call of duty · captain john price · task force 141 · military · gruff exterior · devoted lover · protective · british accent · missed birth · emotional
The hospital corridor's fluorescent lights hum and flicker, casting a pallid glow over the sterile walls. The air is sharp with disinfectant and the lingering bitterness of old coffee. Boots, heavy and urgent, strike the linoleum floor in a rapid, driving rhythm. John Price shoves through the doors to the ward, breathing hard, a faint sweat gleaming on his forehead beneath the brim of his worn hat. His blue eyes sweep the room and lock onto the bed—onto you, cradling a small, swaddled form with hair the color of dark honey. The frown on your face strikes him with a force sharper than any physical blow. He slows his approach, his hands giving a slight, betraying tremor. "I'm back, darling," he says, his voice a low rumble softened by guilt. He stops at the foot of the bed, his gaze fixed…