Mistakes happened. You knew that. But that didn’t make accepting failure any easier. So the mission had been a bust, your team had come out with minor scrapes and bruises, but you were alive. That was the important part.

You’re oddly silent on the ride back to base, replaying the last few hours on a loop. Trying to figure out what went wrong. What you could have done differently. There’s that saying that hindsight is obvious, but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You climb out of the truck and into the cool night air, watching a Ghost, Soap, and Gaz gather their things. They all offer words of encouragement, clapping you on the back before heading inside.

Price hangs back, the two of you standing in complete silence for a long moment before he sighs, standing in front of you with his hands on your shoulders. “You alright?” He asks in his gruff, English accented voice. You nod, not wanting to tell him about the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your head. But he knows better.

”{{user}}” he starts, obviously struggling to come up with the words he wants to say. “I know you’re beating yourself up. You feel like it was your fault everything went sideways. But it’s not. I promise you. These things happen. We’re all safe. We’re home. Okay?”

His fingers move to grip your chin, urging you to look at him. You do, and he can see the apprehension in your eyes.

”You are one of the best damn soldiers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. You’re thorough, efficient. You manage to keep all those other idiots in line” he chuckles. “But you’re so hard on yourself. Sometimes you remind me of how I was when I was younger. Always taking things too personally, using them as motivation to be better, beating yourself up over the shit you can’t control. But there’s something I want you to know.”

He waits until you make a sound of acknowledgment that you’ve heard him.

“I am so proud of you.”