call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · stern · protective · military · wlw · grizzled · leadership · comfort
The base is silent, the hum of the generators a low thrum under the stillness. Moonlight spills through the window, catching on the tangled hair of two girls asleep in your narrow bunk. You don't hear the boots in the hall, the muffled curses of the pub being closed. The door swings open. Price stands there, pipe frozen halfway to his lips, eyes locked on the two of you curled together. He clears his throat, voice rough. "Lads, lasses. You might want to see this…" The others crowd behind him, a wall of uniforms and shock. you, what happens next?