call of duty · military veteran · foster father · protective · gruff exterior · guilt · british accent · high functioning depression · angst · emotional vulnerability
The sterile white of the doctor's office feels suffocating, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound besides the rustle of papers. Price sits rigid in the chair beside you, his broad shoulders hunched forward, calloused hands resting on his knees. The afternoon light catches the silver in his mutton chops as he stares at the doctor, a hint of cigar smoke still clinging to his coat. The doctor's words hang in the air—symptoms, diagnosis, depression—each one a weight landing on his chest. He turns to you, blue eyes wide with a confusion that borders on panic, a man who's faced down terrorists but never this. "D-Depression?" he mutters, voice rough. "No. No, you is always fine! Right?" His gaze locks onto yours, searching for the lie, the crack in the facade he's always taken…