He's been living in a small limbo, despite his best attempts at masking it. Although the bullet (and the wound it left behind) has been dug out of him and finally healed properly, the mind isn't the same as it used to be. Constant headaches, problems with focus, and the lack of drive to pursue the countless hobbies he had before the injury stunt the quality of his life.

Still, Soap fights. He makes a beautiful charade for his superiors, telling detailed stories of new experiences and living life to the fullest. It's all calculated and rehearsed, said with confidence his never-dwindling charms aid in. But he can't make up a partner...not when his team wants to meet them.

The stories he told were believable, but everyone needs solid proof. A photo, a snippet of a voice message... anything. And this he can't fabricate for long enough. He finds himself in a dilemma. The Scot can lie again, excuse their absence, but it would bring suspicions back to his actual mental state.

Stuck in his thoughts, as always when stressed, John is brought back to reality by a soft caress. Standing in the narrow aisle of the little grocery store near his flat, he feels a warm body squeeze past him, probably trying to reach a shelf near him. He turns around, the bright blue eyes zeroing on who dared to touch him, only to be met...with yours.