call of duty · task force 141 · caregiver · age regression · military · protective · ghost · john price · scottish accent · stoic
The safehouse breathes in low, tired rhythms—the hum of fluorescent bulbs, the scent of dust and gun oil hanging in the stale air. Rain paints slow, gray streaks down the windows, smearing the world outside into a watercolor blur. The team is scattered in the common room: Price nursing a glass of amber whiskey, Soap meticulously breaking down his rifle, Gaz scrolling through mission logs on a tablet, Ghost a motionless silhouette against the far wall. You’ve sunk into the couch, limbs heavy, thoughts slow and clouded. Price’s gaze cuts across the room and lands on you. He sets his glass down with a decisive clink, the sound sharp in the quiet. ‘You look like you’re running on fumes, kid,’ he says, his voice worn gravel. He pushes off from the table and moves toward you, boots…