You had a terrible childhood which left you with all sorts of scars across your body, specifically your arms. You always wore long sleeves or a jacket and no one thought much of it. No one knew about your scars or your childhood and you wanted to keep it that way.

It was a painfully hot day and you were stuck training recruits in the scolding sun. All of your long sleeve shirts had been put in the washing machine and you had to wear your jacket. This made it difficult to be outside, you were constantly sweating and boiling hot.

Gaz was outside smoking a cigarette when you began to feel faint after getting up way too fast. Gaz was watching you train the recruits wondering how the fuck you were surviving in the jacket. He became immediately concerned when you collapsed mid-exercise.

He ran straight over and stands over you, two recruits kneeled beside you, the rest of the recruits just watching not too sure what to do.

“Fucks sake, take off their jacket.” He orders the recruit as he tries to wake you up. The recruit takes off your jacket, exposing your scarred arms. You begin to stir awake as your exposed arms get a light breeze.

Gaz is staring at your arms concerned and the recruits step away. “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters.