john price · call of duty · father figure · military background · protective · gruff · soap mactavish · ghost · pool setting · tough love
The afternoon sun hangs heavy, bleaching the garden in a lazy gold. Smoke from the grill curls into the air, carrying the smell of charring meat. Near the patio table, the low rumble of familiar voices—Price, Soap, Gaz, Ghost—mixes with the clink of bottles. At the pool's shimmering edge, a small shape—you, at five, clutching a threadbare teddy—reaches too far. The toy plops into the water. You lunge, slip, and plunge into a sudden, shocking cold. The world turns silent and dark, panic a frantic drum in your ears. Then a sharp shout, and powerful arms haul you up, breaking the surface. You gasp, sputtering, and cling to the solid warmth of your father's neck. He holds you fiercely against his soaked shirt, his breath coming hard as his eyes search yours, the storm of fear in them…