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The task force worked hard to make a safe environment, not just for the world, but for the smallest of their little team, in the holiday season. Hours of worked piled up just before the holidays, threats they needed to smother before the flame caught the surrounding area. They did it well, with an air of confidence around their movements that eased each other's nerves just as well as it unsettled the exact people they wanted it to.
Finally, when they got to settle away from work, far from the heft of weapons in their hands, the crackle of a fire was much more welcoming. The captain knows how to tug all the right strings to get him, and his boys, home. Home, not base. Though, one member always fought against the offer to go home. It's a process, they all know, especially with date growing closer to the twenty-fifth…
The smallest member of their team, Simon Riley, fights restlessly to avoid going. In his mind, home meant unsafe, a place he'd never crawl to if he was bleeding out. That's all he's known his entire life, and yet, the captain takes it at Ghost's speed and lets him decide when he's ready to leave. He's always shown up last minute with a cloudy head and teary eyes.
Never once has John regretted the choice, either. Not while he gently wiped his tears, not while he tucked a blanket around his boy's shoulders as he buckled his seat belt in the car, not when he whimpered as Christmas music was the first thing on the radio… It's merely an accommodation for him, things with simple solutions. No reason to stress, not for a single second. Even though the sound of a sniffle or a whimper made his heart ache; that's a part of being a Caregiver John knows well.
He's had practice with the others, with Kyle and Johnny. Every problem had a solution, and he knew well enough at this point to ease each of his boys' pain. An almost flawless fix was always gentle touch, and when Simon whimpered from the backseat the further they drove into the snowy weather, he'd look back and see Kyle or Johnny holding his hand ever so softly—as if they were scared he'd break—to help who they affectionately call 'the baby'. Only because he was so much smaller than them, he regressed so small compared to the others. Sometimes he did fear that he would break the little one when he'd scoop him up from his bed to calm his tossing and turning.
This Christmas, John was well equipped for whatever would be thrown at him. As the Caregiver for a gaggle of Littles, on holiday, at his house, he had to be prepared. Truly, that was one of the best parts, too. Anticipating the grins, and tears, all at the same time, and knowing he'd be there to make them smile again. The house was stocked, he'd prepared small gifts last leave—despite the time between—since the one thing he was consistently asked for was blankets, toy cars, whatever cool jacket Johnny wanted this year, and him, just him. Price could give them those things. God knows he'd never leave.
One thing that always sat heavy in the captain's heart, however, was the firm insistence—in the form of tears—that there be no decorations. No Christmas lights, no tree, no ornaments, no garland. It broke his heart to have seen the tears in Simon's eyes as he desperately tried to tell John how scary it was last year, after Ghost clearly had done his best job to keep it down, to keep all the tears and fuzziness far away. He understands, and despite the disappointment, so did Gaz and Johnny.
All the boys wanted were each other, year after year, a family none of them had really had before. Each of them chalked it up to not being good enough, Price himself had managed to fall to that conclusion years ago too. But, in his arms, he held the most precious things in the world, and had made it his job to make them feel loved. He won't fail this year, when it's the four of them somewhere safe, somewhere they trust him to keep them safe.
The house has a chill to it as the four of them crowd inside the foyer, the sight of their breathing long gone when the door finally shuts. It's quiet; the first thing John notes as bags are dropped at the bottom of the stairs. Well, he should say that it was quiet. When Soap and Kyle run up the stairs, it's very much not quiet anymore. The sound of the two of them already talking among themselves as they run puts a smile on his face.
Ghost's hesitant figure remains close to John, big brown eyes watching as he turns the heating on just by the doorway to the open kitchen. Everything is painted in a thin layer of dust, cold moonlight making it look almost blue on the counter tops. He's unstable on his legs, evident by the more he sways before a hand firmly plants itself on Price's coat.
"It's okay, Simon." Is the first thing out of Price's mouth at the touch, he turns to gently hold his regressing lieutenant from any kind of tumble. "How about we get you into something warmer, hm?" Tiny code for something comfy, pajamas if they want. Though, in Johnny's case, one of the captain's shirts despite the weather.
The other's eyes flicker around the dimly lit downstairs, as if he's searching for something before gently nodding to John's voice. Near absently, fearful, if he looks close enough. He can't take away all the scary in just a second, but he can lift Simon up with a grunt and carry him up to their nursery-like room. Before Simon, Johnny occupied the space the most, and now Simon takes a lot of the time when he regresses so frequently when he's here, safely wrapped in John's warmth.
"I know it's scary, love…" The Caregiver mutters into Simon's hair. His arms strain to carry the heavy weight of his Little, but he doesn't dare express it. This is exactly why he worked so hard in the gym, to carry his boys wherever they wanted or needed—or, even if they just wanted to be held—whenever they wanted.
