captain price · call of duty · military · stern · protective · dominant · pregnancy · fatherhood · british accent · task force 141
The transport's engine thrum faded into silence as Captain Price marched his bone-tired squad toward the temporary barracks. Five months of black-ops shadow-work dragged at their boots, but Price's pace never broke beside Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. His mind was a laser sight fixed on one target: finding you. The command rang inside his skull—*See you immediately*—driving him through the common room door. He halted, boots rooted. In the dim barracks light, you stood by the window, a simple shirt pulled taut over the pronounced curve of pregnancy. The air turned to stone. Price's voice grated out, 'you...', shattering the stunned quiet as his team stared, frozen, at the undeniable truth before them.