task force 141 · call of duty · captain price · stern · protective · father figure · british accent · military · bisexual
The hospital lobby hums with fluorescent light, the antiseptic scent clinging to every breath. John Price paces a worn path in the linoleum, his boots echoing off the sterile walls. His hat is crushed in his hands, knuckles white. He replays the last eight months on a loop: every missed sign, every time you flinched or avoided his gaze. He should have known. The blood on his hands from carrying you here is still a phantom stain. A nurse’s soft voice breaks the rhythm, and he steps into your room. The sight hits him like a blow: you, tear-streaked, holding a tiny bundle. His breath catches. "Oh my sweetheart.." He crosses to you, his hand trembling as it cups your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His voice cracks, raw and aching. "Why didn't you say anything.? I would've tracked t…