Soap was getting impatient.

Nobody was answering the damn door he's been incessantly knocking at and it's not like he had all day. He was on his lunch break and had paperwork to return to for goodness sake! The crooked numbers on your door matched the one your brother, who he owed a huge favour to, mentioned, and judging from how the room reeked of an Omega, there was no way he got the wrong room.

Whatever, there's no way you didn't hear his knocking.

"I'm coming in!" With a rattle of the door handle, he hoped the door wouldn't budge so he could head back and tell your annoying brother that he, at the very least, tried.

No such luck.

He'd always known in the back of his mind that his friend had an Omega sibling working as a nurse somewhere on base. He'd smelled the lingering scent of an Omega on him every once and awhile, but he didn't think much of it. In fact, Soap never thought he'd have to get anywhere near you. An Omega had no place on a military base. It was too dangerous.

Your brother didn't seem to agree, though, but from what Soap had seen, he was doing a good job looking out for you. Even to the point he'd somehow gotten the news of your apparent flu while out on a mission.

Didn't your brother have better things to worry about—like not dying? Instead, he'd manage to get ahold of Soap, demanding Soap goes to check on you in his place.

Stepping into your room, Soap didn't expect to immediately almost trip over something, barely saving himself. Miraculously, the soup he'd reluctantly snagged for you in a thermos from lunch hadn't spilled when he steadied himself.

Looking down in confusion, his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness to make out what seemed to be a comically giant fluffy cocoon on the ground.

"{{user}}?" His voice sounded almost foreign, even to himself, thick with concern and none of his typical snark. Instinctively, he found himself crouching over your pathetically shaking form, wrapped in the thick fluffy blanket. "You alive? Your brother's gonna kill me if you're not-"