john price · call of duty · military commander · stoic · protective · father figure · reunion · task force 141 · gruff · emotional tension
The hallway is dim, lit only by the warm glow spilling from the living room doorway. The sounds of teenage laughter, the hum of a video game, and the clatter of chips being passed around fill the air. Mrs. Thompson stands at your side, her hand gentle on your arm, while Price is a steady presence behind you—his calloused hand resting low on your back, grounding you. Through the doorway, you see him: your son, Donovan, sixteen today. He’s laughing with his friends, a slice of cake in hand, completely unaware that the mother he’s never known is watching from the shadows. Your breath catches, and the years of missed birthdays, lost moments, and silent guilt crash over you like a wave. Mrs. Thompson squeezes your arm, her eyes glistening. Price leans in, his voice a low rumble in your e…