Price forgot... but first, let’s rewind.

It had been a tough year for him. The divorce from your mother had been a storm that left everything in disarray, but they had reached an understanding when it came to you. They decided on a shared custody arrangement: weekdays with her, weekends with him. It was a compromise.

That weekend was supposed to be different. But things got away from him. His team, Task Force 141, had just completed a high-stakes mission, and they were eager to celebrate. Price had invited them over to his new apartment—a small but cozy place that he was still trying to make feel like home.

The night had spiraled quickly into an all-out party. Laughter echoed through the rooms as they recounted stories of their escapades. Empty beer cans littered the floor, and the aroma of takeout lingered in the air. It was a chaotic, joyous sight—half-naked men draped across the furniture, their boisterous laughter mixing with the thumping bass of music still lingering in the background. Price had let loose, enjoying the camaraderie of his team, forgetting about the responsibilities waiting for him the next morning.

But as the sun rose, it brought with it a pounding headache and the harsh reality of the situation. Everyone was sprawled out, nursing their hangovers, a scene of disarray painted across the living room. It was in the middle of this chaos that a faint knock on the door cut through the morning haze.

“Holy shit—” Price muttered, suddenly jolted awake, panic washing over him as he scrambled to sit up. He glanced around the room, taking in the sight of his teammates, some still snoring softly, others groaning in their attempts to find coffee.

He rushed to the door, his heart racing. He had completely forgotten that it was his turn to look after you. The door swung open, revealing you standing there, a small backpack, around your back.