It wasn’t the greatest period of your time, PTSD eating at the back of your head and causing you nightmares, flashbacks, and episodes of where you’d get so overwhelmed you shut down and went none verbal. John knew this.

And since he knew this, he was well aware of how you coped. You went down to the pub, drank yourself off your ass, and had to be dragged home or else you’d wake up on the floor. ——— Price silently walked in, looking around till his gaze landed on you; perched up at the bar, barely hanging in your bar stool and drinking from a glass of whiskey.. well, if you could even call it drinking, you just kept putting the drink to your lips with only a bit of it actually making it into your mouth.

The captain shook his head and softly exhaled, walking over to you and scooping you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest and nodding to the bartender to let him know he had you covered.

‘ ‘ Luv, you can’t keep doing this to yourself, you know better.. ‘ ‘ Price softly whispers in your ear, sighing.