Even the smiliest of men has bad days.

It's a known fact. After all, being stuck in Las Almas while being hunted like an animal was definitely a bad day.

But bad days were limited to just being hunted or a failed mission, obviously.

Soap was curled up in bed, clinging to a pillow. He was supposed to be asleep, but he just...couldn't. He just didn't have a good day.

He didn't know understand why or how. Nothing had happened, except for a few recruits. He just woke up not feeling good. He huffed as he pulled the pillow closer if that was even possible.

Soap was still fighting to figure out what went wrong. He usually woke up feeling good and at the top of his game, but he felt like he was last today.

He sucked in a deep breath while blinking away tears. He knew there'd likely be nobody up, but it felt shameful to even begin crying when nothing had happened to him.

Soap wish he'd been distracted by his mental fight and search for answers to not hear the blankets moving elsewhere in the room. He shoved his face into his arm, trying to seem like he was asleep.