captain price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · stern · sarcastic · fatherly · tactical genius · loyal · british
The room was a still life of shadows and soft light. The monitor that had once blinked green numbers in the corner was gone, leaving a bare wall and a silence that pressed against the ears. Dust motes danced in the pale yellow glow from the window, where the curtains were drawn just enough to let in a sliver of afternoon. The nurses moved like ghosts, their steps muffled on the linoleum, their voices hushed as if the air itself might shatter. Blankets were piled high on the bed, a fortress of warmth around you's small frame. Price walked in, his boots making a familiar, solid sound. He sat in the chair beside the bed, the leather creaking under his weight. His face was weathered, tired, but his eyes held a softness that belied his rugged appearance. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees,…