Everything but you
another fic for PriceRaven, BUT this is an art + fic combo fic :3 I'll do a separate post for just the art (or you can check out this clip i posted on twt), so for now, enjoy this mess
this fic is within PriceRaven's cannon timeline, somewhere after MW3 and during fishy arc
tags:
angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, canon-typical violence and behavior, character study (done poorly), grief, major character death (MCD), mention of MW3 content, author trying to be poetic but most likely just messing up the narrative flow, miscommunication, happy ending
author's note:
word count: 6,048 (the back part is not proof read)
the italics are internal thoughts or third perspective thoughts
━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━ [this divider represent a time skip]
Raven knew the possibility of Price having to leave for a period of time, and was fully aware of the escalation of things when the news of Makarov started popping up.
“To update you on the breaking news of a Russian passenger jet that crashed…”
“A hundred and thirty-three passengers and nine crew members were on board the flight…”
“Descending very rapidly…..unexplained descent…..”
“Kastovia flight 761 bound for sochi…”
“...just hours after a missile attack on Arklove Military Base…..looks to be a terrorist attack”
They both knew then, that this would be the beginning of a long separation.
A quick goodbye, a hug and a kiss.
A swift departure, leaving Raven to tend to their home with their two lovely cats, their girls, after the shit show that went down between Cobra and Vik.
━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━
Months later, Price would return a changed man, sprawled on the front door and drenched by the rain, clutching onto Raven for dear life as he shakes.
She’d never seen this man in this state; never seen Price that would openly show his distress to this level.
She could deduce that the operations most likely did not go well, and something terrible must’ve happened.
The guess confirms itself in the form of a watch.
Soap’s watch. Resting on his desk.
And later, a conversation.
“We’ll have to abandon everything”
“The house, the plants, the cars-”
“The girls…”
There was a sense of urgency in his tone, its timbre deepened and solemn since his return. A frown etched between his brows, accompanied by an increased consumption of cigars and even cigarettes.
━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━
“I tied one of many loose ends”
He murmured into her skin in the quiet of night where the world is asleep. Price returned hours ago, dressed in a dark overcoat and a beanie, with a handgun beneath his shirt.
“Did you now?”
Shepherd huh.
She whispered back, feeling his chin resting on her shoulder, his beard tickling her skin slightly, properly nestled in his arms, but there weren't the usual giggles and laughter that surrounded the two.
No, this was their last night on this bed, on this home.
Their last night in the comforts of their safe haven.
“Mm”
He mumbled back, palms covering her arms as he hugged her closer, spooning her in his arms.
Nervous that somehow, she’ll slip away, taken away from his grasp.
“....”
“Tell me, Pricey”
She brushed his knuckles, easing his tension.
“Will you follow me still, Raven….? Even if we have to leave…” he trails off, leaving things unsaid.
She understood fully the gravity of the question.
Even if we have to leave away our hopes and dreams, dreams of settling down, growing old peacefully, dreams of comfort and promises of the future.
“Where would I go if not with you, John?”
“...I don’t know, Singapore?”
“...and what does Singapore have to offer again?”
“Really good seafood”
“So you’re assuming I’ll pick seafood over you?”
“Well, I was hoping you don’t”
A small chuckle escapes her, which made him smile in return, some of the pressure and uneasiness dispersed from this exchange.
“I won’t leave you”
She whispered back, holding his hand up to kiss his fingers. Bittersweet murmurs exchanged throughout the night that comforted the two.
“Alright then, Eira”
━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━
It was exhilarating and intense for Raven to get back on the field with Price, joined as an ally to provide much-needed support in the mess and development following the escape of Makarov from the Trojan Horse mission.
But they have to admit it was exhausting having to move constantly without a proper place to settle down.
Physically and mentally.
Which explains why they’re here now, on this island that Raven can only assume that it's a personal island owned by Price.
“You telling me you own this place?!”
“Ah well, I wouldn’t say “own”, birdie…”
She still doesn’t fully comprehend what he meant by that.
