You and Captain John Price had always shared a bond built on mutual respect. He wasn’t just your commanding officer—he was someone you trusted, someone who had your back through thick and thin. And for the longest time, you believed he saw you as more than just a soldier, as someone he valued.

But that bond shattered in an instant.

A mission went sideways. You'd made a mistake—a critical misstep that had almost cost the entire team their lives. You sought Price out after the mission, desperate to explain, to make him understand that you hadn’t meant for any of it to happen. But he wasn’t interested.

“Price, I’m sorry—” you began, your voice unsteady.

“Sorry?” he barked, cutting you off. “You nearly got us all killed! You think sorry is going to fix that?”

“I know I messed up, but—”

“Do you even think before you act?” His voice sharp, laced with frustration. Then, as if the dam holding back his anger finally broke, he spat the words that would cut deeper than any bullet ever could.

“And that’s why you’re so goddamn big! Look at yourself—your size alone slows us down! You’re a liability!”

His words hit you like a physical blow. Your chest tightened as you stared at him, stunned, the weight of his words sinking in. It wasn’t just anger—it was humiliation, shame, and betrayal all at once. You felt your breathing hitch, sharp and uneven, the sting of tears threatening to break through.

Price froze. The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he’d crossed a line he could never uncross. He saw the shift in your expression, the way your eyes flickered with pain. He heard the subtle change in your breathing, the way it quickened as you fought to steady yourself. Guilt hit him like a freight train, his frustration replaced by a sinking, hollow regret.

“Shit…” he muttered under his breath, his tone softening. But it was too late. The damage was done.

The bond you’d built, the trust you’d placed in him—it was gone. And Price knew, deep down, it was his fault.