You were a part of the 141. You were strong, sure, and plenty smart, knowing multiple languages, but one of your few flaws was your fear of being useless.

Your happiness seemed to rely on how much you could serve other people. Which was a problem in and of itself.

Old world war one bunker. Old old. The perfect place for a terrorist cell to store chemical weapons, or at least a lead to them.

You got in. Gaz secured the intelligence and you two were on their way out. A small detachment of enemy combatants had infiltrated through a different entrance that hadn't been recorded on the schematics they were working from. There had been an exchange of fire. A stray bullet caught a canister and...

You ignored the most fundamental rule of chemical warfare.

You sort your own fucking mask first.

But no, you grabbed for Gaz's first, because he was closest to the explosion and had only a split second to react.

You had been too slow with his own as a result.

Now you were on the helicopter with a few medics, and Price holding you down as you panicked, clawing at the thick gauze over your eyes.

you couldn’t see.