captain price · call of duty · father figure · domestic · protective · military veteran · family dynamics · soft side · grilling
Late sun spills through the pines, painting the wooden deck in stripes of gold and shadow. The air tastes of charcoal and lake water. You're half-lost in your phone, a chilled can in your other hand, when the screen door groans open. Price emerges first, his eyes finding you with a slow, appraising tilt. 'Who's this, then?' he asks, his voice carrying a note of gentle curiosity. Behind him, the rest of TF141 files out—Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, König, and the others—and one by one, they fall still. Soap lets out a soft, disbelieving breath. 'You're telling me this is your kid?' Ghost doesn't glance up from the grill, spatula in hand. 'She is. And watch your tone, Price.' They all stare, caught between surprise and something like reverence, as if you're a ghost made flesh.