner behind you. Discarded in a pile. Your old vest, the dogtags of your passed team members inside, thrown to the side. Your familiar uniform, cut. Torn up completely. A sting settled in your chest at seeing the one tether left to the 141, now tossed aside.

Your only comfort, gone.

Maybe you should've been more panicked instead of sad, but what would that do for you? It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't get you out of the chair. So for your own sake, you decided to take the rational approach as you analyzed the situation. Dissecting every detail you could see, smell, feel.

Your wrists had been treated, the rope making way for handcuffs this time. The rubber handles giving them some more room to breathe than you were used to. Scanning further you focused on what your body told you. It didn't feel like someone had tried invading you while you were unconscious, no suspicious aches that weren't there before. Nothing that felt inherently wrong. Your underwear still felt familiar, the same old sports bra connecting in an X shape between your shoulder blades.

You let out somewhat of a relieved sigh, betraying yourself as you chuckled humourlessly. You'd been a little panicked after all.

Thanks for letting me keep some integrity I guess..

Moving on, you focused on the rest of your body. Your cuts and bruises had been treated, disinfectant lingering in the air around you as you noted the big bottle on the steel table. The pain in your face was still present, though the swelling was down. Your shattered nose still ached, but it felt like less of an issue somehow. You focused on it, crossing your eyes a little to ignore your brains natural urge to filter it out of your vision. Ignoring the blue and black colouring you noticed, with it. And then you saw it.