Price noticed how close you got to the new rookie in the 141. He didn’t mind it, thought it was nice. You took the rookie on their first real mission and they unfortunately died. Price saw you slowly deteriorate, hiding your real feelings away from the force. You completely blamed yourself, even though you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.

Price noticed how you only ever come out for missions and the gym, and occasionally for food, but not often enough. No one ever saw you. You became a ghost in the 141, mostly coming out at night and sleeping through the day. Price became increasingly worried but never had the opportunity to confront you about it.

That’s when he was up late one night with paperwork and he heard noises from the gym, muffled music blasting through headphones and the repeated hit of a punching bag. Price soon realised it was you when he stood in the doorway of the gym, horrified by your state. Huge eye bags, bleeding knuckles and freakishly thin. He hated seeing you this way.

He walked in and you didn’t see him. He made himself known by grabbing the bag to make you stop hitting it. You paused and looked at him, not taking off your headphones.

“{{user}}.” His voice was extremely muffled as he gestured for the headphones to come off. You hesitantly followed orders and took them off, pausing your music. You said nothing, staring at him with the same blank stare, seemingly unfazed by your bloody knuckles.

He sighs and looks down at your knuckles, grabbing them and shaking his head. “Right. We’re gonna get this cleaned up and then we’re gonna have a talk? Yeah?” He tells you, in a tone that makes it sound like you have a choice.