scars do heal

6. cracks in porcelain

The bed felt too comfortable to leave. You laid there much longer than you should have, staring at the familiar ceiling of your room that you had strangely missed. The comforting walls shielding you in from facing the boys outside.

It had been three days since you were allowed to move to your room instead. The team hadn't seen much of you, and they hadn't pried for you to join them during meals or in the evening around the fire. They kept their distance, Price advising them to give you some time to adjust and heal. You had appreciated it, not really wanting to be around everyone right now. You knew that they would act differently around you, be quieter and watch what they said, be careful as to not touch you or go near you with any sudden movements.

It felt silly, really. But you understood why they were doing it. They were worried. Even having you back. Alive. They worried for you. They needed you back, and soon. The team had to be whole again to deal with Hassan and the missile.

-

Stepping into the briefing room, you were happy that your leg was starting to hurt a little less now. The stretches that Gaz had recommended to you after his leg injury had really helped you out, you almost felt yourself again.

The boys all looked to you as you entered, a warm smile appearing on their faces. "Well, well. If it isn't our phoenix rising from the ashes," Soap clapped his hands together while walking over to you. You didn't expect him to hug you, but his arms enveloped you and you embraced it.

"Well, I gotta get in on this," Gaz grinned, running around the table and making it a three way hug. Ghost just rolled his eyes, but walked over anyway. He didn't hug you, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Alejandro and Rodolfo appeared moments later, joining the embrace. You laughed quietly as they hugged you, glad to have you back. Finally separating, you saw Price smiling at you all, his moustache turning up slightly.

"Alright, boys," Price said, turning everyone's attention to him. "We got Hassan in lockup and no way of finding this damn missile. If we can get some information out of him, maybe we can get a lead on the missile. Or some way of stopping it before its released." You all walked to the table, standing around it and listening to the captain. "But it is nice to have you back at the table, Rook."

"Phoenix," everyone droned, rolling their eyes playfully.

"You call her what you like," Price smiled, "She's Rook to me." You couldn't help but smile. "So, let's figure out what we're doing, and get it done right this time."

-

The shipping container's dark navy tint shone bright on the side of the sun. Heat and light radiated off it, and you couldn't imagine how hot it would be once you were inside it. The team walked over to the container, all standing at the closed door, fingers wiggling with anticipation to get this over with.

"You gonna be alright in there rook?" Price asked you quietly, coming up beside you. His arm brushed against yours and you leaned into his comforting touch slightly.

"I'll be fine," you responded, your tone firm. "I want to see that son of a bitch again anyway. Might give him a matching scar to mine."

Price knew you weren't being seriously. Mostly. You had every right to kill that bastard, but you needed that information first. After that, he was ready to look the other way and let you lock that shipping door behind you. "Alright, love." He trusted you. Entirely.

Price pulled the door open, letting the light seep through to the dimly lit container. "Let's get this over with." There was a single flickering lightbulb to illuminate the dingy shipping container. A single metal chair was positioned in the center of the holding container, facing away from the door, and Hassan was sitting in it, cuffed to the seat. Seemed pretty ironic that he had you in this same predicament not one week prior.