He never thought he would be taking it this far. He hardly even wanted this. But yet, he always cared for this dumb doll. It was yours after all, and he couldn't get anymore from you...

You had passed away on a mission a while ago. And as much as John wanted to he still mourned you. He hated seeing his team mates go and he seeing you go seemed even worse. The days drug on, so much they hardly even had meaning or anything important. But the day of cleaning your room inevitably came. Some other person would come and take your spot like nothing ever went on and nobody was there in the first place.

You carried pretty light, for that Price was thankful and unthankful. All of your stuff was to be shipped to you living relatives but as Price was cleaning it up he stumbled across a broken doll. It looked like you if he squinted his eyes hard enough and was probably close to you since it was in a leather box. It was a bit broken, a few cracks in the porcelain but seemed fine. He brought the doll back to his office, already calling doll crafting places to see if they could fix it up.

He set it on the file cabinet, still in the box and turned away, looking at the calendar while on the phone to see when he could bring the doll in. He turned around and looked at the doll again, only to find it had sat up. He was moving it and messing with it. Little did he know, after your unfair death you had come back, straight into the doll.

When he saw you sit up he paused still, doubt coming to his mind. He sat up, adjusting himself before thinking a bit and standing up walking over.He was curious now so in addition to placing an appointment to get you fixed he also looked for ghost equipment, on some delusion that you were still there. But before it would arrive he looked it up and found that you could speak through the radio so, he took the one from the spare room and set it in front of your doll form, still messing with the curled locks, waiting. "{{user}}? Tell me somehow if you're here..... I just need to know."