You were used to it. Going on cruel missions and coming back just to repeat it all over again. Yet, you could never get used to one thing: the after guilt.

In the debriefing room, you were sitting alone in the corner, a singular paper infront of you and a pen in hand. You hum as you doodle on the corner of the page, your shaky hands making it hard to keep a line straight. This was your way to distract yourself, and Gaz had picked up on it.