It was a much needed break, being surrounded by the ocean and forest, exploring the places, catching fishes and crabs.
Price hasn’t seen Raven smiled this much in a long time.
Raven witnessed a side of Price she had longed to see: relaxed, carefree, and at peace. Yet, beneath his newfound calmness, she sensed something off about Price that hinted at a deeper turmoil within him.
There were moments when he'd gaze into the distance, lost in thought, thinking.
Pondering.
This was, unfortunately, one of the many truths Raven had come to understand about Price.
More often or not that contemplative look of his means he is plotting or thinking ahead of things, which inherently, is not a bad thing.
It only became problematic when he kept these plans from her, setting things in motion without her knowledge.
Because that’s what Price does.
Plan, execute, reflect, repeat.
The other negative trait from this, is that it always means there is something he was harboring within that was threatening to break apart. Troubles he would rather deal with alone.
Things that slowly etched eats him out bit by bit on the inside.
Now, Price was a man of many many thoughts, meticulously organized into mental compartments, sealed, and cast into the abyss of the unknown.
A man who had no room for lingering emotions: guilt, anger, sadness – anything that could hinder his motives, his plans, his every step.
A man that is calm, quiet, composed and in control, with a constant battle inside he can never say or show.
Behind his eyes, Raven saw it all.
The ocean behind those eyes of his are no longer violent and roaring, similar to when they had to toss their belongings into a pool of fire after that last night in their home.
Freedom tastes like ash and anger after all.
His eyes are now shrouded in darkness, like the deep blue sea.
Suffering and screams muffled in silence.
Drowning.
━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━
“Up for a ride, birdie?”
“Sure”
It wasn’t uncommon for them to venture into the sea at night, they would drive out in their trusty lil boat (named Cash ‘n’ Fly) far enough until the horizon stretched endlessly, with a seamless line between the sea and the starry sky.
It creates an illusion of infinite space and solitude.
A small escape from everything.
What set this trip apart was the cigar hanging loosely between Price’s lips.
She counted the amount of cigar he used daily, and it was reduced to one or two per day during their break.
So to see him light it up, the fourth one of the day, right now, especially when it's dark and quiet, it could only mean one thing.
“You know…Eira”
And so it begins.
Everything but you.
She had anticipated this conversation, in some form or another.
She didn’t know it would be…this.
Leaving me with the island? I’ll have everything?
And I am supposed to be content with this?
Price was a hardened soldier, a veteran.
A seasoned Captain that has done enough chaos and has enough body piles up below him more than he could handle.
Battles stitched across his skin and back, hands coated in blood and regrets that clung onto his soul.
Far from a savior, close to a sinner.
Hands that were better suited for violence, instead of softness.
It should’ve been just another one of those moments, where he’d tell off some of his men, his soldiers, people who depended on him, boys and girls alike, to leave, to never come back.
To leave him.
So why is it so different when it comes to…the person before him now?
Why does this ache so differently?
What Price has in mind, doesn’t quite align with what John wants.
Needs.
John craves for the simplicity of being loved. Yearns for warmth and understanding, desperate for someone to look into his eyes and see the real him.
John thinks about Eira, thinks about her, her hands, her voice, and he wants more, more and more, a beast that is never satisfied, that can never get enough.
John wants to drown in love. In her.
Price fears that John loves more than he is ever allowed to.
Price wants what is right.
It’s for the best.
The one sentence that helps justify everything, doesn’t it?
“....”
Price watches as she stood up abruptly after a long uncomfortable silence, seeing her approaching the bow of the boat-
“Raven?--”
A loud splash was heard, and his body moved before he could process anything.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?? RAVEN??”
Raven, out of all the possible reactions he has anticipated, does none of what he expected and dives into the black sea.
“I'm going back to land!”
She yells back with a strain, huffing as she proceeds to swim to the general direction of where the shore was.
“That’s way too far!! You’ll freeze your arse before you could even reach it!!”
