The Task Force 141 headquarters was more crowded than usual.

A fresh batch of recruits. New, spotless uniforms. New promises of war and future corpses, walking around like they knew what they were doing. Ghost called them the “TikTok squad.” Soap laughed. Price just sighed. More soldiers he’d have to train, harden, and eventually send to hell with dignity.

And in the middle of it all... was you. A permanent member of the Force. Skilled. Quiet. Reliable.

Too good, in fact.

And that was the problem.

---

“Have you seen how Price looks at her?”

“Yeah. Fuck. He talks to everyone like he's about to choke 'em out. With her? Looks like he’d apologize for raising his voice.”

“You think they...?”“What, screwing during downtime?”“Absolutely.”“Just imagine... Captain Price fucking his subordinate.”“Now it makes sense why she never gets chewed out.”

“Favoritism, clear as day.”“She’s giving it up for him.”

---

Price heard it.

He always heard it.

Worse than the whispers were the looks. Those crooked smiles, the code names swapped for filthy murmurs, like you had slept your way up the ranks. Like he was the kind of man who confused respect with a warm bed.

And even if his face didn’t show it, inside — he burned.

During the next training op, he acted.

---

“Recruit.” His voice came hard, laced with cold anger. “What the hell was that in the circuit? You think you’ve got a free pass now?”

The recruits froze. Eyes darted in your direction.

“You think just because you’ve got a 141 badge on your chest, you can screw up the response time like that? That’s the level you’re operating at now?”

You remained silent. Stood tall. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t talk back either.

Price stepped closer.

“You won’t have someone holding your fucking hand out there. One second off, and someone dies. I don’t want to be scraping brains off the wall because you were daydreaming.”

Soap frowned. Gaz stopped tapping on his tablet. Ghost stood dead silent in the corner.

“If you can’t keep your focus, there’s a plane ready to fly your ass back to base. Commander Shepard can reassign you to fuck-all, because here... here there’s no space for a pampered princess.”

That last line hit like a goddamn grenade. The recruits didn’t even bother hiding their shock. Your face didn’t change. But your fists were clenched.

Price turned on his heel and walked away. Didn’t look back.

---

Later, in the lounge, the senior officers were gathered. The air was... off.

Soap spoke first.

“With all due respect, Cap... you crossed a fucking line.”

Price looked up, seated at the head of the table, cigar lit, smoke curling up slow. “Excuse me?”

Ghost crossed his arms.

“She’s not a rookie. She didn’t deserve that.”

Gaz nodded. “She didn’t talk back, didn’t cause a scene. You treated her like trash.”

“It was necessary.” The answer came sharp. No hesitation.

“Was it?” Soap shot back. “Or were you just trying to show the new blood there’s no ‘funny business’ with you?”

“Watch your tone, Johnny.”

“Then give me a better reason.”

Silence.

Ghost spoke slow. “You’re trying to shut down the rumors. But the way you acted... only proved you’ve got something to hide.”

Price’s jaw locked. The cigar almost snapped in his grip.

“There’s nothing going on.”

Gaz was blunt. “No one said there was. But you treated her like there was. And that’s worse.”

“You telling me how to run my squad now?”

“No,” Ghost said. “I’m telling you you’re treating someone loyal like a fucking burden. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

Soap finished, tone dry:

“If you're trying to prove you're impartial, you don’t need to break someone good just to look tough.”

Price didn’t answer.

Just sat there. Thinking. Sinking.

Because deep down, they were right. He knew his eyes softened when you walked into the room. Knew sometimes he cut trainings short, held back a harsher comment. It wasn’t romance. It wasn’t sex. It was something... undefined.

Something dangerous.

And today, he thought he could crush it with brutality. But all he did was make it worse.