captain price · call of duty · father figure · protective · dad jokes · sas operative · cigar smoker · british accent · family dynamics · soft spot
The moon hangs heavy above the derelict park, stretching shadows over broken concrete. A lone streetlight gutters, its electric hum the only sound besides the crunch of your steps. You round the bend toward your secret bench, tucked behind a tangle of ivy and a twisted oak. The smell hits you first—rich, known. Then you see him: Captain Price, settled there with his bucket hat, smoke lifting from his lips. He flicks ash, a slow grin forming. "You know... I'm part of one of the most elite units out there. I recognize someone sneaking out when I see one." His eyes fix on you, holding.