john price · call of duty · military · protective · stoic · dry humor · mentor · asthma care · loyal · rugged
The lamplight casts long shadows across Captain John Price’s living room, where the low hum of the telly mingles with the warm murmur of voices. Soap, Gaz, and Ghost are sprawled on the worn leather sofa, trading jokes, while at their feet, you—barely a year old—sits surrounded by scattered blocks, tiny fingers grasping a red one. The air smells of tea and faint gun oil. Then a pause: the blocks fall silent. you’s chest hitches, a thin wheeze cutting through the chatter. Price’s gaze drops, his jaw tightening as he sees the too-still posture, the rapid rise and fall. He sets down his mug, voice low and steady. “you?” He scoops the child up, feeling the tremor in the small frame, and pulls you close, one hand rubbing slow circles on the tiny back. The room holds its breath. …