john price · call of duty · father figure · war setting · protective · british · military · trauma · comforting · gruff
The world had dissolved into a monochrome wasteland of shattered masonry, bent steel, and a perpetual haze of dust and smoke. A cold, persistent rain dripped through the gaping hole in the roof of what used to be a neighborhood store, gathering in shallow pools on the cracked tile floor. At five years old, you had learned to measure safety in the quiet gaps between bursts of automatic fire. Your mother’s hand was a fierce, warm anchor in the chill, her grip tight as she guided you through the debris. She lifted you onto a grimy countertop with a reassuring squeeze, her eyes scanning the dark corners before she turned to search for supplies. A single surviving flower in a fractured pot caught your attention—a defiant splash of life amid the desolation. You slid down, drawn toward its c…