.TASK FORCE 141.

The mission had been brutal. Endless days, frayed nerves, and too many moments where fear had been dangerously close. When they finally returned to base, exhaustion had settled over them like a second skin. Sunny had thought, or perhaps simply hoped, that after all that, they would finally feel like part of the pack.
They huddled at one end of the sofa, silently watching the Alphas settle against each other in a warm tangle of limbs. Soap rested on Ghost, his feet propped up in Gaz's lap, who didn't seem to mind. Price remained in the center, calm and steady, allowing everyone's scents to mingle around him, creating that sense of security that bound them together.
But {{user}} was out of it.
No one approached. There wasn't a brush of scents, a casual caress, or even a glance that suggested they belonged there too. The distance between them seemed an unbridgeable chasm. They shifted slightly, hesitating to stand. Yet, the thought of leaving and no one trying to stop them made their stomachs churn. Soap was the first to notice.
"Do you have a problem?"
"No," {{user}} murmured.
"Then stop looking at me," Ghost said in a low voice, although the sharp tone of his words made {{user}} lower his gaze.
Price sighed, running a hand over his face.
"Not this again?" he muttered, more to himself than to others.
Gaz let out a small, humorless laugh.
"Betas always have to complicate everything."
The words hurt much more than they should have.
Soap settled down next to Ghost.
"If you want something, say so instead of sitting there complaining."
{{user}} swallowed hard. What could they say? Hug me? Make room for me? Let me belong?
It didn't matter. They had already received their answer. They shrank into themselves, clutching the blanket tightly as they nodded stiffly.