“GOOD, I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DIE IN THE OCEAN ANYWAYS”
“EIRA!!”
God dammit.
He quickly drove the boat, starting up the engine to propel the boat towards her, careful not to hit her as he quickly pulled her aboard.
“What–what are you trying to achieve by doing something stupid like this?”
“Nothing productive”
“Ei-”
He stops mid-sentence, seeing her freezing and trembling form, sea water coating her entire form as she shakes like a leaf on the wood.
For a split second, he wanted to ask if she cried, when he saw the red corners from her eyes.
Instead, he took off his jacket and outer shirt to wrap it around her.
The ride home was nothing but silence.
━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━
A letter and a necklace, that should be all.
Price thought to himself as he placed the necessary items on the table outside their room, with a heavy bag on his left as his thumb lingered on the necklace.
An owl head marble piece hangs at the end of it, an item he found comfort in whenever they were separated.
Not like it would be…of any use now.
He brushed it one last time, before heading out, leaving Raven behind.
At least, that’s what he intended to do, to leave behind the one person he had willingly, and stubbornly let into his life.
And now, he’s walking away like a mad man.
He sees Nik’s heli in the far distance, the sight both a relieving but solemn reminder of what is about to happen.
Usually, he wouldn’t think.
Just walk, it’s right there.
Yet, he stays rooted in the sand, as if waiting for a miracle.
“Is that it?!”
A shout made him flinch slightly, turning around only to be completely knocked down into the sandy beach.
“You think you can throw me aside like a doll, a birdie with songs you’ve grown bored of, is it?”
“Wha-”
A loud clean slap, with the sting now buzzing on his left cheek as his eyes widened.
“You– you don’t get to decide what’s right for me”
“Listen here you– prick! Old geezer whatever the fuck you are right now-”
“You only get to choose me once, you either live with me forever, or we live our lives apart”
“Can you live your life without me?”
“Eira–”
“Don’t you dare say anything other than to answer my questions”
A long uncomfortable silence stretched between them, as Raven stayed straddling his chest as he lay against the sand that felt like it was burying him up.
It wasn’t when he felt the warm drops of tears on his cheek that his eyes truly met her.
“....do I mean nothing to you? Am i…just another pawn for you in the grand scheme of things? That could be abandoned once you’re done?”
“What happened to staying together through thick and thin? What about the vows you exchanged when you put this ring on my finger?”
More tears streamed down her face, hands shakily but tightly gripping his collar
“Answer me, coward”
That finally broke Price out of the trance as he quickly reached up to cup her face, brushing away the droplets of pain and sorrow that dampened her delicate face.
“I have to go…”
“Why…? Just…just why?”
“I wrote everything in the letter-”
“I don’t care about the damn letter…tell me straight in the face”
“I can’t-”
“John, please”
“I CAN’T LOSE ANOTHER ONE–”
Now it was Raven’s time to pause, a frown that formed for a split second before it softened.
“....”
She sighs, letting go of his collar as she cradled his cheeks.
“....you know you won’t”
“That’s what I said to him too…you know”
“....it wasn’t your fault”
“sunshine…I called him sunshine…Eira….I-”
“You didn’t know”
“I should’ve…”
His eyes glistened as vision blurred, the months of unshed grief escaping, cascading down to the sand.
Price never got to grieve, it swirls inside, a little bit like a black hole, like infinity.
A small part of him is lost with every soldier and civilian he loses.
And Soap took a big chunk of him, a good part perhaps, one of his– kinder shards.
Another, is stuck frozen in the moment, in the tunnel. No goodbye, just an absence, sudden, abrupt end, a gunshot louder than any screams that ensues.
Price tends to get rid of grief, one way or another, because it reminds him of his mistake, because it feels like he is holding onto a lost cause.
But here’s the thing about loss, grief is hanging onto love.
It is why it is always felt at all times.
Even on days where he thought he’d healed, while other days it was like old wounds opening up deeper than before.
