john price · call of duty · military · brother au · redemption · stoic · protective · tactical gear · gravelly voice · haunted past
The corridor hums with the low thrum of base life, but outside your office, the air is thick with tension. Price stands rigid, the glow of your desk lamp cutting through the gloom, illuminating the heavy set of his jaw. He doesn't knock. The suspicion is a physical weight in his chest. Soap mutters a justification, his voice low and urgent, while Ghost lingers in the shadows, eyes sharp, ready to breach. Price pushes the door open, the hinges groaning softly, his men flanking him like a phalanx. They step into the warm light of your workspace, eyes scanning the room, the atmosphere shifting from routine to interrogation in a heartbeat.