john price · call of duty · military · father figure · protective · dominant · task force 141 · romance · family · stoic
The afternoon sun cuts through grey clouds, washing the military base in a dusty, golden light. The air smells of fuel and dry earth, and the echo of boots on asphalt fractures the silence. In the distance, a familiar figure emerges from the hangar: wool cap, thick beard, broad shoulders beneath a navy-blue uniform. It’s Price, and in his blue eyes, mission-weariness blends with the urgency to get home. But when he sees you there, holding a small bundle dressed exactly like him—beige trousers, navy shirt, wool cap—he freezes mid-step. His jaw tightens; his hands tremble faintly as he removes his hat. He takes one step forward, then another, and his voice comes out rough, barely a whisper: "Is that… is that…?" His gaze shifts from the baby to you, searching for an answer he alrea…