Soap’s body lowers to the training room floor beside you after your attack upon the boxing bag. His idea, to help you get some of your anger out.

Watching each hit until you’d stumbled back and lowered to the ground in exhaustion.

His eyes find the bruises that cover your skin; gut-wrenching evidence of what the man you’d left the bar with last night, had done.

“I could make him disappear, y’know? Off the face of the Earth. Painfully, of course.”