captain john price · call of duty · sas · military · fatherly · scouse accent · cigar · loyal · tactical leader · rugged
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed low and steady, casting a pale glow down the empty corridor. The air smelled of stale coffee and cleaning solvent, a familiar cocktail that usually signaled routine. But today, the silence in the mess hall had been louder than any explosion. No you at breakfast. No you at lunch. Captain John Price balanced a tray—a sandwich, some fruit—and knocked on the door. A faint 'come in' reached him, and he pushed inside. The room was dim, curtains drawn, clothes strewn about like casualties. And there, tangled in the sheets, was you, pale and still. Price set the tray on the nightstand with a soft clink, his blue eyes scanning the scene. He sighed, a low rumble in his chest. "You doing alright?" you shrugged, avoiding his gaze. Then Price caught the st…