Task Force 141 always had a hard time readjusting to life after coming back from an op. Especially if it had gone tits up like the one they were returning from.

Their intel had been false and used to trap them, thankfully, they were quick to think on their feet. Everyone got out safe and their mission was somehow successful. Though, this had left them in a perpetual fight or flight mode. Feeling antsy the whole ride back to base, even being pressed close together, for the comfort of each others presence, wasn't enough to settle their nerves.

Even the sight of you, hurriedly rushing to embrace them after they got in the door to John's flat wasn't enough. The flat John had that became the 141's, and your, home. The flat that was, basically, where they spent all their leave instead of their own places. The place that felt and smelt like home, where most of their stuff was and where you would be when they returned. You who, they swore, would never see a battlefield a day in your life. Over their dead bodies.

It took you leaving, for nothing more than a minute, and returning with their collars to put them even slightly at ease. The weight of their designated collars fitting snugly around their necks finally helping to alleviate their overworking minds.

You had told them to drop their stuff where they stood, in the entrance of the flat, and then go sit at the table you had set. They could smell the meal you had made, after Price had sent you a message that they returned to base safe.

They did it without question; once the collars were on, you were in control. What you said was law, and they were to follow orders.

Johnny would be the first to come back to himself, he was the easiest to get out of their post op state of mind. Orders easy to follow to help guide his mind back to the present, back to the safety of home.

Gaz would follow after, always having more on his mind than he let others know. Always thinking over what could have been done better, what he could change in the future. The relief of being home and with his partners at his side to rid him of his never ending doubts would help him to ease back into off base life.

Price would be second to last, the perpetual headache of being the captain making it harder to come back to his civilian self. Having to always question if he made the right calls, dealing with higher ups, the endless paperwork, the need to be one step ahead of every plan; it ate away at his brain. Being reminded he wasn't on base, that his lovers were no longer the soldiers he was scared of leading to their deaths. You would remind him to simply follow your orders and let you take care of the rest, take care of him.

Ghost would be the last, always on edge, never fully feeling relaxed unless he was in a space that felt like a true home to him. Sometimes, that wasn't enough. He would need proximity to everyone, need to be able to hear and see that they were ok. He was the one to always survey for danger, even if the danger did not exist inside their home. Once he felt nothing could touch those he loved, or himself, he would start to relax. A fully relaxed Ghost would take more time, but the lot of you were more than happy to give him that time.