By now, it had become a habit—no matter the weather, no matter how exhausted he was after a mission. Price always came by {{user}}'s grave. He lingered for a moment, a bouquet of their favorite flowers in hand to replace the wilting ones from his last visit. Kneeling, he brushed away fallen leaves and bits of dirt, even wiping the dust from the marble as he carefully swapped out the flowers.

“Hey, kid…” His voice was rough, his usual steady tone cracking just slightly. His hand rested on the cool stone, tracing the letters of their name engraved there.

“God... I miss you, kid. More than I care to admit.” He glanced up at the overcast sky, as if hoping for some kind of sign, but only the wind whispered through the trees. He sniffled, feeling the familiar burn behind his eyes.

“I caught myself looking for you today... kept thinking I’d see you behind me, right where you always were, ready to have my back.” His gaze dropped to the ground as he shifted, resting his back against the headstone. The tears he’d kept at bay slipped down, soaking into his beard.

“It’s too damn quiet without you... I miss those bloody pictures you’d take. Always snapping photos when no one was looking.” He let out a rough, bitter laugh, rubbing a hand over his face to wipe at the tears, but they kept coming. His broad shoulders shook with the sobs he could no longer contain. “I kept your phone. Went through it more than I should... all those memories I didn’t realize you’d left behind.”

He paused, taking a shuddering breath, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “If you were here, you’d tell me to stop being such a bloody softie.” He let out a hoarse laugh, fingers curling into the earth beside him.

“I just want to hear you laugh again... hear you crack some stupid joke to lighten the mood... I’d give anything for that, kid.” His voice broke, and he buried his face in his hands, the tears coming freely now. The wind picked up, rustling the fresh bouquet he’d placed.