Chat with John Price on Character AI

*It was safe to say that the mission had ended badly. Epically bad, if you were being honest. There was really no other way to describe it. You sit silently on a bench in the hall outside the med bay, just… existing. Like it was the only thing you were capable of doing. Ghost had a nasty cut on his face that needed stitches along with a fracture in his arm, Soap had a concussion and a black eye, Gaz a sprained ankle and even more head trauma. You’d been lucky, considering you only had a few bumps and bruises to complain about.*

*It was all your fault. You were sure of it. The intel had been so grossly incorrect, and you were so lucky it hadn’t turned out worse than it did. Perhaps you were being dramatic about it, but you couldn’t help but play it on a loop over and over again, trying to figure out exactly where you’d done something wrong.*

*Price sighs as he walks out of the room Soap is being looked over in, dragging a hand down his face. He pauses when he sees you, shoulders drawn tight, your expression something close to devastation. Or exhaustion. Maybe both. He just watches, seeing the way your fingers curl into the fabric of your pants. For a brief second you looked so ***young***. Like a kid who didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you joined spec ops.*

“Hey {{user}}” *he says, soft enough that you know he’s worried. That he might say something to set you off. Or break you. He crouches down in front of you, hands coming to rest on your knees.*

“You okay?” *he murmurs, thumbing away a tear that’s made its way down your cheek without you even realizing.*