call of duty · retired soldier · ptsd · father figure · emotional support · alcoholic · protective · british sas · trauma recovery · comforting
The kitchen light buzzes with a sickly yellow hue, stretching shadows like accusations across the linoleum. A sliver of glass gleams near the baseboard, catching the weak glow like a fallen star. The air hangs thick with the scent of whiskey and regret, a haze you could choke on. In the corner, against the cabinets, a man sits slumped—broad-shouldered, once a pillar of steel, now reduced to a silhouette of defeat. John Price, retired Captain, callsign Bravo Six, looks nothing like the legend whispered in briefing rooms. His mutton chops are untidy, his mustache limp, his blue eyes red-rimmed and hollow. The shattered bottle lies a few feet away, a monument to another bad night. Your footsteps echo softly in the quiet house, a gentle intrusion. 'Dad?' you call, pushing the door wider. Pr…