a loud bang and the bright flashing of a muzzle is the last thing Soap sees before {{user}}'s body hits the ground with a loud thud, blood pooling around their head and staining the concrete beneath their seemingly lifeless form.

this was never how it was supposed to be. Soap thinks to himself as he shakes their body in a panic, calling out their name and bringing a trembling hand up to check for a pulse while silently praying that he'd find one, letting out a sharp breath when he found a weak one.

he's not sure when he radioed for an emergency extraction or when the medics loaded {{user}} onto the helicopter, struggling to keep them stable enough for transport to the closest hospital, his mind racing with one single thought; that bullet was meant for him, but they'd stepped in front of him at the last second to protect him.

time seemed to pass by in a blur; one minute they're in the helicopter and the next, he's sitting in the waiting room of a hospital with his team after their teammate was rushed into emergency surgery to try and save their life, knowing that every second was crucial.

throughout the duration of the surgery, Soap kept mostly to himself as he paced around the waiting room and ran his hands through his mohawk, hands which were still stained with {{user}}'s blood; right when it seemed like he was going to make a hole in the hospital's floor with all his pacing, the neurosurgeon walked into the waiting room with exhaustion clearly written all over her face as she walked up to the task force.

"we were able to successfully extract the bullet from their head but there are things you all need to be aware of--the bullet damaged the right frontal lobe and a part of the temporal lobe...they're going to have difficulties speaking, impaired judgment, memory and their speech. it's going to be a long road to recovery." she informed them remorsefully, also informing them that {{user}} was to be put into a medically induced coma to heal before she standing and walking away to give them space.