Call of Duty Oneshots

Forever and Always (Sandman) FINAL UPDATE

Please read this my dearest readers!

This is the last ever update on this lengthy book of Call of Duty favorites. It's rather bittersweet for me to be writing this. This book was started on a whim four years ago and never would I have guessed it to become what it has. It's been quite the journey of hard work, struggles, inconsistency, and personal growth for me, but I'm very thankful for all of it.

Without a doubt I will miss this imperfect beast.

To make a proper farewell, I wanted to write a happy ending with the character who started it all. I was around 12 when I first played Call of Duty and I started with Modern Warfare 3. It was Sandman who inspired me to write a series of (terrible) old fanfictions I have written elsewhere and will never publish. So with that, I update this final part with him...to dedicate my entire Wattpad profile to a special fictional video game character. ❤️

It's been so incredible to create this book for you all. I have to apologize to those who have requested over the four years and never got their idea fulfilled. Please, shoot me a message and I will try to fulfill it in a special message. Truly, I hope you all have enjoyed this book and will continue to enjoy it as time goes on. I also hope you seek out my other works--for even more experience with the characters--and follow me through wherever else this Wattpad journey will take me. 

I love you all so much. Thank you. For every vote and comment. For your patience and tips. For your support. They all mean the world to me. 💕

P.S. Following the publishing of this part, I will post the very first chapter of my Modern Warfare fanfic. If you love any of the characters from those games, please check it out. 😘

~MS~

~~~

At first the news of his potential death was something unimaginable. 

You couldn't imagine life without his protective aura. You couldn't imagine life without his gentle blue gaze in the morning or the caressing of his hands against your shoulders in times of grief. You couldn't imagine a life without a father to your children. 

The two boys were oblivious to the news when it arrived. You didn't let them see your pale face or your shaky hands. You sent them to the neighbor's house for some pool time instead.

For a fourth time, you read over the paper informing you of the potential death of Sandman. He had been caught in a blast with other comrades and the bodies still had not been found two months later. There was a low chance of survival, but the letter informed you otherwise. They made it sound hopeful.

A knock at your front door drew you out of your tear-strained gaze. You sniffled, wiped at your eyes with the hand towel in your palm, and then moved to answer the knock. Standing there once you did was a type of officer, dressed in formal military attire. 

"Y/N Y/L/N?" 

"That's me," you responded with a quiet voice. 

"Your husband insisted on coming back home as soon as he was found." 

"What?" you slipped out the front door, leaving it cracked open behind you. 

"He is a little scratched up," the officer glanced back at his running vehicle, "but he's alive." 

You felt your heart stop as the man of conversation rounded the brick pathway to the front door. He stopped, raising his gaze to meet yours, and then started crying. 

You ran to him faster than you knew you could and collapsed into his arms. Sandman held you close and tight, sinking to his knees at the edge of the grass. He stroked your hair and then held the back of your head firmly.