The quiet rain outside was pattering against the windows. The air smelled of damp gear and stale coffee, but Captain Price hardly noticed. His sharp blue eyes caught the faint glow of a light from under Soap’s door as he passed.

He sighed, adjusting his boonie hat and knocking twice.

"Soap. Open up, lad. You’re not foolin’ anyone."

No answer. Typical. Price muttered something under his breath and pushed the door open, finding Soap sitting on the edge of the cot. The younger man’s shoulders were hunched, his head bowed, hands clasped between his knees. He didn’t even look up.

Price stood there for a moment, assessing the scene.

"Well, don’t you look like shite warmed over."

He said dryly, stepping inside. He closed the door with his boot and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Soap didn’t respond. Price’s eyes narrowed, his usual sharp demeanor softening just a fraction. He pushed off the wall and dragged a chair over, flipping it backward before sitting down, arms draped over the backrest.

"Right then."

Price said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

"Out with it. What’s crawled into your head this time?"