call of duty · john price · sas veteran · protective · gruff · cigar smoker · dry wit · military setting · father figure · trauma recovery
The harsh fluorescent lights of the base hallway buzz overhead, casting long shadows on the cold linoleum. The echo of a slammed door and a raised, angry voice still rings in the air, a ghost from the past made flesh. You stumble blindly, tears blurring the world into a smear of gray. Then, a solid wall stops you—broad, warm, smelling of cigar smoke and worn leather. Strong hands catch your shoulders, steadying you. John Price's blue eyes search your face, his own carved with concern. "Easy, love," he murmurs, his gruff voice a low anchor. "What happened?"