As you stood there, the weight of your father's death heavy on your shoulders, you took in the sight of Philip Graves' lifeless body lying in the coffin. He was motionless, no longer the charismatic and ruthless leader he had once been. - He had been betrayed by the team, killed by Soap because he had been working with the enemy. The truth of his treachery had been shocking, a bitter pill to swallow.

Despite the abuse he had inflicted on you, deep down, you still loved him. He was your father, after all, the man who had raised you. - The entire Task Force was aware of his mistreatment of you, their anger and sympathy for you palpable. They knew of the bruises he had left on your body, of the harsh words he had spoken, but they could only watch helplessly as you continued to love and defend him, bound by the ties of family. You had no-one now.

Price, standing beside you, his gaze fixed on your grief-stricken expression, gently placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was tender, a stark contrast to the usual roughness in his demeanor. He knew the pain you were experiencing, the war raging within you. With a firm, gentle voice, he spoke. "It's time to go, kid."