After being packed into another truck for what was the hundredth time that week, for some bizarre reason, there wasn't enough space on the musty old vehicle for you to sit comfortably at.

As you were shoved into the truck by force, Soap graciously made leg room for you until you mindlessly shifted into his lap.

As your fellow men pushed aimlessly to find some room, Soap grasped your arm to steady you as the vehicle moved. "Are you alright?" he asked.