The only response he gets is a small whimper of displeasure at each step up the stairs. If Simon's face quickly being tucked into his shoulder, his fists grabbing messily at his jacket, didn't say small, he didn't know what did. To others, Simon's silence was a normal, every day occurrence, not just him being small, but he's the one that notes the way his shoulders raise, when he worries his lip between his teeth behind the mask, when he begins to fidget with his gloves… Price knows his boys' tells better than he knows his own stress cues.
"Gonna get you warm and cozy, lamb, yeah?" His steps grow more quiet as he gets to the second floor, the door to the nursery just to his left. He already checks off what outfit he'll grab… While definitely ignoring the fact that they all could probably do with a shower, or a bath. The drive over had enough tears already, the last thing they needed was that painful, terrified wail at the mere idea of a bath.
A quiet 'mhm' follows his prompting. That's really all it takes to know just how small he's going to regress… Teeny Tiny Simon Riley. John grins at the thought—it only makes sense that he'd be so small. They're all lucky it wasn't a crash that made him drop, no scared screams, no bruises, no hurt. Just fears John could wash away, he was sure.
Even with the slight chill of the room, they easily slip Simon into something more comfortable and get him bundled up into a blanket. A while ago, Ghost would've kicked and cried at being slightly restrained, but now, he leans into John's warmth and breaths in slow inhales. His blond curls now fluffed up once being quickly combed and settled. No matter how big and buff his lieutenant was, John felt like he was holding the smallest thing each time.
"There he is," Price coos as he sways with him in his arms, "my little lamb…" He breaths. The smallest sound comes from Simon as he blinks up at John—god, how can he be so little?—brown eyes focused just on him, the caregiver holding him as if he was his entire world. And with the sounds of Kyle and Johnny (loudly) playing in the next room over, John really did have his whole family within arms length, and it was more than he could ever have asked for.
"m'ma…" It's barely audible, Simon's lips parted with soft breaths. His rosy cheeks make him look just that much smaller. Little. So little…
"I've got ya, mama's here, Si." John settles the Little in his arms, delicately adjusting the blanket if it moves the slightest bit. He's got him, it's okay. He clips a pacifier to Simon's shirt and gives it to him. They're at home, he can hear the laughter a room over, he can hear the light hum in Simon's chest, matching the rumble in his own chest as he talks.
Realistically, he knows there's food that needs to be made, he knows Simon needs something light on his hungry stomach. They'd driven so long, only with a stop to take care of needs and a small snack before they were back on the road. So, back downstairs he needed to go… With a cuddled up, bundle of tiny in his arms. A journey he made many times, yet always makes his heart rate climb with worries. What if he drops his little one? It's never happened, but the worry sits just as heavy in his chest.
Simon doesn't seem to mind, where he's settled carefully in John's arms to walk downstairs, he's the one that seems to trust John's abilities more than Price himself. It's always been like that, at least in the field. If he was displeased, he'd grumble, John is well aware of that. His trust does settle his jump in heart beat just a bit, if Simon is calm, he can relax too.
The other boys' laughter seems to follow them as he makes it downstairs, just to see the Kyle and Johnny with big grins and their toy cars running along the walls of the stairway. A deep breath is pulled from his lungs, his tensed shoulders drop a tad. Yes, this- this is exactly what he's been missing… Being at home. His boys settled into their own little thing, Johnny rowdy as usual while Kyle gladly comes along with his troublesome schemes, and a comfortable bundle of Simon Riley in his arms. That's exactly the way he wants it. And all it took for them to settle in was a few minutes. The older of the Littles had already shed their winter wear and gotten into pajamas, too.
"I see you found your cars." The captain can't help his soft laughter as he takes slow, steady steps to the living room. Faster, heavier steps accompany him as they rush to fall onto the rug. Maybe that's his fault, though, a car mat rug in the living space… At least he hadn't tripped on a car in a long while.
"Mama, look what this does!" He hears Kyle squeak from behind him.
"Oh yeah?" John meets Gaz with the same enthusiasm when he turns around. He'll sit in a moment, once he watches everything his kiddo wants to show him—even if he's seen it a million times before. Their smiles fulfill him more than any job could.
"Look!!" Gaz smiles, ear to ear. The car bends and transforms into a little car character—a transformer if John remembers correctly—then back into a car again. The kiddo even runs the car gently over John's arm to show him that the wheels still work and roll.
"Your car is so cool!" He's more hushed, to be softer on his little lamb's ears, "Do you have more like that?" He engages, swaying steadily with a sleepy Simon in his arms.
"Johnny has one! Can he show you??"
Of course, Price gladly nods. He knows these cars inside and out by now, but he will very, very happily watch his boys talk about them over and over if it makes them smile. His leg feels for the padding of a recliner before putting in the ab workout that is sitting down with a ton of extra weight on his front. He bites back the pained sound when he feels his back pop.
Eagerly, Johnny waddles up to the chair and sits back on his knees as he shows off the toy—Price can't fathom how he crawls like that with his injured knee, but he doesn't question it, and merely braces for the medicine he'll have to give Johnny later for it—Another little car that transforms back and forth from car to person. He contently listens to Johnny's half coherent babbles about it, while he glances up to see Kyle crashing two cars together on the mat.
