What I've Gained
Captain John Price x Mafia Queen F!Reader Summary: After you were kicked off TF141, you started building a new life for yourself. Seven years later, an old 'friend' shows up on your doorstep, asking for help. What he doesn't know is what you've gained in the seven years apart. Word Count: 2337
A/N: I know I disappeared for the rest of March and the first week of April. I know I didn't finish March of Pain. This one I did for day 16 prompt: secret. And I fell down the Call of Duty rabbit hole again. I will still do the requested characters for prompts but the rest of March of Pain, even though it's over, will be more than just Markiplier Alter characters now.
Seven years ago, you had been a part of Task Force 141, under the command of John Price and working alongside Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. Seven years ago, Captain Price had discharged you from the task force because your methods of interrogation were beyond what was considered humane, legal, or justified. Seven years ago, you started a new life as a mafia leader. And now, you are thriving.
TF 141 stood outside a two-story house that could be compared to a miniature mansion. Too much space for one person, plenty of space for a group of people. And it was. Price’s sharp blue gaze stared at the front doors, the weight of what he was doing settling on his chest as he approached the door and knocked firmly three times. A moment passed and the door opened, revealing a man about 6-feet tall, dressed in a sharp suit with an ear piece and sunglasses, the stereotypical bodyguard look. “State your names and your business here.” The guard said in a low, wary tone, his hands put together in front of him and the gun on his side on display. “John Price. And I’m here to ask your leader for her assistance.” Price answered reluctantly. The guard looked over each man in turn before stepping aside and allowing the team into the foyer. A faint cinnamon scent lingered in the air from a wax melter in a different room and the decor was simple but lavish anyway. The guard spoke into his ear piece and another moment passed before the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors echoed through the foyer. Price’s gaze came up and stopped when they landed on you, dressed in a simple but formal business attire, at the top of the stairs.
“What a surprise. John Price on my doorstep asking for my help.” Your tone was bitter, posture straight as you descended the staircase until you reached the bottom. Price pressed his lips into a firm line under his moustache, clenching his jaw at your tone.
“We need to talk.” He said firmly. His tone made you scoff as you approached, crossing your arms over your chest. You feigned a hurt expression and tilted your head to the side.
“Now, John. Give me one reason why I should help you in any way after you kicked me off the team.” You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head slightly to stare into his gaze with a hardened gaze of your own. “Last I remember, you were telling me that my interrogation methods were unethical and inhumane despite them getting the job done. And you wouldn’t let me do the same to Vladimir Makarov.” You added, narrowing your eyes at him before your gaze shifted to Gaz and Soap for a split second when their expressions shifted subtly. Your gaze came back to Price and realization dawned on you while amusement spread across your face. “Makarov got out.”
“We need your help.” Price interjected quickly, confirming your previous statement.
“Let me remind you that you wouldn’t be in this situation had you let me kill him in the first place.” You sneered, getting up in his face. His expression remained stoic and unreadable. However, you picked up on the tick in his jaw when you reminded him of the first time you had captured Makarov. Price swallowed his pride and took a breath, still smelling of cigars, dust and gunpowder.
“I know.” Price’s voice dropped. “Kicking you off the task force was a mistake.” Price added, the air thick and suffocating with tension and lingering hatred from you for his decision back then. You didn’t back down though, despite his admission to his wrongdoing. You could feel Gaz’s and Soap’s gazes flicking between you and Price, their expressions of unease coming with the tension that radiated through the space. After a long moment of staring each other down, you let your arms drop to your sides and your expression relaxed. Without looking away from Price, you addressed the guard standing nearby.
“Gather everyone in the living room.” You told him. The guard nodded and disappeared down a hall to do what he was ordered. “I will help you capture Makarov.” You started, a sense of relief loosening the air. “However,” Price knew that was coming. “You will hand Makarov over to me after you’ve interrogated him, and I will have my fun with him.” You narrowed your eyes again, daring Price or any of them to challenge your condition.
Price narrowed his eyes at you when you named your condition, knowing that it was coming and not liking it either way. His gaze flicked over to the guard when he disappeared to carry out his task. You focused your gaze on him when he stepped closer, challenging your gaze. “You know damn well that isn’t how we do things.” His voice was low and firm, reminding you that they had a code of conduct to follow. But you didn’t have that anymore, you lived by your own rules now.
Soap shifted his weight on his feet from behind Price and Gaz remained silent, unrecognizing the woman standing in front of them. You listened to his firm words before a malicious grin spread across your lips. “Then I won’t help you capture Makarov.” You told him bluntly, your gaze hardening as you stepped back and crossed your arms again. “I am in no way obligated to help you, John. The fact that you had the guts to appear on my doorstap and ask for it makes me really brave or incredibly stupid. But you don’t make the conditions here. If you want my help and the manpower I can provide, then you will agree to my condition of handing over Makarov once you’ve captured him so I can feed him a taste of his own medicine.” You explained, turning away from the team, your voice carrying through the foyer while you gestured for another guard to escort the men out.
Price hated that you were so set on the condition you set for helping them, but he couldn’t afford to watch you walk away with anything coming out of this.
“You’re asking us to hand over Makarov so you can indulge in sadistic torture.” Ghost spoke up, the first time since they arrived. “What exactly do you plan to do with him once you’ve got him?” Ghost asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest, eyes dark under the skull mask.
