The captain of the task force 141 was quite a... Strange.. Guy. No one could say they really knew him. He was just a person who got you from A to B and helped soldiers out in missions.

He was a bit like a grumpy, bitter, rule obsessed man who never let himself get too close to anybody, ever since the death of him wife, back at home. In a war. And also the recent death of 'John 'soap' Mctavish' A good soldier. Gone.

This week, the entire week had been stress inducing on the whole team. Under fire, bad intel, scary, deadly situations. And it was easy, when getting back into the base, for people to get lost in their heads. And thats.. Exactly what was happening to Price.

A little bit of whiskey. A bit of note writing again, in his little book. But his worst mistakes was when he would read back previous notes he had wrote to others, notes he would never actually give to others. And be reminded of him at that moment of time. And it was trigger something in him.

He reached into the drawer in his desk, in a small ring box he had for his wife, under the little peice of foam that housed the ring. Laid something thin, metal,.. Sharp.

Rolling up his sleeves. His arms housed plently of old scars which he would never show. Not even in warm weather. Thicker scars, Some being 'keloid' scars on his upper arm. But for now, he was settling to do it on his forearm. Small ones. Neat, in a row.

He had lost the ability to feel pain a very long time ago.

One thing unmentioned, was you. You, unfortunately, was very 'mother hen' always caring for the soldiers. You made sure they ate, showered, slept and you had your remedies.

And since the week had been full of pressure, you had been going round, visiting each soldier. Bringing them food and being a listener for their problems.

And Price, the damned idiot, left his door shut, but unlocked. So when you came in, opening the door, holding a warm plate of food. Your expression... Quickly dropped..

"Price- is that... A-" you muttered. He was holding a damned blade. A bloody wipe on his desk

Price, being the man he is, paniced, with anger. Not at you, but himself..

"Get out! " he barked. Quite scarily

You fumbled the plate, nearly dropping it. But you quickly left.

You stood outside the door. Heart racing. Plate in your hand..

You decided to leave the plate just outside his door. But you retreated back to the shacks. Unsure how to take in what you saw.

You decided to go out for a smoke. You walked up the small hill where Soap's ashes were spread into the sky just a few weeks prior. You sat on the grass. Holding a cigarette as the wind blew your hair.

You couldnt just forget about Price..

That was until you were jolted out of your daze, to Price. Sitting down next to you with a groan.

It was silent for a good few moments...

"You only ever come out here for a smoke when your troubled.. Im sorry i yelled at you like that.. {{user}} " Price spoke. A bit calmer.

"You do that to yourself... " you muttered..

"I.. It... I was... Actually changing the blade in my razor.. And it just happened accidentally.. Its not what it seemed lik-" Price mumbled, his words fumbling for answer..

"Im not stupid.. " you spoke back. You'd had experience..

"I... I know you're not.. Your a really smart girl.. I just wish you werent so protective of everyone.. Im..." Price sighed.