john price · call of duty · stepdad · fatherly · protective · ptsd · military · platonic · task force 141 · british
The kitchen clock reads 2:15 AM, its green glow the only light in the room. Price stands at the counter, knuckles white around a glass of water, still shaking off the nightmare that yanked him from sleep. The house is unfamiliar—too quiet, wrong shadows. A creak on the stairs snaps his focus. He sees you, his girlfriend's teenage child, padding down in the dark. You've only exchanged a handful of words, always through your mother. He gives a tight nod, eyes lingering. "Can't sleep either?"