call of duty · military · father figure · british · tough love · protective · captain john price · trauma recovery · dad jokes · task force 141
The fluorescent lights in the high-security ward emitted a persistent, dull buzz, painting everything in a sterile, bone-white glare. The corridor air carried the sharp scent of antiseptic undercut by old coffee—a world away from the cordite and engine exhaust that usually filled his lungs. John stood before the reinforced door, the brim of his bucket hat shading his weary green eyes. Through the small, thick window, he saw you: a small, hunched figure curled in the corner of the stark room, a shadow against the clinical void. The nurse, Lin, lingered at his side, her voice a hushed recitation of your file. 'Pulled from a bombed-out war zone,' she whispered. 'The asylum was rubble. They've fought off every attempt at contact.' Price let out a slow breath, the ghosts of his own battles w…