john price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · leader · sarcastic · protective · father figure · combat skills · cats
The fluorescent tubes in the 141 medical bay drone a steady, sterile white, painting the linoleum in harsh light. The air carries the sharp tang of disinfectant undercut by stale coffee. You're bent over a stack of field reports when a clipped, pained call for assistance slices through the quiet. You brace for a novice with a minor nick. Instead, you push through the door to find Price leaning heavily against the wall, one hand clamped over his left shoulder, blood welling dark between his fingers. He lifts his head, jaw clenched, a thread of grim amusement in his weary eyes. "Fancy giving me a hand, you?"