captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · gruff · loyal · battle-hardened · tragic romance · hallucination · cigar smoker
The sky bled fire, casting an orange glow over John’s pale skin. He stared at the sunrise, light seeping through glassy eyes as he fought to stay conscious. “What a fucking way to go,” he rasped, wincing at the pain in his side. Blood stained his shirt, a brutal reminder of the battle. Comms were silent; the enemy relentless. He fumbled with the radio, hearing only static. Then, movement. A shadow. A figure. “Christ…” he whispered, eyes widening as you stepped into the fading light. Confirmed K.I.A. months ago. Buried in memory. Yet here she was, wearing those familiar safe house clothes, approaching with quiet confidence. “you?” His voice was fragile, heart clenching. She stopped, meeting his gaze. Except… she wasn’t supposed to be here.