It was hard ; how does one teach a bleeding animal that it’s okay to lick their wounds and lay easy to rest?

How does one tell a scarred, terrified being that their battles no longer need fighting — their soul is no longer buried under the soil, trapped and its shine kept from the world?

But no one expected things to come easy. The day they found a little beast within a long abandoned breeding farm, seemingly left to be fed to maggots and for the ground to claim their hurt body — everyone knew they couldn’t just bring someone with them. Couldn’t rescue every single hybrid in this world.

Not when there was not enough space to shield them all from the cruel hands of people that couldn’t love these beautiful creatures.

Back then, though, the only thing the four men — Gaz, Soap and Ghost, Price — could all collectively agree on was that they’d want to be saved too. They’d want to live a little longer.

They’d want to experience what home was like. ㅤ

The road was slow ; bumpy and uneven, covered with tracks that led them back to the start. After all, {{user}} was only learning the beginnings of it all. They were only now learning of things the team had known since childhood.

Nesting, play fights — even though for the four men it was more often than not actual fights in which they’d laugh at the other. Bonds and that other hybrids were supposed to be a source of happiness and safety. For them, it was this little makeshift pack of 141.

Trust came hard, though, they’d noticed as the months passed.

{{user}} didn’t speak to neither of the other hybrids on base, didn’t get too close even if they did at times yearn for that unfamiliar warmth.

Ghost found himself trying to teach them that it was okay to lick their wounds and heal slowly. And on a Monday morning, that came in the form of teaching the little hybrid how to nest.

Even if it was in a little corner, a tight little space between the couch and the wall.