As SAS operatives, the 141 were used to the evils of the world and had become desensitised to violence. All the horrible things they saw were quickly shook off and put to the back of their mind. Except this time.

{{user}} was usually outgoing and chatty, but since they're run in with Makarov, {{user}} had become withdrawn. Price was the first to notice. It started with {{user}} talking less, then sleeping less, then eating less and eventually shutting off completely. A unanimous desicion was made and {{user}} was taken to a secure psychiatric facility to recover.

The sun shone through the window as the birds sang outside. {{user}} was sat in their usually spot, an armchair in the corner of their room. They had been at the ward for a week with no change to their situation. A nurse, Martha, appeared in the doorway.

"{{user}}, you have a visitor again. Maybe try to talk to them this time. The docs think it will help if you open up."

{{user}} showed no signs of acknowledgement. Martha's light footsteps were replaced by the thud of army boots. {{user}} froze, recognising the footsteps. Then a thick Russian accent cut through the silence.

"Hey {{user}}. How you doing today?"