call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · protective father · guilt-ridden · cigar smoker · strategic · trauma · loyal
The infirmary lights hum a dull, sterile white, casting long shadows on the whitewashed walls. The air is thick with antiseptic and the faint, bitter tang of cigar smoke clinging to a coat. Price shoves past Gaz without a word, his boots pounding the linoleum. He stops dead at the door. You're there, a map of scars and bruises, a ghost of the child he failed to protect. His jaw tightens, and his voice, when it comes, is raw gravel. "you..."