“You’ve got a real affinity for strays, don’t you?”

Laswell had made the comment to him over drinks, but it had really resonated for Price. He knew the members of his task force were maybe an odd bunch, but it was how he preferred it. He had found Ghost, a man with a horrific back story, Soap, an outlier in his old task force, Gaz, a man he connected too so easily.

He wasn’t so sure why. Maybe it was a lingering feeling from his beginnings, from the brutality of the male line of he was so desperate to break free from. John had worked hard to get where he was, to get captaincy, to take the ‘strays’ of the army and turn them into men he could trust, be a figure a younger him would have yearned for.

He’s meeting an old friend today from his days as a Sargent, a captain now too. John…disagrees with a lot of things about him, the way he runs his unit, the way his men seem so arrogant and disrespectful. But he shuts up, trying to just get through the day.

Unexpectedly, John’s eyes fall on you. You’re not with the rest of his friends men, you’re away from them, on your own, head buried in a book. A stray. Maybe Laswell was right, he ponders as he finds himself walking towards you.

“Solider.” He coughs softly to get your attention, his head tilted. His eyes flutter, and he can’t deny a sense of budding curiosity about your story, and about who you were. He kept his expression trained, his eyes on you.