The familiar noise of the helicopter engine filled your ears.

The ground was shaking below your feet while a tingle tickled the back of your neck.

It felt good to be back in the air, on your way to a battlefield that seemed a lost cause already.

Next to you, Price was sitting.

Just as expected from him, he didn't give away a single emotion. With his hands crossed on the handle of his rifle, he stared out of the window while shadow crossed his dark face.

It was nice to see him in his usual attire again, dressed all in tactical gear and the fisherman hat on his head.

His hands were stuck in some fingerless gloves for grip.

You eyed them for a moment.

"John?", you asked into the silence.

He moved.

"Hm?", his voice sounded almost gentle.

He had been lost in thoughts.

You wanted to know what he had been thinking about.

This was probably not his first high risk mission. The possibility to never return from the battlefield was always present.

If you'd die that day, there wouldn't be much to regret or mourn after.

But you wondered if he would have any regrets.

Swallowing hard, you forced a smile to your face. It was better to smile. Otherwise the spirit would be low.

"We're talking about a bunch of armed French.", you didn't dare to look at him. "They are trained soldiers. And violent."

He let out a low sound.

"It's not just the French.", he said.

"I know. But they are the main base. If we can hit them first, maybe the organisation will fall apart."

"Or Europe. If we are too slow."

You nodded.

For a moment silence spread.

The engine noise made the ground and metal walls vibrate.

A beam of light blinded you before vanishing into nothing again.

Everything looked red and dark.

"You sure you want to be in on this?", you asked after a while. "If something goes wrong, anything, you'll be partially responsible."

His eyes moved to you.

You still couldn't look at him.

"There's always a risk.", he said soberly.

Again, you nodded.

"But this one might not be worth taking. Not for you."

A huff made his chest tremble.

"And you? Is it worth it for you?"

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you bit your tongue and swallowed the truth that you wanted to tell.

You've never had a relationship with the people you had worked with.

He was the closest to a friend you've ever had.

The others had always only been people to work with. You didn't even remember most of their faces.

"I don't have a choice, captain.", you finally dared to whisper. "I was born for this. I don't know anything else. If the world needs someone to blame, someone to do the dirtiest of work, it's me. That's my purpose."

It took him a moment to take everything in.

His nose curled, lips pressed into a thin line, he took a deep breath and let it out with such a loud sound that you couldn't help but look at him.

"Finally.", a slim smirk appeared on his bearded face. "Let's talk eye to eye, eh?"

You swallowed hard.

As if struck by lightning, your heart started to beat faster.

Your legs twitched, wanting to run away.

"I wouldn't know what we could talk about?", you tried to turn your gaze towards the door again.

But he pushed himself into your field of vision, a cocky smile on his face.

"Captain.", he said.

A shiver crawled down your spine.

You wanted to hear him say it at least once.

"(Y/N).", it suddenly jumped out of your mouth.

A soft breath escaped him.

"Hm?", he asked softly, more confused by the sudden name than the fact that you had something of your own.

Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the back of your head press against the cool metal wall of the helicopter.

"I'm (Y/N). Captain (Y/N)."

His eyes moved.

"No last name?"

"No. None that I know."

For the breath of a second Price had to eye your face as if he saw you for the very first time again.

"You're not French, eh?", he asked and sat in a way that made it almost impossible for you to escape this conversation.

Something inside your chest felt heavy.

But at the same time it made you feel excited to be able to talk to someone in such a confident way.

Was this how it felt like to be with someone?

A friend?

A lover perhaps?

"I'm not French.", you confirmed and opened your eyes a crack wide to be able to take in the outlines of his face.

He looked like a blurry shadow, drowned and bright.

But it gave you comfort to know that he was actually there and not just a voice in the back of your own head.

"So, what are you?"

You shrugged.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't have a nationality. They put me where I'm needed. I am what they want me to be."

A humming sound got stuck in his throat.

"The countries that you worked for... Did you ever want to stay? Be one of em'?"

With lowered eyes you had to think about the answer to that question.

It was something you had thought about many nights and many days. But most of the time it had only felt like a dream, a silly wish that wasn't supposed to be reality.

"I was British once, you know?", the memories lit up a soft smile on your face. "Edinburgh was nice. I lived in Spain twice. Countless times in America and once in Germany."

"You came around."

"There's a lot more. But I've lived in those counties for a while.", your eyes locked with his. "It was never a home. I don't know what that is."

Now he was the one who had to think about his answer for a moment.

"For some home is a place, a country or a city.", he thought out loud. "For others it's a person."

A snort escaped you.

"I never had either."

His eyes moved to look out the window.

"Do you want one?"