Nikprice

Chapter Three;

John was on a mission and Nikolai was helping him on a mission. Bullets swirled in the air. Some spun past John while others hit the corner of the house he was using as cover.

"Bloody fuck," He cussed under his breath while he pulled out his pistol instead of reloading.

They were in a tight spot. He didn't have time for it.

"Captain? John?" Nikolai's voice came from behind him.

John jumped slightly as he pulled his body back behind the building. He then started to reload his gun.

John was fumbling fucking hard right now. He was struggling to reload his gun. It took him like 5 times before he got the ammo in the damn thing.

He took in a sharp breath before he responded.

"Yeah, Nik?" John asked.

But that conversation was cut short when he was dragged around the corner and met with the face of another soldier who was a part of the Russian army.

John elbowed the soldier in the stomach and went to use the blunt end of his gun to hit them with it but felt a sharp stabbing pain in his forearm.

"FUCK!" John blurted out.

He knew it was a knife he didn't even have to check.

John assumed that the next bullet to hit the soldier in the head came from Nikolai. Even if it didn't, he was glad because he had bigger problems to attend to right now. He ducked down behind a half wall to check the damage.

It was pretty damn bad. The knife was sharp and slid into his arm like a stick of butter. It was deep but he didn't think it hit anything severe. He pulled the knife out of his arm.

"Fuck!" John hissed as he yanked the blade out of his arm.

He knew it was a stupid decision. Luckily, adrenaline was coursing through his body so he didn't feel it for the most part. He was bleeding quite a lot though.

Except that's what he thought until the pain settled. Sure, adrenaline didn't make it as bad as it was but it still fucking hurt. He grunted quietly to himself as his eyes darted around for a solution.

He ripped off a small piece of fabric from a nearby dead soldier and used that to wrap his arm up. The mission was more important; he couldn't dwell on this for much longer. He finally got the damn thing tied. It was hard to do with one hand, especially his left.

"Are you okay??" Nikolai asked, a firm hand going on John's shoulder.

His tone had a hint of worry in it. It made John crack a smile. John nodded.

"I'm fine. Let's go," John said.

A lie, but Nikolai seemed to believe him so he went along with it. And that was that.

John had honestly forgotten about the injury the longer the mission went on. Nobody asked why he had a random piece of fabric tied around his arm either. They were all focused on the mission and John had gotten used to the pain.

By the time the mission was completed and Price was in the driver seat of one of the trucks driving his men back to their base, his arm was stinging. It hurt like a bitch now that his adrenaline had faded.

It was no longer wrapped with the fabric he had put on it. It had probably come off when he wasn't looking since he wasn't exactly paying attention to it.

For the most part, he focused on driving. He's had worse so he shrugged it off despite the writhing pain he was in. Nikolai had probably noticed both the blood and ripped part of John's sleeve because he grabbed John's arm and pulled it over the center console to take a closer look.