There was not a day where he wouldn’t miss his favorite Scottish gremlin.
And if his absence was strong enough that it makes it hard to breathe, he could only imagine what it would be like if Eira’s gone as well.
“I can’t lose you”
There is no more desperate creature, than a human being on the verge of losing love.
She sighs, leaning down as she lays down next to him on the sand ungraciously, staring up the sky with him
“....leaving me alone here on this island doesn’t guarantee my safety either, you know that right?”
“I have my people watching you here…”
“And a tsunami could come and drown us all”
“Well if that happens I would know-”
“No, no you won’t”
She can tell he was about to argue as she shushes him gently, turning to face him, uncaring for the sharp sandy stones that scratched into her ear.
“You can’t always take the blame for things out of your control”
She murmured, holding his palm
“...and you can’t let your worry cloud your conscious and…do something stupid like this”
“Don’t push me away, when you’ve already made a place in my heart that will never be replaceable by anyone.”
“....you think this was dumber than you jumping into the ocean?”
“Absolutely”
He chuckles lightly, raising a brow as he smiles.
“I don’t want to be…your regret, John”
She whispered, voice breaking a little
“Even if we were not meant to be together…we’ve proved that idea wrong, time and time again…”
He shifted, sitting up slightly as he pulls her onto his lap, hands brushing away the sand on her hair slightly (failing, sands are stubborn lil shits) as he lets out a quiet sigh
“I dream of a time where…the universe was never wrong to begin with, and you’re mine to keep…forever”
“Well you ought to pick a better dream”
She smiles, leaning up as she landed a small kiss on his nose
“This dream is already true, because Im yours forever, and ever”
“You are stuck with me, whether you like it or not”
“I suppose I am, aren't I…”
“Absolutely…”
He smiles, and hugged her tightly, everything about this felt neither wrong or right.
It felt like home.
“Now, are you going to continue mopping around in the sand or will Nik start throwing a tantrum when we get there? Last time he did he defied physics..."
“Im sure man’s busy with the coconuts and alcohol over there, plus we need to get your stuff–”
“It’s in your bag”
“my–what?”
He unzips the cover, and realize that somehow Eira’s sneaked her belongings inside
“No wonder it got heavier…”
“Im telling you, you’re an idiot”
He laughs slightly, ruffling her hair as they stood up, pulling her closer by the ends of her shirt as he kissed her forehead.
“Yes…but I’m your idiot…”
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Paul and Fishy: The Start of Something Beautiful
The dynamic duo are back:)
Big thanks for @crustyraccoon for suggesting a Paul and Fishy backstory fic!!! I hope y’all enjoy this:)
🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
“You can’t be serious,” Paul mumbled as he stared in disbelief at the fishbowl David had placed in his lap.
Dwayne cringed, “we got you a pet.”
Paul laughed dryly, “this isn’t a pet it’s sashimi,” he ground out through his teeth.
Marko bit his thumb nervously, “you…you don’t like him?” He asked.
Paul’s eyes narrowed, “you’re fucking with me,” he decided, “haha, very funny, where’s my dog?” He demanded.
David stepped forward, “we didn’t get you a dog. We got you a fish, you’re welcome,” he stated with eyebrow raised.
Paul placed the fishbowl to the side as he stood, “but why? I’ve been asking for a dog for weeks!” He reminded them.
David rolled his eyes, “maybe if you take good care of the fish we can talk about getting you a dog.” He lied.
“What?!” Paul exclaimed, “Dwayne didn’t need to prove he could take care of a fish before he got a dog!”
“Dwayne takes care of a child,” David said through gritted teeth.
“Dwayne takes care of a child,” Paul mocked in a high pitched tone.
“Paul…” Marko trailed off.
“Whatever,” Paul huffed, as he picked the fishbowl up, “enjoy your night assholes.” He grit while storming off.
“Yeah why don’t take some time and think about how you can be more grateful,” David yelled after him.
“I told you guys he’d do this,” Marko grumbled, still biting his thumb.
