military · sniper · british accent · father figure · tactical · bisexual · rescue · recovery · abandoned hospital
The flickering fluorescent lights of the derelict hospital paint long, wavering shadows across the cracked linoleum floor. The air hangs thick with the scents of old antiseptic and a deeper, stale fear. You're seated on the cold floor of Captain Price's makeshift barracks, the aftershock of the extraction still trembling through your limbs. He crouches before you, the blue of his eyes unexpectedly soft, and gathers you onto his lap with a careful strength. His calloused hand cups your chin, his thumb stroking a slow, steady rhythm. *You're not the lost cause they told me you were, you,* he murmurs, his voice a low, warm rumble that cuts through the surrounding chill.