The next hours passed in fragments.
Voices.
Light.
Dark.
Ethan drifted in and out of consciousness as medics worked frantically around him. The medic tent buzzed with movement—footsteps pounding, stretchers being carried in, orders shouted over the noise.
But through it all, one voice cut through the haze.
Camila.
"Ethan, stay with us. You're not done. You hear me? You're not done."
He wanted to answer.
Say something.
But the words stayed locked inside him.
His eyelids felt too heavy to lift.
His body felt distant, disconnected.
Pain pulsed faintly—dull, far away—like his mind was floating above it.
Voices overlapped.
"He's losing consciousness again."
"Blood pressure dropping—get another line in."
"We need imaging."
"Our equipment is limited—do what you can."
The world blurred into patches of color.
Then darkness swallowed him.
---
Camila paced outside the tent, hands shaking despite the desert heat. Dust clung to her boots, but she didn't care. Her gaze kept darting to the tent entrance, waiting for a medic to emerge.
Every second scraped against her nerves.
He had to live.
He just had to.
She remembered him laughing the night they shared stories under the stars.
She remembered how he trained as if to outrun his past.
She remembered the quiet determination when he said Sofia's name.
A knot tightened in her chest.
A voice startled her. "Martinez?"
She turned to see Sergeant Hale approaching, his face grim.
"Yes, sir?"
"You were close to Bennett during the ambush?"
She nodded. "He took the impact head-on. I dragged him out."
"You saved his life," Hale said quietly.
Her throat tightened. "Not yet."
He hesitated. "Medical team is trying everything. But there's no guarantee."
Camila looked down, jaw clenched. "Sir… he can't die. Not like this."
Hale placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Let's pray he won't."
Camila swallowed hard. "Sir… what do we tell his emergency contact?"
Hale sighed heavily. "Protocol says no notification until status is confirmed."
"But his girlfriend—" she began.
"Martinez," Hale interrupted softly, "we don't even know if he'll wake up."
Camila's chest tightened painfully. She whispered, "He will."
Hale nodded once. "I hope you're right."
---
Across the ocean, Sofia sat in her small apartment, unable to move.
The military message stayed on her screen like a stain she couldn't wipe away.
She re-read it for the hundredth time.
Status under assessment.
Individual personnel—unknown.
Unknown.
Unknown was worse than dead.
Unknown was a cliff with no ground beneath it.
Her hands trembled as she finally pulled up Ethan's contact.
She typed:
Ethan, please tell me you're okay.
Please.
Please answer.
She hit send.
The message remained unread.
A sob escaped her lips, raw and painful. She pressed her fist to her mouth to muffle the sound.
"I should have gone after him," she whispered brokenly. "I should have told him sooner. I should have—"
Her phone buzzed.
Her heart stopped.
She lunged for it—
Only to see Camila's name.
---
Camila stared at the text she'd written for twenty minutes before finally hitting send.
Hi Sofia.
It's Camila.
You need to call me. Now.
She exhaled shakily.
She didn't want this responsibility. She didn't want to be the one to say the words.
But Sofia deserved something.
Anything.
Even if it was painful.
Her phone rang within seconds.
Camila answered immediately.
"Sofia?"
"Tell me," Sofia's voice broke on the other end. "Tell me what happened."
Camila's throat tightened.
"Ethan was injured," she said softly. "There was an ambush. He took a hit from a blast."
A sharp inhale. "Is he— Is he alive?"
"Yes," Camila said quickly. "Yes, he's alive. But he's unconscious. They're still evaluating."
Silence.
Then a choked question:
"Is he going to die?"
Camila shut her eyes, the honesty like a blade in her chest. "We don't know yet."
A sob cracked through the phone. Camila's eyes burned.
"He needs you," Camila whispered fiercely. "You're the one he thinks about. The one he writes to. The one he—"
She stopped herself.
Sofia cried softly. "I knew something was wrong. I woke up and I could feel it. I… I felt like my heart was tearing apart."
Camila's voice softened. "Because you love him."
Sofia whispered, "Yes."
Camila swallowed hard. "Then you need to stay strong for him. He's fighting. He's stubborn, he doesn't quit. You know that."
Sofia sniffed. "C-can I talk to him?"
Camila hesitated. "He's unconscious."
"Please… just put the phone near him," Sofia whispered. "I want him to hear something. Even if he can't respond."
Camila didn't hesitate.
"Okay. Hold on."
She pushed past the medics—who were too busy to stop her—and found Ethan lying still on the cot, oxygen mask covering half his face, IV lines running into both arms.
He looked pale. Too pale.
Camila's heart clenched.
She lifted the phone and held it near him.
"Sofia," she whispered, "he's here."
The line was silent for a moment.
Then Sofia spoke, voice trembling but clear.
"Ethan… it's me."
His eyelids didn't move.
His chest rose faintly.
Machines beeped steadily.
"I don't know if you can hear me," Sofia whispered, "but I need you to listen. You promised you'd come back. You promised me we'd have our chance. You promised you wouldn't leave again."
Camila blinked back tears.
Sofia's voice cracked.
"So please… please don't leave me. I love you, Ethan. Come back to me. Just… come back."
Camila felt something shift.
A flicker of movement.
Ethan's fingers twitched.
She gasped. "Sofia—his hand moved!"
"What? What do you mean?" Sofia cried.
"He can hear you. I think he's fighting."
Sofia sobbed in relief. "Keep talking to him! Don't stop!"
Camila held the phone near Ethan's ear again.
"Ethan," Sofia whispered desperately, "don't you dare give up. You hear me? I'm waiting for you. I'm not going anywhere. So come back. Come back to me."
His eyelids fluttered.
Just once.
Camila almost screamed. "He moved again! Sofia, he's responding!"
Sofia broke into tears—hopeful ones this time.
"Ethan," she whispered, "if you can hear me… come home. I'm right here."
---
The medic rushed over.
"What happened?" he demanded.
Camila choked out the words. "He— He reacted. She was talking and he—"
The medic checked his vitals, eyes widening. "His heart rate is stabilizing. Pressure rising. That's good—very good!"
Camila exhaled a shaky breath.
Sofia whispered through the phone, "Please tell me he'll live."
The medic didn't look away from the monitor. "If he keeps responding like this… he has a strong chance."
Camila nearly collapsed in relief.
Sofia sobbed openly.
And Ethan—still unconscious—moved his hand again, as if reaching for something.
Reaching for her.
---
The night faded into a tense, fragile dawn.
But for the first time since the ambush—
There was hope.