For those who are sensitive to the subject of suicide, please don't read this chapter.
"Ghost, did Roach come to the range by any chance?" John spoke into his radio as he and Price walked a steady pace to the barracks.
"No," Ghost spoke, "Another minute and he'll be skipping his morning meal."
John sighed, and Price glanced over, "Penny for your thoughts, Soap?"
"Mm... I guess I should've talked to him sooner."
"The lad?"
"Yes. Hell, I've known for so long, but his performance on the frontlines just caught me off guard. He's bloody good. But dammit... We can't send him back home."
"Why's that?"
"That'll only give him another chance to try again; This time he might actually have a variety of methods he could choose from to get killed."
"I see. But he can't stay here either. It's just... How it's always been, and I think it's better that he leaves so he won't have to fight this war. It'll probably break his mind even more to the point where it drives him insane."
Before John could say more, he stopped himself as they got close to Gary's room. The door was closed, and like always he knocked first. "Roach, you in there? We need to speak with you-" But he was cut off as he heard sounds of choking and gagging from the other side. "Bloody hell..." Price cursed as he also knocked, louder this time, "Lad, talk to us! What's going on in there?!" He tried the door, but found that it was locked. Both captains had a feeling of dread as they weird Gary wheezing and choking in there.
Oh lord, what did he do to himself?! It wasn't long after when Price's boot connected with the door, breaking it open was the ran in only to see Gary laying on his side, one hand on his throat and the other clutching the carpet below him. "Gary!" He crouched down to the floor, rolling the younger man on to his back as he ordered, "Price, fetch a doctor! Now!"
Price wasted no time running out of the room as the other captain tried to get Gary to look up at him. He was dripping in cold sweat as he shook from being cold. Along with being pale, his pupils were dilated, expressing absolute horror and fear. "Lad, come on," John made the younger man look at him, "Talk to me! Say something!"
Gary still had his hand on his throat, and he gasped breathlessly as he spoke inaudibly, as if to say, "I can't..."
John hugged him close in hopes that he could get warmed up from this, "Keep your eyes open. Price is getting a medic." Gary wheezed again, tears breaking from his eyes. "You'll be okay... You'll be okay..." John kept repeating quietly as he kept his eyes on the younger man, who shook almost violently in his arms as he struggled to breathe. His eyes gazed up to the ceiling, his vision blurred with tears and dulled with slight darkness. It was at that moment when Gary was hit with a series of images, and his mind was cleared enough only to think, Life really does flash before your eyes...
He could see through the eyes of his young self, but the first image he saw was a woman, grabbing him by his hair before shaking him violently as she shouted how worthless he was. This was his step mother, and the next thing he saw his father, removing his belt only to beat him down with it as he too said a series of words that rendered him useless and weak. Everything Gary saw were the things he wished he never lived through. I've always been living in hell; I've always been living in this fucked up world since the day I was born. His life flashed in white again, but this only brought him back to when his parents were shouting at him again. Gary could remember this day so clearly. This was three years ago when his dad told him to go enlist in the military. He didn't care what branch, he just wanted to reason to be proud of his son for once. Gary remembered, This isn't what I wanted! I didn't want to be a soldier! I didn't want to fight! I didn't want any of this!
His life flashed back to present day, and he saw it wasn't just Mactavish who was with him. There was Doc and... An old man who only assumed could be "Price" considering what John said. Next to his head was a horrid mixture which he identified as his own vomit. He knew that he must've thrown up unconsciously during all of this, and he could clearly see that it was a nasty combination of blood, bile, and pills. Despite being able to get some of the air back into his lungs, he still felt numb. He couldn't feel anything or hear anything being said. Am I finally dying? Is that what's happening...? This felt a lot different than being stabbed in the gut. It was a lot more painful considering how his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and how he was unable to move after the handful of pills made his bones limp and heavy. The last thing he finally saw before falling into pitch black was an oxygen mask being placed on his face.