keep me breathing - john price x oc

09. closure

Flashback

2022

You had anticipated this day with a mixture of nervousness and relief, but those words didn't quite capture the overwhelming feeling.

It took Kate a while to gather a few agents who she trusted, and could be one hundred percent sure they had not been involved in the operation and possibly be corrupt. Surprisingly, there were plenty, which explained how the manipulation in the report had slipped through in the first place.

Money over morals.

You sat with a team of CIA specialists, Kate and John, to go over the report again. It felt nice, because finally someone listened. John assured you repeatedly that this was fine and nobody would call you a liar. He even promised to be there, because he could tell you were scared. Scared of a random man appearing again and repeating the cycle of threats. You felt better, like you had a personal bodyguard there with you, and the reassuring squeezed to your thigh during the process calmed your mind.

You went over the reports several times. Four times in total. It was made sure that every single little detail was recorded. The agents listened to you, praised you for your bravery, and even apologized that this hasn't been discovered sooner - even if it wasn't their mess. When you were done, you thanked everyone, shaking their hands and exchanging smiles. John had his hand on your lower back the entire time, as if he was personally making sure that nobody overstepped and nothing could happen to you.

By the end, you had a thick folder filled with various papers—scribbles, notes, satellite images, lists of deceased soldiers, and all the letters and photos you had received over the past years, as evidence. It felt so heavy in your hands, like you transferred some weight of your burdens into it. And yet, it didn't feel like a complete relief. For now.

That very heavy folder was in John's hands on your way over to Reynolds' office. With Soap, Ghost and Gaz in tow, you tried to keep up with the Captain's angry, hurried steps. He didn't pause for breath after running up the stairs, which you had to take because the elevators were crowded and would have cost you precious time. Besides, there was no chance someone would like to be in a small confined space with Price in his current mood, anyway.

Going through all the work together with you made Price realize the gravity of the situation. His feelings towards your captain had turned into pure hatred for what had been done to everyone, to his unit, and to you. Price had never seen the amount of papers and photos you had received, and that didn't even account for the verbal abuse and the attempts in your life. Hatred was probably not even enough to describe what he felt.

Of course, he shared everything with the team as soon as he could. You were okay with that. You knew anyway, anything Price knew, the 141 knew. You watched their faces as John talked to them, showing them the papers, and you could see the anger spreading among the men. When Price told them you would go to Reynolds' office the next day, there was no objection.

And that's where you all were headed, with the evidence in hand, to finally put your burden to rest once and for all.

The air in the office was thick with tension as Price pushed the door open without any regard for privacy. Reynolds was standing behind his desk, quickly ending a phone call. His head spun around, immediately preparing to shout at whoever dared to enter his office without knocking. Instead, his face shifted, and he forced a smile. "Captain! What's the occasion?"

But instead of giving him an answer, Price's fist connected with Reynold's face, and you heard the nastiest crack echo through the silence. Reynolds staggered, his nose starting to bleed, his eyes widened in shock. "What the fuck!" he shouted, his hands flying up to his face. The sight of him, so dishevelled and bleeding, felt strangely satisfying.