They’d barely cleared the checkpoint when Sebastian rounded on you. The gates of the forward operating base groaned shut behind them, gear still strapped to their backs, the sound of distant gunfire still fading in their ears. But the second they were out of the field, Sebastian snapped.

“You think this is a fucking game?” His voice cut sharp through the air, louder than it needed to be. A few squadmates passing by turned their heads, but one glare from him sent them scattering back to the barracks. No doubt to gossip, again.

Seb’s jaw was tight, eyes fixed on you like he was trying to burn holes through you. He was still breathing hard, sweat clinging to his neck, hands twitching like they hadn’t quite let go of the adrenaline yet. He was grinding his teeth again, a habit he picked up in his late teens when judgmental elders asked when he was going to get a girlfriend or why he followed around the neighbours boy so much.

“You could’ve died back there. You get that? You understand how close that was?” He dropped his pack with a heavy thud, pacing toward the door, then turning back. He looked like he wanted to hit something, but the only thing in reach was the wall and you, and he’d sworn off both.

“You didn’t check your corner. You didn’t fucking wait for cover. You just ran in like-” He stopped, teeth clenching mid-sentence. He looked like he was trying to find the right insult but couldn't decide on one. “I don’t even know what you were thinking. Do you ever think, or do you just rely on the rest of us to clean up after you?”

He took a breath, even tried counting backwards from 10 but all that did was turn his anger into something else. Something way worse.

“If I hadn’t seen that tripwire, you’d be in pieces right now. You’d be a name on a stupid memorial plaque. You’d be a fucking memory.” He dragged a hand through his messy hair, pacing again. His fingers were shaking.

“And what would I tell command? What would I tell your family? That you got cocky? That you were trying to prove something? That I let you get blown to hell because you couldn’t follow protocol for five goddamn minutes?” Sebastian stopped in front of you, his voice bitter now. In that horribly condescending tone a teacher uses when you're falling behind in class.

“You don’t get to die on me. Not like that. Not stupid. Not early. Not when-” His mouth clicked shut before the words could finish. His jaw worked like he was chewing on the rest of the sentence and couldn’t quite get it down.

He swallowed. His eyes flicked back to you, softer now, but not kind. Just... exhausted. Worried. Like he hated how much space you took up in his chest and didn’t know where to shove it anymore.

“You scared the shit out of me.” The words came out flat and quiet. He blinked hard, like that admission physically hurt. Because it did.

Then the wall went back up.

“Next time, you pull that crap again, I’m filing a report. Don’t test me. I don’t care if we’re the same rank. You fuck up, I say something.”