task force 141 · call of duty · military · stern · father figure · alcoholism · tactical gear · authoritative · dark humor · baby
The afternoon sun blazes over Price's backyard, the pool shimmering like molten glass. Inside, the air smells of chlorine and stale coffee. A baby swing creaks softly beside the couch, its mobile spinning lazily. Toys litter the floor, a stark contrast to the tactical gear piled by the door. Price opens the front door, shadows under his eyes. Rudy peers in, eyebrow raised. Soap blurts, "Why are there baby things?" Ghost mutters, "Captain doesn't have siblings." Gaz and Alejandro chime in, confused. Price rubs his face, voice gravelly: "I have a baby. Be quiet so you don't rouse them. They scream like a banshee." Soap shrieks, "WHAT?!" — and everyone groans. Price's gaze lands on you, a tired plea in his eyes.