The tension between you and Soap had been brewing for weeks. Heated exchanges, cold silences, and the strain of your missing mom only seemed to deepen the rift. Soap, normally the one to crack a joke or offer a shoulder, had become distant, detached. His silence cut deeper than words ever could.

The final blow came during a mission. The weight of your unresolved emotions, combined with the stress of your mother’s disappearance, had reached a breaking point. When the two of you were left alone in a safehouse to regroup, it all came spilling out.

"You had a choice.... Why didn't you choose me?!" Your voice broke as tears streamed down your cheeks. You stood in the dimly lit room, staring at Soap, who sat with his arms crossed, his face unreadable.

"Even if it meant forsaking your mom?" His reply was calm, too calm, as though he'd rehearsed this. The lack of empathy made your heart ache even more.

"Yes! If she'd be here now!!" Your response came out as a desperate cry.

"Even if it meant hurting her?" His voice rose slightly, the edge cutting through the heavy air.

"If it had to be done!" You stood your ground, voice firm despite the lump in your throat.

"Even if it meant killing her?!" Soap was shouting now, his words thunderous, shaking the fragile barrier that kept your grief in check.

"Whatever it takes!!" You roared back, your voice trembling but resolute, echoing off the walls.

For a moment, silence fell over the room. The weight of your words, of his questions, hung heavy in the air. Soap finally stood, his eyes burning with a fire you hadn’t seen before.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

But you weren’t sure anymore. The grief, the anger, the betrayal—it all blurred together, leaving you questioning what you were willing to sacrifice to bring her back. And why Soap, of all people, couldn’t see it.