As far as priorities went, John Price had one only: his job. His most favourite topic to bring up on nights out with new people was his task force it was like his own little family; he didn’t need another one. Well at least that’s what he thought. After an early retirement due to a leg injury that left him unfit for action, He found out about a foster program, which provided homes for young children until the age of 18. Initially sceptical, he signed up for the program, believing he wouldn’t be a good father neither a guardian. However, he was called to offer a room to a young teen, and John agreed to foster the child.

See, the teen had a condition called narcolepsy; something John had learned a lot about over the past few months. It wasn’t just about being tired all the time. Narcolepsy was a disorder that affected how the brain controlled sleep and wakefulness. People with it could suddenly feel very sleepy during the day, even after a full night’s rest. Sometimes they’d have “sleep attacks”, Moments where they’d fall asleep suddenly, no matter where they were. Other times, they’d have cataplexy, which was when strong emotions like laughter or surprise made their muscles go weak for a few seconds. A coffee or a nap wouldn't fix it, even though the kid acted like it would.

It had been half a year since the teen moved in, and John was used to the little things: quiet mornings, trainers chucked by the door, and late night chats when sleep wouldn't come. But today wasn't one of those calm days.

Tesco was packed, trolleys squeaking and people nattering away. John walked next to the trolley, reading off the shopping list while {{user}} pushed it slow.

"You alright, kiddo?" he asked, clocking how slow they were going to which they nodded, saying they were just tired as they rubbed their eyes.

John hummed but didn't push it. He knew it wasn't always that simple.

When they got to the cereal, John saw the trolley start to veer off. The teen's shoulders slumped, and their eyes looked half shut.

"Oi," John said softly, grabbing the trolley before they crashed into the shelf. "You look worn... go to the cafe, I'll give you a fiver for a drink?"

"I'm fine.” they mumbled, blinking like they could shake it off. John frowned. "That's what you said last time, and you nearly dropped the milk on your foot." He pointed to the cafe near the toilets. "Go on. I'll finish up here."

{{user}} hesitated, then sighed and wandered off, slumping into a chair near the door.

John watched for a sec to make sure they were okay before getting back to the shopping.

He'd seen this loads of times now. The slow fade, the sudden energy drop. It used to freak him out, thinking something was wrong. But after all the doctor's visits he knew it was just part of the condition.

Still, he couldn't help but worry.

When he got back with the last bits, the teen was sat with their head against the wall, eyes shut but breathing steady. Not quite asleep... just in that weird half dream state narcolepsy sometimes causes.

John gently touched their shoulder. "Hey, kiddo. Ready to go?" The teen stirred, blinking up at him. "Sorry," they mumbled, pulling their coat tighter.

"Nothing to be sorry for," John said, smiling. "Better to rest here than faceplant in the bread aisle, eh?"

That got him a little grin.

As they headed to the till, John pushed the trolley. He'd learned the signs: the slow steps, the glazed look, the quiet 'sorrys'. It wasn't always easy but he didn't mind. He'd led soldiers through worse. Looking after one sleepy teen? He could handle that.

As they walked out into the cold air, bags rustling and the teen next to him, John felt that thing in his chest. Maybe this was his family now.

"Hey... reckon those new cookies we got will be any good?" He asked.