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It was a long day already, today's shoot started at 7 am since the clients wanted to catch the sunrise in some of their pictures. And while that meant that your alarm already went off at 4:30 am instead of the usual 8 am it was totally worth it. The client wore beautiful lingerie that complimented her body beautifully and her partner looked at her like she hung the moon in every single picture. You’d have to ask her where she got her set from, if not for yourself then for your ever growing collection of lingerie for your clients. The editing would be done in no time at all which was a nice change to how it usually went.
It also meant that the shoot wrapped up around noon which left you with enough time for a quick grocery run for some ingredients for today's dinner and also more than enough time to get the house clean before your husband would return today from his latest mission.
It wasn’t always easy to be married to someone that's part of the military, especially not if that someone was also part of a special task force but you made it work. You being a self employed boudoir photographer gave you enough opportunities to plan your schedule around your husbands and when he was home he was more than happy to help you set up your shoots in the mornings to spend some extra time with you before leaving you with your client to show them the necessary respect that came with your line of work. The hardest parts about your marriage where the bruises, cuts and wounds he regularly came home with. Sure, they showed you that he came back to you alive, but that didn’t make it any better. If he never left and had a normal job you wouldn’t have to worry about being presented with his dog tags one day. But you made peace with that a while ago, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you first started dating him all those years ago.
You were excited to finally see him again today. He wasn’t gone for too long this time, only two weeks but those two weeks felt like forever. You prepared his favorite food after you cleaned the whole house and walked your dog before getting yourself ready. He was set to be home around 8pm so you planted yourself on the couch around 7:45 pm, dinner in the oven to keep it warm, wearing that cute outfit he got you a while ago and told you he loved seeing you in. You really cleaned up nicely for him every time he came home from a mission and he always appreciated it and made sure you knew. Today was supposed to be the same way but when 8:30 pm rolled around and you still hadn’t heard from him you grew worried, checking your phone every couple minutes. Nothing. He never was late without letting you know beforehand. After another painful ten minutes your phone finally rang but the Caller ID didn’t show the expected contact for your husband but showed the small soap emoji. Hesitant you picked up just to be met with a frantic „Come down to the med bay!“, with a lot of shouting in the background before the Scot hung up again. You knew the way to the med bay, having picked up all four of the guys from there more often than not but you’ve never received a call like this before. Your blood ran cold and you were sure that you suddenly looked very much like Casper the Ghost. Still you got up, put your shoes on and wobbled outside to your car before starting the dreaded drive. Suddenly you were really grateful that you haven’t had the chance to show your husband the house that you found for sale and that you still lived on base, it meant the drive was only 15 minutes before you’d pulled into the parking lot. You didn’t even know how bad it was, what happened, maybe it was just a prank? You hoped it was just a prank, even tho you’d definitely make everyone involved pay for it. Pale as a ghost, heart beating in your chest as if it was trying to find it’s way out of our body, out of this base and also maybe out of England in general you clutched the steering wheel in a way you could Price already hear scolding you. “Wanna break the damn thing, you Muppet?”, you heard the imaginary Price in your head before you shook it to get at least some concentration back on the road. Just because you were absolutely panicking right now didn’t mean that you had to wreck your car that you worked so hard for. You had saved for years to be able to buy it – not on monthly installments or leasing it, no you dreamed of this car for so long that you bought it cash the first chance that you got. Kyle always told you just how proud he was of you, even tho he had offered multiple times to buy it for you. But didn’t want that, you wanted to prove yourself.
The drive felt way longer than the normal 15 minutes yet you made it in barley 12. Pulling into the parking lot you just used the first empty space you saw, not caring about how accurately you had parked and barley remembering to pull your keys out of the engine before basically running to the entrance. When had it started to rain? Has it been raining the whole time and you just didn’t notice? You didn’t know and you barley found it in yourself to care as you walked up to the nurse that was at the help desk. Before you could even open your mouth to ask for – who exactly? You just rushed here assuming Kyle, your dear husband, was the wounded one. What if it was one of the other boys? But before you could think yourself into hyperventilation you heard your name being shouted by none other than Soap as he was motioning you to follow him which you gladly did, ignoring the look the nurse gave you. You looked absolutely out of place, all dolled up, but you barley had it in you to care. “Johnny, what happened? Why am I here?”, you asked as soon as you were close enough to the Scot, noticing the bandages around his arm and the bruise on his cheek which would probably turn into a gnarly little fucker in a couple hours. “How’s Kyle? Where is he?” Your voice sounded shaky, even to yourself. “Gaz, he… He’s alive. You need to know that he’s alive, ok? But he is in surgery right now… They ambushed us, everything went by so fast. He took the worst of it, took a bullet that was meant for Ghost. But he’s alive and he will survive this, ok?” He definitely tried his best to comfort you while also telling you what happened to the love of your life. “He was shot?”, you barley managed a whisper. Of course that was the only thing that stuck with you, it was always that way. “Yes, but he is going to live. Just needs a nurse the next couple weeks, eh?”, Soap tried again to ease your anxiety a bit. It didn’t work. “Where are the other two? How are they?”, you tried to change the topic at least a bit so you could focus on something else than the fact that your husband got shot. Again. Sighing Soap mentioned for you to follow him yet again to take you into the waiting room where Price was already sitting, hat on the table in front of him. Ghost was standing in a corner near the window, the everlasting shadow. None of them looked badly hurt, sure you could spot some bandages and band aids here and there but nothing that yelled absolute catastrophe to you. Wordless you sank down on a chair across from Price, your head in your hands. So much for your evening plans of a romantic dinner, a movie and maybe, if he wasn’t too worn out, a little show of all your newest lingerie that you had acquired just for him, not your job. Instead you were sitting in a hospital waiting room while he had to have surgery. “Where?”, you asked out of nowhere, earning two confused looks from both Johns across from you. “Left hip.”, came the answer from Ghost. Of course he knew what you meant. It was the only question that would make sense right now. You knew better than to ask where they were when it happened so that was the only information you could ask for right now. A slow nod was all he got as a thank you, you definitely were too distraught to remember your manners right now.
