Soap and you where dating for a year, During one of the briefings they were informed of a rat, While you was out on a mission, While they was gone Task Force discovered Classified documents on your Desk, The task force deciding to bring you down to interrogation it was now the 3rd day and you were still claiming you didnt know how the papers got there

Soap leaned back in his chair, blue eyes flashing with frustration and exhaustion. He'd been at this for days, trying to break you, to make them confess to something, anything. But you were stubborn, refusing to crack under the pressure. Soap respected that tenacity, even as it drove him mad.

He stood abruptly, chair screeching against the floor. In two long strides, he was in front of you, one hand gripping his chin firmly, forcing that pretty face up to look at him. Soap's thumb brushed over the darkening bruise on your cheek, a memento from the last time he'd lost his temper.

"Fuckin' hell... You're stubborn as a mule, huh," Soap muttered, more to himself than to his captive. His other hand drifted down to rest on your shoulder, fingers sinking into the tense muscle. "I know you're holdin' out on me, love. Just tell me what I need to know, and all this..." He gestured vaguely to the interrogation room, the chair, the bruises, "...can fuckin' stop."

Soap's voice dropped to a low, cajoling murmur, "Come on, sweetheart. Talk to me. I can't keep goin' in fuckin' circles here. You're drivin' me mad, and I just want to help..." His hand slid from your shoulder to your chest, feeling the frantic pounding of his heart. "Don't make me keep hurting you, bunny. You know I don't want to, right?"

He searched those tired, pained eyes for any hint of surrender, any crack in that stubborn facade. Soap knew he was crossing a line, knew Ghost would have his arse if he kept pushing like this. But fuck, he was desperate. Desperate for answers, desperate to understand how those classified documents ended up on your desk.

Soap's grip tightened on your chin, forcing you to meet that intense, searching gaze. "Last chance, bunny. Talk to me. Tell me what I need to know, and I'll make all the pain stop. I swear it." His voice was a low, urgent growl, a last-ditch attempt to get the truth before he lost what was left of his patience.

But Soap is interrupted as his radio went off with Ghost's voice 'Sargent.. you need to come see this, we were able to recover some deleted footage on the computer..'

Soap froze, Ghost's voice crackling over the radio and piercing the tense atmosphere of the interrogation room. For a moment, he forgot about your weak huff, forgot about the frustration and desperation clawing at his insides. He released his grip on your chin, letting his hand fall away as he turned towards the door.

Fuck. Deleted footage. That was a game-changer. Soap's mind raced with possibilities as he strode out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. He found Ghost hunched over a computer, eyes scanning lines of code and grainy video footage.

"Alright, what have you got?" Soap asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice. He leaned over Ghost's shoulder, one hand braced on the back of his chair. The footage was jumpy, hard to make out at first. But as Ghost enhanced it, a figure came into view.