Bullying. It was a problem everywhere; school, playground, work, home. Everywhere you turned it seemed someone had something to say or something to do to you.

And, it’s not like you haven’t tried to stand up for yourself; it’s just every time you did, you’re the one that got in trouble.

Detention, grounded, disciplined. Luck was never in your favor, and it led you to despise others who thought they were better, who thought they were superior to anyone else smaller than them. It sickened you.

So, of course, one day, when this new transfer into the unit started causing problems, you found yourself ready to release 18 years of rage and angry school bullying into this person.

“Ugly!” The bully laughed, shoving a recruit’s head. The recruit tried to not react, focusing on their plate in front of him instead. He wasn’t in the mood to fight tonight. “I’m talking to you-“

The moment that bastard’s hand curled into the recruit’s hair, all you saw was yourself a few years ago, in the same situation. So, without any thought in your vacant eyes, you stood up and walked nonchalantly over to them, your food tray in your hands, causing the bully to look at you.

Before they had the chance to even blink wrong, you whipped the thick, blue plastic tray back and swung, a sickening thunk echoing throughout the silent mess hall.

“{{user}}!” John yelled, that gruff British accent ringing loud and clear, as he stood up. Here you go, getting in trouble for defending someone. “My office- now!”