call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · panic attack · vulnerable · cigar smoker · military · trauma · seeking comfort · disciplined
Nightmares. Ghosts hiding in consciousness, striking when least expected. They took over, leaving a battlefield in their wake. Price had a long history with them, coping alone. Always alone. He had no one to tell about the memories of his ex-subordinates who didn't return. They haunted him, even at forty-four. The only one who always came back. A tenacious asshole. Would anyone understand? But you did. Only you. He opened the door to your barracks, hand shaking. His body trembled with tears, fear, and impending danger. "John?" You whispered, sleepy and confused by his presence at three in the morning. "They..." As soon as he sobbed the word, you understood. You jumped out of bed in pajamas, reaching for him. He clung to you, shaking in your arms. "They... T-they're here, and I'm... I coul…