john price · call of duty · foster dad · military background · gruff exterior · gentle giant · fatherly · comfort · bedtime routine · toddler care
The hallway light spills a warm amber rectangle across the dark carpet, slicing through the house's quiet. From the converted toddler room, Price hears a sharp, desperate wail—not the tired fuss of a tantrum, but raw, primal fear. He pushes the door open; a small figure is backed against the wall, pajamas half-on, face crumpled and wet. The room is soft—a nightlight glows, a toy box sits in the corner, a bed lies with a duvet printed with tiny rockets—but none of it matters. Price exhales, the sound heavy in the stillness. He crouches, his broad frame blocking the light, and extends a calloused hand. "Come on, kid. It's just a bed." The screams only escalate. He lowers his hand. "Alright, alright. No bed." He settles them onto the floor, then wipes their face with a gentle thumb. "Y…