“Since you’re so curious about my methods.” You turned back around, darkness in your eyes as you stared the team down, that same malicious grin twitching at your lips. “I am going to make him bleed. I'm going to make him cry. And scream. And beg. And plead for mercy. But I'm not going to give him mercy. Just like he did to me. And I am going to continue torturing him until he blacks out. Then I will wait for him to wake up and do it all over again. And I will continue doing that because no one will be coming to save him. And he won't be walking out of here."
Each one of the soldiers paled at the description you’d given for your plan with Makarov, your eyes catching on every little reaction they had from Price’s clenched fists to Ghosts’ subtle glint of anger in his eyes. “We’re here to take down a nuclear terrorist. Not become monsters ourselves.” Price butted in, narrowing his piercing blue eyes at you.
“We ‘ave rules, lass. A code of conduct. Torture innit a part of it.” Soap added, looking at you warily. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head in mock disappointment.
“That’s not how we operate, love.” Gaz shook his head.
“No, that’s not how you operate. I don’t have rules to follow. I have free reign in these walls. This isn’t about revenge, it’s about Vladimir Makarov getting the karma that’s been waiting for him for a long time.” you sneered, pointing a finger at each man in turn before ending on Price, your eyes narrowing further at him. That fire in your eyes quickly disappeared, like a flip being switched, when the sound of a child’s voice echoed through the halls upstairs, giggling and squealing. You snapped around, eyes peering up at the staircase as a little girl with hair matching your own and sparkling blue eyes came skipping down the stairs, two at a time.
“Maman!” She squealed, hopping down the last two steps before darting towards you where you scooped her up into your arms and settled her on your hip.
“Mon petit amour, maman travaille en ce moment.” You whispered to the little girl in your arms, a genuine, loving smile replacing the malice that was there moments earlier while nuzzling your nose against hers and making her giggle. You planted a soft kiss to her forehead before looking back at the men standing in her foyer.
“I have wanted nothing more than to see Makarov suffer the way he made me suffer. And I will do anything to protect my family, to keep what I have gained.” You told them, spotting the shocked expressions on their faces and the minute shock in Ghosts’ eyes. Price’s expression softened when he saw the little girl, watching the moment unfold in front of him. He could tell this was your daughter, by the way you loved on and was affectionate towards her, and the similarities in her looks to yours. She didn’t look more than seven years old. Ghost, the ever observant soldier, looked between the little girl and his captain, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“You have a daughter.” Price said, voice softer now than it was before.
“I do. She came as a surprise to me but I wouldn’t change anything.” You looked at your daughter and smiled a little more, watching her rest her head against your shoulder while she stared at the four men standing in front of you.
“What about her father?” Gaz asked, raising a curious brow.
“He’s not in the picture.” your tone became bitter again. “It was a one night stand that happened because of drunken choices. But I don’t regret anything regarding my daughter.” you explained, eyes flicking towards Price for a split second before you took a breath. “I’ve given you my conditions. In exchange for the manpower I’m willing to provide, I want Makarov handed over to me. If you can’t do that, then I won’t help you clean up the mess you’re in.” You laid out, shaking your head.
The silence stretched, the only sound being the slight movement from your daughter whenever she moved in your arms. You hoisted her further up on your hip before brushing her hair out of her face before your attention came to Price when he spoke up.
“Can we talk? In private.” Price dropped his voice, looking between you and your daughter. You huffed before looking back at a guard.
“Take them to the living room.” you instructed before looking at Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. “Make yourselves at home.” You told them before gesturing for Price to follow you. The silence between the two of you was tense, charged, and full of unspoken comments and unasked questions. You handed your daughter off to the nanny you hired before stepping through a doorway into your personal office. Once Price was inside, you shut the door behind him and sauntered over to your desk.
“When were you going to tell me? Were you going to tell me at all?” Price’s questions came fast, filling the silent air while you rounded your desk and folded your arms. Your silence irked him more than he cared to admit. “Were you goin’ to tell me that you were pregnant?!” Price kept his voice calm but his question came out more as a demand.
“Would you have stuck around if I did?” You peered at him over your shoulder. He stiffened up at your question, a frown tugging at his lips.
“O’course I would’ve.” His voice was closer now, right behind you. You tensed when you felt his hands on your biceps, holding your breath until you saw him step around until he was standing in front of you. “I woulda wanted nothin’ more.” He muttered, a solemn look in his once cold gaze. You stared off at the floor until you felt his finger nudge your chin up until you met his gaze. You swallowed the growing nerves in your throat and let your arms drop to your sides.
“She’s always asking about you.” You felt a tinge of shame hit your heart for keeping this from him but at the time, he’d given you no choice. The silence returned, not as tense as before, but still thick.
“I will give you Makarov.” Price’s voice hit your ears and your gaze jumped back to his in surprise. “But, I have conditions of my own.” you sighed, knowing he would.
“What are they?” you ask, feeling his hands rub up and down along your arms.
“I will give you Makarov if you keep her out of this mafia business of yours and…” Price paused, bringing his hands down to grasp yours. “I would like us to start over. I wanna get to know my daughter.” He finished explaining. You felt your throat tighten as you met his gaze, searching for anything that would tell you he was lying but came up empty. You thought over his request and felt your heart squeeze in your chest before nodding.
“Okay. We can do that.” you agreed, feeling your lips twitch up into a slight smile. Price smiled in return before tucking you against his chest, arms strong and protective around you while your arms wrapped around his chest and gently gripped at the back of his shirt. “I’ve missed you so much, John.” you whispered against his chest.
“I’ve missed you too.”
