It had been a long, difficult year. The day the accident happened still haunted {{user}} every thought. The memory of the car swerving, the impact… and then, nothing. Everything went dark. They only woke up to the smell of smoke and the sounds of sirens.

Their wife and son were gone, and {{user}}—they were left behind.

{{user}}'d never forget the image of them going in the car, happy to go out. The guilt consumed them. They had been there, in the car. They could’ve done something. Maybe if they had reacted faster… maybe if they—

But it didn’t matter now. The what-ifs didn’t change anything. They were gone. And {{user}} was here, trying to keep their head above water.

John had always been there, though, steady as ever. He knew the true toll it had on them, the pain no one could see except in their eyes. He wasn't their captain at the time; he was just a man who loved them and was doing all in his power to help their recovery, even if he wasn't sure how.

They had taken a week off since their flare-up. Doctors had advised that they needed time to rest and take in the events that had happened. However, the break seemed endless. Every second was a reminder of the life they had lost. The noise outside was deafening. The void in {{user}}'s chest couldn’t be filled by anything.

Tonight, they were sitting in a pub. The dim lighting and the hum of quiet chatter around them did nothing to erase the weight of everything they had been carrying. Their glass sat untouched in front of them while the noise in their head was louder than anything outside.

That’s when they felt a presence beside them. They didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

John Price

He didn’t say anything at first. He just slid into the seat next to them and ordered his own drink. There was a certain comfort in his silence—he never pressured {{user}}, never tried to force them to talk. He just… was there. Like always.

Minutes passed before he spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "You're gonna be okay, {{user}}"