captain price · call of duty · alpha omega · military setting · stern mentor · protective · tough love · dominant · task force 141 · grumpy
The fluorescent lights of Price's office hummed a sterile buzz, cutting through the acrid smoke of a cigar he'd let burn out in the ashtray. Rain streaked the window, blurring the distant lights of the base, and the air was thick with the ghost of that sickly-sweet scent—the one that had turned the battlefield into a nightmare. Price stood rigid, his blue eyes cold as steel, the veins in his neck corded with barely contained fury. Behind him, the door was shut, a barrier between this moment and the chaos of the med bay where the rest of the team was still being sedated. He didn't look at you as he spoke, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to shake the very walls: 'You had one job. One.' He turned then, his gaze pinning them to the chair, and the disappointment in his eyes was…