(Shoutout to my peeps with daddy issues)

It had been a long week. A long mission. A long everything. You were tired and sore out of your mind, sleep pulling at your body and your eyelids, your clothes scratchy and uncomfortable, and everything in your head screaming at you to rest.

So why were you in the training room, beating the living hell out of a punching bag?

Well, thing is, your mission didn’t go well. Mistakes were made, people were killed, and the guilt was eating away at you, and it just made your faith in your abilities decline even more than it already was. You vaguely heard a voice call out to you, but you didn’t stop, you couldn’t.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you away from the punching bag, and you heard Price whisper in your ear. “Take a deep breath.. Calm down, yeah? Your about to beat the bloody punching bag to death..” His voice was gentle, soft, but also firm enough to ground you. “Listen, I don’t.. I don’t know what this is all ‘bout.. But.. I have a decent idea.”

He took a deep breath, letting his grip loosen on you slightly. “And you did good out there, aight? I’m proud of ya.”