Happy Father's Day. I Broke My Own Heart Writing This. This Is Purely Self-indulgent And Only Those Who

Happy Father's Day. I broke my own heart writing this. This is purely self-indulgent and only those who have lost a father or father figure I think will truly understand the emotion in this. This is a description of a platonic relationship. Please use discretion when reading as it has brief mentions of grandfathers, stepfathers, and biological fathers passing away by heart attacks and suicide. No graphic descriptions but mentions of blood. I listened to this the entire time I wrote. Enjoy <3

That's My Girl

1.2k She had lost every father figure in her life, so what was she supposed to do when her Captain rumbled praises to her which simultaneously broke and healed her wounded heart. And what is she supposed to do when he takes a bullet in his shoulder?

She had struggled with the lack of a father figure in her life since she was a girl. Her grandfather stepped up when she was little, he had already been a constant in her life, but once he had cemented himself in it he died soon after. Her stepfather came into her life in a whirlwind of emotion and she wasn’t sure how to feel about a person her mom preferred over her when it suddenly didn't matter anyway as he died of a heart attack when she was ten. Her uncle didn’t know she existed and from what she had heard he preferred it that way. And the dominos all fell because her father committed suicide when she was still a babe. 

It led her to here. Emotion bubbled from her chest every time her commanding officer praised her. His gruff rumbling voice hit just where she needed it most. The smoothness of his voice scraped against a jagged piece in her heart, constantly reminding her of all that she had unfairly lost. He was a tall, rugged man, all she had imagined a father should be. His presence was a welcoming one of safety and security. Knowing that no one could get through to her if he was standing in the way made her heart soar. 

It was all massively inappropriate, and she knew it, but the way his presence soothed her was addicting. She hadn’t felt such peace since she was a child. Alone in bed, she wished for his strong arms to wrap around her, embracing her in the safety of a fatherly reassurance that everything would be okay.

She had always kept this boundary because she knew what it meant if she crossed that line. They were not family, and if they were they could never be on the same task force. Emotions blind logic, and if she thought about the way this man, her Captain, presence made her feel she knew that she would do anything to keep him alive. She couldn’t lose another father figure, especially one that she had chosen for herself. 

It wasn’t until the mission that she realized how horrible her infatuation was. Captain Price was yelling orders when he took the bullet to the shoulder. It felt like everything began moving in slow motion after that. All she saw was her grandfather in the coffin, her stepfather on the bathroom floor, and some inkling in her heart from when she was a baby when that first piece of her heart shattered off at her fathers' last breath.

Before she could even blink she was on her knees before him, hands pressed into the wound that was oozing blood. Glancing him over she assessed what she could do. He was shot inches away from his vest, bullet lodged in his muscle.

“I’m gonna have to dig it out.” Her voice grated as she pulled her hands away from the wound. 

Captain Price grunted underneath her. She looked at him for the first time since she went to him, his eyes were scrunched and forehead creased, but he was awake and aware. He reached out, a gloved hand gripping her bicep. 

“Fuckin hell.” He gasped, gripping her arm as she cut away the clothing around the wound. There was no time to be kind, not when she still heard the sound of bullets whizzing above them. The rest of the task force had them covered, but this was something that couldn’t be put on hold until they were out of the line of fire. 

Embracing the calming sensation of adrenaline she focused on the task at hand, grabbing packing gauze and alcohol from her kit. The sound of his grunts of pain was background noise as she packed the wound, the bullet now lying on the ground beside them.

It wasn’t until he gripped her arm to the point of bruising that she realized he had been calling her name. Not her rank, not her last name, but her name. He was leaning toward her on his good shoulder, trying to make eye contact.

“You good?”

“Hey, hey look at me.”

“Sergeant.”

That did it, she looked up at him eyes locking into his.

“You broken?” He was worried, she could read it all over his face. Why would he be worried? He was the one who was shot, the other men were still taking fire, and it was starting to rain.

Rain, they were inside a building. She looked down at her pants, watching the droplets fall. She was crying. Tears were pouring down her face, her bloody hands trembling on her lap with the scraps of his shirt and bloody gauze.

She shook her head, reaching to clear the overflowing tears from her eyes until she realized her hands were still covered in blood.

A large hand reached out to brush her cheek, wiping some of her tears away. Captain Price stared up at her, surprise and compassion swirling in his eyes.

“You called me, Dad”, he said under his breath, cupping her cheek against his palm.

Her eyes slid shut against the touch. Too worn out to comprehend what just happened. Letting out a shuddering breath she whispered, “I’m sorry, Captain.”

He humphed, a short sound in the back of his throat. 

“Look at me.”

She obeyed the order, taking another deep breath and bracing for a lecture, but his face was soft.

“I don’t have kids. You muppets are enough.” He confessed softly, bullets still whizzing above their heads. “I don’t think I will ever have kids, but to know that you respect and care about me enough to mistake me for your father when I’m hurt..” He trailed off.

“I’d like to think I’m all of yours father, in my own way. Don’t be embarrassed, everyone has their own stories from before coming into the army. Now don’t tell Ghost this but even he has slipped up once or twice with calling me dad.”

A smile twitched at her cheeks, the adrenaline finally melting away allowing her to feel the gravity of what just happened. Her heart felt like it was in her throat as she chuckled softly at his confession. 

Captain Price smiled at that, patting her cheek gently, “That’s my girl. Now since you got me all patched up Sergeant let's see if we can get evac in here.” 

The helicopter ride back to base gave her time to process and realize how much she had overthought her reaction in the first place. Captain Price's words healed her in some way she didn't even realize. Of course, she wasn’t the only one dealing with daddy issues. People escape into the military for all sorts of things. And she did her job, she was focused on saving his life and didn’t mean to call him dad. Even though she did he didn’t look at her with disgust, but with fatherlike pride, like she had just validated something he had been wrestling with for a while. 

After that, the only thing that changed was Captain Price's willingness to interact with her in more ways. A clap on the shoulder, a hug pulling into his side, letting her rest her head against his shoulder on long flights back from missions. It was something they both needed, and they found it in each other, an adopted father and daughter.