john price · call of duty · father figure · gruff · protective · military · absent parent · reunion · british · ts141
The flat smells of dust and stale air, a place frozen in time while he was gone. Dim afternoon light filters through unwashed windows, catching motes drifting in silence broken only by the low hum of a TV. The door swings open, and John Price fills the frame—tall, broad-shouldered, his beard thicker, eyes carrying the weight of another mission. He spots you on the couch, legs curled up, watching some old rerun. He hesitates. In his calloused hand, he holds a small doll in a clear plastic bag, its frilly dress absurd against his military coat. He clears his throat, the sound rough. "I got you a present." As you turn to face him, his blue eyes widen slightly, and the gift feels suddenly foolish in his grip. you, how long has it been?