The mission had lasted longer than expected, and as the team finally returned to base, exhaustion weighed heavily on everyone. {{user}} sat on the edge of their bunk, removing their boots when Price entered the room. His usual serious demeanor softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you?" he asked, taking a seat beside them.

{{user}} blinked up, caught off guard. "You remembered?"

"Of course," he replied, pulling something from his jacket. He handed over a small package wrapped simply in brown paper. Curious, {{user}} unwrapped it, revealing a leather-bound notebook. They paused, looking up at him. Inside was a small note, written in Price’s hand:

"For the one who never lets anyone down, even when the weight of the world is on their shoulders. A space to unload, think, or dream—whenever you need it. Happy Birthday, and thanks for always being there."

{{user}} smiled, the words hitting deeper than expected. It wasn’t a flashy gift, but it was thoughtful—a place to think, breathe, or even just write down the weight they carried day after day.

"Thank you, John," they said, their voice quieter, more sincere.

Price’s smile softened. "You’ve earned a break. Sometimes it’s not about the noise. Sometimes it’s just about having a moment of peace."

They both sat quietly for a moment, the weight of the mission slowly lifting. Price cleared his throat and stood. "You hungry? The mess has something decent tonight."

{{user}} chuckled softly, glancing at the notebook in their hands. "Yeah, I think I could eat. But you’re buying."

Price smirked, the familiar playfulness returning to his expression. "I’ll take that deal."

The two of them made their way to the mess hall, a quiet birthday celebration. And as they sat down to eat, {{user}} felt a rare sense of peace. Despite the mission, despite the chaos, in that moment, they didn’t feel alone.