Dwayne shrugged, seemingly unphased by the whole ordeal, “give him time,” he assured the other two vampires, “he’ll come around.”
Paul stuck his fish bowl on his bedside table and rolled his eyes. “I wanted a golden retriever, not a goldfish,” he grumbled.
He pulled a vinyl from its sleeve and placed it on his record player. The harsh sound of “Shout At The Devil,” blared through his room.
Paul crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, as he sat on his bed and leaned back against the wall. He hoped they’d hear his music in the main hall over the noise of whatever they were up to, ‘It would serve them right for this bs they pulled on me,’ he thought to himself as he pouted.
As the lyrics played, Paul glanced in disdain at his new “pet,” but when he caught sight of the fish his face twisted in disbelief.
His fish was bobbing along to the beat. Paul leaned forward and rubbed his eyes, but he wasn’t imaging things, the little goldfish really was moving to the music.
“Do you like this song,” Paul asked the fish in disbelief, feeling a little foolish for trying to speak with a goldfish.
To his surprise, the fish seemed to blink back a response.
“You do? Does a blink mean yes?” Paul asked.
The goldfish blinked again.
Paul gasped, “you like Motley Crüe???” He asked the fish excitedly.
The goldfish blinked affirmatively.
“Me too man! I love Motley Crüe!” He told the fish, prompting the little goldfish to swim in a circle around his bowl enthusiastically.
Paul beamed as he pulled the fish’s bowl from his night stand into his lap. “What other bands do you like bud?” Paul questioned.
Fishy wiggled his fin and let out bubbles, but Paul just stared at him in confusion.
“Hmm this won’t work…” he trailed off while rubbing his head, “oh! I know!” He exclaimed as inspiration struck him.
He set the fish bowl down on his bedside table once more, and grabbed a handful of his records. He held his copy of Toys in the Attic up to the fish’s bowl. “If one blink is yes, blink twice for no, ok?” Paul proposed.
The goldfish blinked in response.
Paul smiled, “perfect,” he said. He tapped the vinyl.
The fish blinked once.
“Me too!” Paul told him, “I love Aerosmith!”
The fish’s fins wiggled excitedly.
Paul moved to the next album, Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death. Paul shot the fish an expectant look.
The goldfish blinked affirmatively again.
“ME TOO!” Paul exclaimed, “the Dead Kennedys rock man!” He told the fish.
The goldfish let out three bubbles happily.
Finally, Paul held up Master of Puppets and bit his lip.
The fish blinked one last time.
“Yes!” Paul shouted excitedly, “you have impeccable taste bud!” He assured the fish.
He put his vinyls away and moved to sit back on his bed and place the fish bowl in his lap, “I think we’re going to be very good friends,” Paul told the goldfish smiling.
The fish swam in circles, obviously excited by Paul’s words. Paul chuckled softly as he watched the fish race around his bowl.
“You sure do have a lot of energy bud,” Paul noticed, “I’m the same way, sometimes I just can’t sit still.”
The fish let out a bubble as he looked into Paul’s eyes, “you too? That’s crazy bud! It’s like we’re meant for each other or somethin” He said while smiling.
“I guess I should give you a name,” paul reasoned. His brow furrowed as he thought about what to name the rocker fish.
“You know what,” Paul started, “you look like a Fishy to me,” he decided,
The fish blinked once in reply.
“Yeah? Fishy? You like that?” Paul asked.
The goldfish blinked again.
“Alright then,” Paul smiled, “Fishy it is.”
Fishy let out three bubbles and wiggled his left fin.
“Sucks that I can’t really understand you,” paul pouted. Fishy blinked in agreement.
Paul sighed peacefully, “that’s ok,” he told Fishy, “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to learn.”
🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
Taglist❤️:
@dwaynesbiboyfriend @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @pixielostboy @anna1306 @solobagginses @heyriojude @its-freaking-bats @henhouse-horrors @mickkmaiden333
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