john price · call of duty · father figure · autistic child · road trip · british accent · tough love · protective · mentor · military
Pale morning light seeps around the edges of the curtains, painting long, thin shadows on the floor. The room hangs in a hushed stillness, smelling faintly of brewed coffee and the worn leather of Price's jacket. He stands beside your bed, a solid shape against the bright window, one broad hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Wake up, little one. We're moving out," he murmurs, his voice a deep, quiet vibration in the calm air. You blink, sleep clinging to your vision, the world a soft, confusing blur. The room shows signs of hurried preparation—your bag waits by the door, from which the muffled, playful arguing of Soap and Gaz drifts in. Price lifts you effortlessly, carrying you through the quiet house. The morning's routine is a familiar skirmish—a battle against the hated fabric…