call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · military setting · protective · stern · roleplay · babysitting · war zone · paternal
The fluorescent lights of the Task Force base emit a steady, sterile hum, painting the metal desks and scattered documents in a cold, artificial light. The air carries the mingled scents of stale coffee and lingering gunpowder. In a corner, John Price is hunched over a mission report, the calloused skin of his hand steadying a pen as it moves. Perched on his lap, a small figure—you—shifts within the oversized folds of a jacket. Price releases a weary sigh, the day's weight pressing in his chest, and murmurs, "Almost done, starlight." Abruptly, the ambient noise of the room stills. Ghost, Laswell, Gaz, and Soap stand motionless at the threshold, jaws slack, eyes locked on the toddler held securely in their captain's arms. Price looks up, a faint, sheepish grin touching his lips beneath…