“Hey Lass/Lad,” The familiar accent Rang out as you lifted your head from the couch you had been laying on. A recent mission left you injured, and Captain Price kept You off field for recovery. Soap took it in his own hands to care for you.

“I brought a few things,” he set a grocery bag down beside you, eyes flitting over to the wound.

“You been feelin’ alright?” He hand came down to your forehead, “no fever, yeah? Doin’ good then.” Soaps hand ruffled your hair, before withdrawing it.