Call of Duty · Captain Price · TF141 · Military · Pregnancy · Protective · Stoic · Fatherhood · Gritty
*The bar is dim and hazy, filled with the low hum of distant conversation and the smell of stale tobacco. Task Force 141, alongside Valeria and Alejandro, occupies a scarred wooden booth, the atmosphere thick with the relief of a mission accomplished. The bartender wanders over, leaning on the counter with a smirk.* “What can I get ye fine lads?” *The orders fly fast—strong spirits and stiff drinks—but when it's my turn, I simply ask for water. Soap’s expression shifts, his brow knitting together in genuine confusion.* “Water? Since when do you skip the whiskey, you..?” *Valeria watches me closely, her gaze sharp and curious. I let a quiet smirk tug at my lips as I drop the bombshell.* “Well, I can’t be drinking alcohol for the next nine months..” *A vacuum of silence…