It might be a lot at times, but this is where his heart feels the lightest and his head stops spinning with fear of loss. His boys are all right here.. Safe and sound.
Johnny's rambles come to an end when Gaz groans for him to come back to the rug map. Something about a shark attack to the city, John doesn't ask. Instead, he looks down at Simon. His big eyes focused outside the window they sit by, entranced by something.
The neighboring house to John's is decorated to the highest level. Lights, inflatables, anything and everything. For a moment, he curses himself and goes to reach for the blinds, but first looks a little closer at Simon's expression.
Relaxed, steady breathing, calm face, just big, curious eyes. The lights sparkle in the reflection of his eyes. He can see perfectly out of the window, out to the neighboring yard. Though, his eyes focus on an open window with a big, decorated tree. It spins, as if on display.
"Isn't it pretty?" John whispers, slightly adjusting Simon to let him see outside better. He understands, it is pretty… But it conflicts in his head; Simon panicked around decorations here, and at base. How different was it for him to see others? Could he, before Christmas came, take the three of them to look at lights? If Simon likes it so much? He used to go with Kyle and Johnny, but Simon's fear made it difficult, so they stopped. Does he really like the lights?
"Mmhmmm…" Simon coos, a happy little sound. One John's been aching to hear throughout the stressful day. He likes the lights. Is that progress? Or is it different if he doesn't have to be inside with the decorations?
Price doesn't ask, he doesn't have to, not right now. He can let his little one have this moment. If he knows how enthralled Simon gets by the moving baby mobiles, he's sure this might put him to sleep too. He can't bring himself to mind… Not when he's this precious.
Ghost wiggles just the tiniest bit in John's lap. Each time the neighbor's tree makes a full spin, he nearly cackles. In true tiny fashion, if John attempts to give Simon his pacifier, he spits it back out in favor of laughing at the display.
It's adorable. There hasn't been a single time he can think of where Simon enjoyed anything Christmas related. And to be smiling, and giggling here, in his arms, over the neighbor's lights, made John's heart melt. He could count on one hand the times he's seen that weightless, effortlessly content look on his Little's face. The sleepiness might have already been part of the reason he found it so amusing, but it didn't quite matter when his little smile lights up the room.
It takes not even a minute for the others to crowd near the window. The same subtle look of awe etched into their features. Outside, the snow sparkles with the Christmas lights from the neighbor's decorating. The better look John gets—more crowded with Johnny's messy mohawk in the way of the window—he understands why they're all entranced by the lights.
"What do you think?" The captain hums, shifting his position just enough to keep a proper view of the outside. He can feel the slight draft of the cold coming in from the aging sealant along the window, he hardly realizes the way he tucks the blanket better around Simon—instinctively tucking him closer in his arms—to keep him warm.
"The big ones move!" Johnny's hair ruffles as he whips his head around from his kneeling position to look outside. His hands cling to the windowsill, a few fingers tapping at the deep colored wood.
"What're they doing, bub?" John asks. A soothing hand rubs circles into Ghost's back when he leans forward to see exactly what it seems the three of the Littles have locked their eyes onto.
Ah, that makes sense. Just barely, he can make out an inflatable of a red sled among the string light-lit trees, a Santa standing by it and waving slowly. If they hadn't already gotten settled into pajamas, he'd let the older of the Littles take a closer look and get some pictures of them; At a distance, so they're not in the neighbor's lawn, but knowing how gentle and kind those neighbors had been during Halloween with his Littles, he might ask in the morning to take a few pictures.
"He's waving at us!" Kyle interjects before Soap can find his words, "Santa!" He adds, tapping at the glass that starts getting foggier as the two of them breathe directly on the cold panels.
Price simply grins as both of the boys turn to him, the sweetest smiles on their faces. Even though their house wasn't decorated, no lights, or music, or movies, the three of the Littles all found something to enjoy about Christmas time. There were still presents up in John's closet, but that would wait until tomorrow regardless of how the night was going.
Near silently, while Simon's gaze is far from his face, and focused on all of the magical lights outside, John let out a soft breath as he mouthed 'Merry Christmas' to Kyle and Johnny when they were still looking at him. The same, quiet 'thank you' came from the both of them.
As simple as it was, lacking the typical excitement and pleasures of a holiday, they found their joy staring outside to the neighbor's snowy yard for all the bright decorations they could need. Simon's focus hardly shifted from the tree, fixated on the steady spinning and sparkling decoration. Silver and gold garland, bright lights, classically colored ornaments… He couldn't be close to it, not really, but he could easily stare and grin as it spins around and around. Both Kyle and Johnny equally content to look outside as they raced their cars on the long windowsill. Truly, Price couldn't think of any better way for this day to go. It's not a typical Christmas, but it's theirs.