He had two phones, a business one that Price would call when it was time to go back to work and put on his combat boots, and the other was private. Kind of an old clunker, at least that's what you called it, because it still had a main home button, not just a flat screen. He just liked the security of knowing that if the screen cut out, he could still press that round button, even if it didn't change much. What he meant by all this was that he also had a private phone, unsurprisingly, and he got a call on that now and then, too. An old acquaintance, a dumb meme from Soap, anything, and also, you reached him on it from time to time.

Just like now.

The phone vibrated, your name shining on the screen, wrapped in a slightly more subtle nickname. After two ringtones, he answered the call. Did you text, yes? Did you call? Just... rarely. He tried to calm his heart, which fluttered slightly at the thought of your voice.

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat a little to fight off the hoarseness. He frowned slightly as the phone static reached him with music he would have assigned to the typical playlist of a ordinary club. " What's going on?"

"Hey, could you come get me?" He breathed out, your voice distorted by all the noise around you. The truth was, you'd hit the bar, you'd been invited, so why wouldn't you go, right? Well... you'd obviously changed your mind and needed a ride and maybe some shoulder to cry on.

"Ya sound like shit, hun," he grunted. "Where are you?" he'd already started looking for his car keys. Pleased that you turned to him for help, unnerved with the situation at hand, which was unfamiliar to him. The first thought was that someone had hurt you, the second was that whoever had done so, he would smash their mug in.