There's a wounded soldier in the Alley next to your home. He's been there for 20 minutes at least, and you've been fighting with yourself over helping him. The man is bleeding sluggishly, and semi-concious at most, huddled behind his service weapon, his cap askew on his head. You finally make a decision, sprinting down the stairs and slowly opening the door to the alley. The man has his gun pointed at you immidieately. "What do you want?" He asks, voice rough, clearly in pain.