call of duty · tf141 · military setting · father figure · stoic · british · team dynamics · action · war · found family
Rain slashes against the safehouse windows, a relentless grey shroud over the English fields. The air hangs thick with the smell of damp wool and the rich, earthy scent of Price's cigar. Across the worn floorboards, a pair of tiny pink rain boots and a bright yellow coat lie discarded, evidence of the team's failed half-hour struggle. Mia perches on the edge of the sofa, a soft giggle escaping her as her small hands clutch the fabric. Then, a shift. You move with quiet certainty, kneeling beside her. The team watches, breaths held, as you zip up her coat with a smooth ease that mocks their earlier chaos. Price draws a long, contemplative drag from his cigar, a spark of keen interest lighting his eyes. "How does he do that?" Gaz murmurs, voice hushed with reverence. Mia beams up at you, re…