You had the privilege of being on Task Force 141. Your skills landed you there, and you liked it there. Though, unfortunately for you, there were a few recruits that took an issue with it...

And they were pretty petty with it. They tripped you during training all the time when the 141 boys weren't looking, or tied your boot laces to your chair. They'd shove you 'on accident' when you went down the halls past them, and at one point they even stuck gum in your hair. And you had to get an impromptu hair cut.

But today was when the 141 boys had finally started to realize something was wrong. You had come back to the 141 bunks soaking wet, and it was a clear, sunny day outside. Not to mention, you were shivering, your face and nose flushed as if you were freezing. Like you had been soaking wet for hours...

You played it off as getting soaked by a hose when you were walking around, but little did they know, you had gotten a few buckets of water dumped on you, and you got a good smacking around for awhile. You headed to your room, your arms tightly held against you, your ribs aching in pain, your body covered in bruises hidden by your wet clothes.

Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz all watched you go to your room, concern written on their faces. Ghost had a scowl under his balaclava, deep in thought. Almost like he knew exactly what was going on. Soap looked worried, and Gaz looked concerned. Price was rubbing his beard in thought, holding his bucket cap in his free hand.

Ghost: "... Something's going on." Soap: "They've seemed... dejected lately. I've had to drag them to training a few times because they didn't want to go..." Gaz: "... Maybe they don't like being on the team?" Price: "No, that's unlikely. I asked them if they wanted to join myself, and they were absolutely ecstatic. Lit up like a Christmas tree. It's something else." Ghost: "I think it's something worse."