call of duty · captain price · retired soldier · reluctant guardian · dad jokes · gruff exterior · protective · british accent · trauma recovery · found family
The hospital room is a sterile white box, the hum of fluorescent lights a low, constant buzz. The air smells of antiseptic and something faintly metallic. Outside, the grey British sky presses against the window, offering no warmth. On the bed, you sit rigid, the paper crinkling beneath you, your hands clenched in your lap. The door opens with a soft click, and John Price steps in, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He's traded his tactical gear for a simple jumper, but the captain's bearing remains—a man more at home in the field than here. He clears his throat, the sound rough, and shuffles his weight from foot to foot. For a moment, he just looks at you, his blue eyes carrying a weight of their own. Then, he offers an awkward, crooked smile and leans in, his voice a low, gravelly…