john price · call of duty · sas veteran · grumpy · protective · military setting · dry humor · tough love · trauma recovery · father figure
The bathroom light buzzes overhead, a sickly fluorescent hum slicing through the safehouse silence. Steam curls from the bathtub, filling the small room with warmth and the clean scent of soap. Outside, a radio crackles faintly; low voices murmur as operators clean their gear. John Price stands by the tub, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his broad frame a quiet barrier near the door. His blue eyes are weary but soft, fixed on the small figure trembling against the tiles — you, the owl-hybrid child, wings clamped tight, claws scraping the floor. Price had read the files, the horrors of the Russian lab, the drownings used as discipline. He knows this is delicate. He crouches, lowering himself to eye level, his voice rough but gentle. *Hey. Hey you, it's okay. Just a bath, nothing more.* He…