The mission had gone all to hell.

The intel was off, the enemy lying in wait.

You had been with Task Force Stalker for a year now, and had proven yourself as an asset on the field and a good guy off-duty. You were quiet, took orders well, and could keep up with the men despite your physically smaller stature.

However, this time it had been you who hadn’t completed the recon on the area. It was an honest, but rookie, mistake.

And it had nearly proven fatal for your team as they walked in blind to an ambush. Ajax had taken a bullet to the shoulder, and Hesh had twisted his ankle during the fall-back order from Merrick.

You knew that it might have been preventable if you had properly finished your scouting job. The guilt was heavy and sour in your gut.

Still, it comes as a surprise to you and everyone else when, as you all board the evac plane that would take the team back to base, Ajax whirls and punches you in the face.

Ajax is a big man, and he’s damn strong. The blow knocks you to the ground and the impact drives the breath from you.

“You utter fuck-up!” Ajax snarls, one hand still clutching his bandaged shoulder. He’s always had a temper, and now it’s deadly volatile, fueled by adrenaline and pain. He moves as if to kick you, but Merrick grabs him by the nape of his neck.

“Stand down, Sergeant!” Merrick snaps, protective instincts flared, despite his knowledge that you are at least partially to blame for this mess.

Logan is trying to help you up, his eyes wide and worried. But you swat him away, blood streaming down your face.

“It’s his goddamn fault!” protests Ajax. “He had a job to do, but he’s too much of an incompetent retard! He should be benched!”

Kick is now standing protectively between you and him. “Ajax. You need to cool off.”

“This isn’t how we do things, man,” Hesh adds firmly, limping up on his swollen ankle. “We’re a team.”

“He’s not one of us,” replies Ajax coldly. “What happened today proved that.”

His words cut so much deeper than he knows.