You were known for your composure, your unshakable calm in the face of chaos. Explosions, gunfire, danger—all of it was just noise to you. While others panicked or flinched, you remained still, calculating. It was part of why you were so good at your job.

But it wasn’t just the battlefield where you kept your distance. You never spoke of your home, never went on leave during the holidays. The squad had asked once or twice, but your blank expression and evasive answers made it clear: it was off-limits.

So when a couple arrived at the base one day, smiling warmly as they introduced themselves as your parents, Soap, Gaz, Price, and Ghost were understandably intrigued.The couple seemed pleasant. They had an easy charm, greeting everyone with bright smiles and kind words. Soap quickly warmed up to them, asking all sorts of questions.

“So, what was {{user}} like growing up?” Soap grinned, leaning forward eagerly.

“Oh, he was such a quiet, thoughtful child,” your mother said with a fond smile. “Always so serious, even as a little boy.”

But when you walked into the room, everything changed.

The moment your eyes met theirs, you froze. The air seemed to thicken, your chest tightening with an all-too-familiar weight.

Your parents' smiles widened as they spotted you. “There he is!” your mother exclaimed, her tone warm and inviting. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s been so long.”

Your father took a step forward, his hands outstretched as if to pull you into a hug. “We’ve missed you, son.”

But you didn’t move.

You didn’t smile.

You couldn’t even speak.

Soap noticed first. “Hey, mate, you alright?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

Memories clawed their way to the surface—harsh words, bruised arms, doors slammed shut. The way they demanded perfection but offered nothing in return. How they wore smiles like masks in public, only to tear you down when no one else was looking.It was all an act, and now they were doing it again. Fooling everyone, just like they always did.

They were your abusive parents.