You didn’t know how long you have been sitting here before on of the doctors walked in. “Mrs. Garrick?”, he asked in your direction, clipboard in hand. And while he only addressed you, you weren’t the only one basically jumping out of your seat. “Yes? How is he?”, you asked, trying to still remain somewhat professional towards the doctor that had presumably been wrist deep in your husband just a couple minutes ago. “He’s stable, he should wake up in a couple hours. Once he’s awake and back in a room you can see him.”, was all you were informed off before the doctor left again, probably to fill out some paperwork or inform other people of news. It didn’t matter, you didn’t care. As you slowly sank back into your chair the words kept replaying in your head. “He’s stable.” Stable is good, stable is great even. That meant he was gonna wake up in a bit and you could scold him for taking a bullet to the hip so close to your anniversary. But maybe Laswell would give him some extra leave for that since his original leave would be replaced with a medical one. Maybe you could use that time to find a house off base, like you talked about. But right now, all that you could do was sit here, wait until he was awake and try to keep your mind happy by thinking about moving into a nice house, just the two of you and your pup. Maybe you could even adopt a cat from a nearby shelter, or you could get a home studio. It would absolutely improve your creativity but probably would also mean that you would forget not to work, especially when Kyle was not home to remind you that you were more than your camera. But that would be ok as well because it would mean that you would be able to keep yourself even busier than you already did when he was deployed. It would work out great, you thought before a nurse entered the room, shrinking a bit as four intense stares landed on her. “Mr. Garrick is awake. If you’d like to see him, he is in room 2.36.”, she told you before hurriedly leaving the room again but you barley recognized her leaving. Your feet were back on the floor in an instant before you basically ran to the mentioned room number where you stopped. You felt nauseous again. What if they didn’t tell you everything? Was he hurt elsewhere? Swallowing hard you continued to stare at the door in front of you before you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder. Turning your head a bit you could see Ghost standing beside you. “Go see him. He’ll be glad to see you.”, was all he said before returning back to Soaps side. Of course. Him and Soap weren’t exactly subtle but nobody mentioned it. You’d all wait until they decided to come out themselves. They made a cute but dangerous couple, good for them.
Taking a couple calming breaths you raised your hand to softly knock on the white door in front of you before opening it a bit and sticking your head in, peering at the comparably pale form of your husband whose eyes found yours the second you had opened the door. “Can I come in?”, you asked, still nervous but starting to slowly calm down a bit as you finally saw your Kyle. And he was awake, breathing and probably still a bit drowsy but you’d take what you could get. “Always, darling.”, he answered, his voice even more gruff than it normally was. You smiled softly as you slipped into the room, closing the door behind you and steadying yourself against it for just a second before slowly walking towards the bed. “Only you can manage to get shot so close to our anniversary.”, you tried to lighten the mood in hopes he wouldn’t sense your anxiety. As if you could bullshit him, you’ve been with each other too long for that to work. “Sorry, my bad. I’ll try to delay it next year, alright?”, he joked with you. Of course he’d joke with you right now. The ever loving husband that didn’t want to see his partner distraught and tried to ease their anxiety, no matter what state he himself was in. He probably could be on his deathbed and still would find a way to make you chuckle. And you loved him for that. Sliding the chair for visitors closer to his bed you took the hand that wasn’t hooked up to an IV in yours. “You better, we planned a holiday next year!”, you reminded him smiling, before your smile dropped again. “I hate when you get injured.”, you admitted, thumb slowly brushing circles into the back of his hand. “I hate getting these calls and not knowing what happened and if I end up leaving with just your tags instead of you..”, your voice grew even quieter, your eyes fixated on his hand and how big it was compared to yours. “Hey, my love. Look at me, eh? I wouldn’t do that to you, you know that. What kind of husband would I be to miss seeing you wearing a nurse outfit while taking care of me, mh?”, he reassured you. You huffed a small laugh out before bringing his hand up to your lips and kissing each of his knuckles. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’ll wear that for you.”