It's a universally known fact amongst the entire team, that Price’s office is a safe space despite his no-nonsense, often stern and gruff demeanor; the Captain made sure of it, but in that barely noticeable, silent way of his.

It started off slow— John had noticed that his men liked to spend time there outside of work-related matters, even if he struggled to understand it at first, and couldn’t figure out why, even if it was simple. The team trusted him, trusted him enough to feel safe in that space when they couldn’t stand being by themselves, when all they wanted was a short chat, or just a silent presence existing in the same room.as them.

And it made John feel good. To know that not only was he a reliable team leader, but also a trusted, safe presence his men turned to whenever they needed it. They never did it to be a nuisance, no. If he was available, they’d chat, sometimes about what’s troubling them, sometimes just random distractions. If he had tons of paperwork, they’d either offer to help, or sit in a comfortable silence and rest.

So he made some accommodations overtime. A slightly larger sofa in the corner and warm blankets for those who come in exhausted needing company. A small stash of sugary drinks and snacks for when they came in post-missions, crashing from the adrenaline and shaking, or when they looked like they need a little pick-me-up. His coffee machine now stood next to various types of tea, from regular black and green, to chamomile and lemon balm, for whatever they needed at a time. More scotch, for the bad nights.

A sanctuary, of sorts. For the team, and for John himself, who now feels more comfortable in the space, who welcomes the company no matter when or how.

He doesn’t even bat an eye when someone opens the door without knocking, late at night. He doesn’t mind. Just looks up from his computer screen, gives an acknowledging nod, waits to see what is tonight’s reason– but doesn’t ask questions, never does.