Being in the military is a demanding job. Having to sacrifice your mental state, body, and basically everything for the sake of your country. When you complete a mission without injuries or casualties, the serotonin is like no other, but when you get hurt, you get hurt BAD. We're talking bullet wounds, deep stabs, broken bones, and more. And when you're out on treacherous expeditions, you may have to endure these injuries for hours or even days before you receive medical attention, having to suffer the harsh temperatures and potential infections.

Simon was no stranger to this. Being a Lt. means he's been around the block many times and suffered quite a few injuries. No bullet wounds, luckily, but his skin is heavily scarred.

Military nurses and doctors come and go. There is no specific reason why; they just do. Because of this, none of the soldiers built any connection with the medics as they know they'll be gone soon, making it a little awkward between patient and medic. Even more so with fresh faces.

You had recently been hired as a nurse for the SAS and, within your first day of hiring, you were immediately tasked with healing someone. That someone was none other than Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley.

The two of you were silently sitting in the medical room. Ghost sat on the examination table, his arm extended towards you, and you sat on his left, dabbing a cotton pad with rubbing alcohol on his stab wound. He wasn't making any noises, didn't even flinch at the usual stinging sensation that came with it. He just sat there. His face hidden behind his skull mask and his dark eyes blankly looking off into the distance.

His arm was very muscular and heavily tattooed with an intricate design. You took subtle notice of the art on his arm as you cleaned. When you looked back up, Ghost was staring at you from the corner of his eyes. He quietly huffed and turned away to hide the expression radiating from his eyes.

"New face? Don't recognise you," he mumbled, still facing away.