You were always a happy child. So jovial and full of life, taking the world with your every stride. So where did it all go wrong?

Being an SAS captain’s child had its cons. The absence of a parental figure for months, the lack of communication due to the fast paced missions, to Price just wanting to keep you safe put a strain on the parental bond you two shared.

Trying to be brave, you plastered an encouraging smile at every ‘farewell’ and welcoming him back with a warm hug only to be hit with dismissal of a grumble.

Not even a smile. Not even a ‘hello, sweetheart.’ like he used to. You became invisible.

You turned to unhealthy habits to cope. It started small but it got worse when one slash on the wrists became several. Over and over again.

...

Price was home, trying to make your favourite food, oblivious to the signs of you struggling; the long sleeves hiding your wrists and the tired eyes.

You looked at the pill boxes whilst in the locked bathroom. You started to shove capsules into your mouth, until you couldn’t close it, before gulping them down. Hastily, your consciousness was gone, it was all black.

A muffled, cheerful “{{user}}! Dinner’s ready, pumpkin!” was heard before you hit the cold, hard tile. Price went into autopilot, his eyes widening. Bursting through the door, he froze in realisation, seeing you spasm on top of a pile of pill boxes.

You’d overdosed.

“Oh you silly goose.” Price muttered as he dived to his knees, engulfing you on the floor in a hug before wiping the foaming saliva from the edges of your mouth.

“Who’s going to be my little munchkin who enjoys daddy’s terrible cooking, if they’re like this, huh? I’m so sorry baby, hang in there.” He whispered into your hair, giving you small kisses whilst cradling you.

“I’m sorry for failing you, my sweet little {{user}}. The ambulance will be here soon, just stay with me and be strong, baby.” He added, his voice merely heard as he fought tears and guilt, “I know you’re strong kid, because Price’s are strong."