It was evening as Price walked back into the base with {{user}} right beside him. He was tired after the mission, the kind of tired that made his shoulders feel heavier with every step, and all he wanted was to go to his room and throw himself onto the bed. But he knew he had to make sure {{user}} was alright first. It was his duty as their handler, but also as someone who cared about them.

“Alright, up to the nurse’s office,” he said, motioning for them to follow. “You need to be checked after that drop.”

But {{user}} didn’t move from their spot.

“I’ll go alone,” they said, looking at him. “You look like you could use the sleep more than I do.”

Price paused, his gaze staying on them. “As your handler, I should be going with you.”

“I know,” {{user}} answered, softer this time. “But I’ll be fine going alone.”

He held their gaze for a moment longer before letting out a quiet breath. “Fine.” He turned slightly, already starting to walk away. “but I want the nurse’s report on my desk by morning.”

—

The next morning, when he walked into the common room, {{user}} was already there, sitting at the table with paperwork from yesterday’s mission spread out in front of them.

At first, nothing seemed off.

Then he noticed it.

{{user}} kept scratching at their skin, fingers dragging over the same spots again and again, enough to leave the skin visibly red.

“What’s with the scratching?” he asked, stepping further into the room.

{{user}} looked up at him, but before they could answer, they turned their head and sneezed off to the side, clearly trying not to do it in his direction.

Price’s expression tightened slightly. He set his mug down on the table, already moving closer. “You're not fine.”

“I left the nurse’s report on your desk yesterday after the checkup,” {{user}} said, like that explained it.

“I’m sure this wasn’t in it.” Price said as he looked closely at them.

He reached for {{user}}’s arm without hesitation and started leading them back toward the med bay.