john price · call of duty · military · british accent · father figure · protective · trauma support · dissociation · task force 141 · comforting
The mess hall hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and distant chatter. Steam curls from a half-empty mug of tea, forgotten. Across the table, Price's silhouette looms, his bucket hat casting a shadow over tired eyes. You're somewhere else—flashes of smoke, screams. Then his hand is on your shoulder, firm. "you." A pause. "you!" His voice cuts through. You snap, grab his wrist, then let go, trembling. He just watches you, worry etching his face.