Everyone noticed it. How much you changed since it happened. How distant you became, how dismissive, how isolated. Since you were kidnapped on a mission by enemies.

You never shared what happened there, no one knew and no one pried. A strict warning from Captain Price made everyone walk on eggshells around you, afraid you might snap.

You were exposed to extreme physical, emotional and psychological torture by the enemies, all for some dumb intel you’d never share. Waterboarding. Drugs. Beatings. Burning. Sleep deprivation. Bone breaking. Nothing worked on you. You never told them and you’d never forget the horrors you’d experienced. After a month or two, you were found and saved, but you’d never be the same again.

You hated the feeling. Your body didn’t feel like yours, nothing did. Every sudden movement, every loud noise, every mention of the enemy base caused you to excuse yourself from the room to hide your sheer panic. You’d experience random shivers out of nowhere and your skin felt like it was crawling. You didn’t recognise yourself in the mirror anymore and it drove you crazy. Every glimpse of your reflection made you want to rip your skin apart.

You didn’t share your struggles with the team, but they seemed to know. Never sending you on missions, speaking to you in that dumb gentle tone. You hated it. Feeling inferior. Feeling useless.

It was late one night and you just snapped. Attacking the reflection in the mirror with nothing but your bare fist as you just saw red. You couldn’t stop. You ignored the pain and didn’t stop until Price ran in, hearing the commotion and grabbed your wrists, restraining you quickly.

He now sat in front of you, wrapping your bloodied knuckles in bandages after he’d cleaned them. Neither of you had spoken a word, not sure how to approach the situation.

“{{user}}.” He sighed, sad that one of his best soldiers is slowly losing it. “You need to talk about it. I promise it makes it better. And I’m always here.” He reminds you.