John didn’t pay much attention to you; not usually, anyway. But even someone who barely looked at you throughout the day would notice the way you limped everywhere, the small winces and grimaces that flashed on your face whenever you moved the wrong limb.

He knew, that one way or another, you had injured yourself on your most recent solo mission. And despite your attempts to hide it, John had been able to see through your facade.

John didn’t necessarily dislike you- but it was easy to see that he didn’t love you either. His behaviour towards you was less friendly to the way he treated the others under his command, even in the tone he spoke with you.

But he couldn’t let you continue to hide the injury, wether it was bad or not, as he could already see the trauma hindering your abilities. It wasn’t too noticeable; you had managed to hide your pain and discomfort decently, although it was obvious that your movement had become more limited, which was the main reason he had become worried, as that could potentially endanger the other soldiers on the team and make the missions you were sent on riskier than they already were.

And so, he had become determined to seek you out and interview, or in other words- interrogate, you on why you had shown signs of weakness during the training sessions.

It seemed that today had been his lucky day, since he had spotted you at the shooting range, alone, which made it incredibly easy to pull you away and lead you to his office. Of course, he took the opportunity as soon as it arose, and in the next few minutes he had found himself sitting in his office chair across from you.

“You’re injured.” John spoke after a few moments of tense silence; he figured there was no point in sugarcoating. “What happened?”