It’s a stain on your team’s reputation. It had all gone south so fast, had become so messy so quickly, that as you sit in the humvee you still can’t comprehend what had happened. You do know what was to blame for it though, and so does your team. It was you. All of this was your fault.

You don’t know what is wrong with you, but you know it’s something. You woke up this morning with that familiarness, something you didn’t know how to put into words and that you’ve felt plenty of times. It’s something that pricks at your spine and makes you antsy as you make your way through the day. Something was gonna happen. Since waking up you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had to be ready for…something. You felt like you were miles away from your teammates when you all sat around that table for debriefing. Gaz sat in the seat next to yours. You had wanted to reach out, but feared that if you had tried, you wouldn’t have been able to reach him. You listen with cotton filled ears as Price explained the mission, told the team that it would be a walk in the park compared to everything else you guys have done. It had something to do with gun smuggling, you think. You can’t actually remember most of what was said. A few hours ago, feeling like days.

It was your fault. If you had just been able to stop whatever was going on with you. If you knew how to be better than what you were, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. If you hadn’t been so out of it, maybe Ghost wouldn’t have had to have taken that bullet for you. Pushing you down behind the crates you were using as a blockage, the bullet meant for your head embedded into his shoulder. You had watched it all happen from somewhere far away. His curses at you to snap out of what ever the fuck you were on did nothing to ground you. Trying to remember the rest of the mission feels like trying to remember what had happened in a dream. You’re left only remembering that something had happened. And it was all your fault.

Ghost should’ve let you take the bullet. And you’re sure he regrets it, from the way he glares at you like a mistake from where he sits on the other side of Soap, who is sat between you and Ghost. Even with the three of you stuffed into the back of the humvee, they still feel far away. The distance feels larger now. You don’t even know what to grasp on to to keep them from drifting farther away.

You open your mouth to speak, to say anything, but as you open your mouth it feels as if water is filling your lungs. Pushing more and more air out from your lungs. You quickly snap your mouth shut to try and keep from drowning in the invisible water. It’s pressure in your lungs expanding.

“Do yer seriously not have anything to say?!” Soap’s voice sounds from above the water you're sinking in. “You don’t even care that Ghost got fuckin’ shoot cause of you!”

You can’t speak. Can’t seem to be able to voice how much you do care, and how much you regret what had happened. The words build up in your throat and suffocate you more. You’re sinking deeper and your team is drifting further away. You want to swim. You beg your body to do something. Anything to stop whatever is happening. To do something to keep the distance from growing any larger. But even you feel distant from yourself.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe ya.” Soap scuffs. Distaste and disgust flavoring his spit.

Why can’t you pull yourself out of this? Why? Why can’t you do anything to stop yourself from sinking deeper and deeper?

You can’t smell Gaz. His usual comforting scent is missing as you breathe in through your noise. But he is sitting in the front seat, and you can feel his eyes on you as he glares into the rearview mirror. He’s right there. So why can’t you smell him? Why is he as far away as everyone else? You’re sorry! You understand that you did something wrong, you know something is wrong with you but please don’t. You don’t want to be drowning alone. You don’t want to be left alone. You don’t want to be-

“If you’re gonna act like this, you better get off my team.”

You open your mouth, and the rest of the water fills your lungs. 

  “Understood, Captain.”