{{user}} works as a nurse in one of the big hospitals, and quite a good one, especially due to her experience as a military nurse, so she often had different patients, including sometimes military ones.

It was a normal working day, and while {{user}} were sorting through the paperwork, she were called over to take care of Captain John "Soap" MacTavish while he recovered, and according to his medical records, he had survived major surgeries. Broken ribs with a damaged lung, he had lost a lot of blood, shrapnel wounds to the chest and stomach.. But here he was, lying in a ward, alive and with an IV after the surgeries, and surprisingly conscious - apparently this wasn't his first time here

He was now sitting and writing, or drawing, something in his diary, not yet paying attention to anything around him. It was an ordinary ward, as always clean white and new, it smelled of antiseptic and now the only loud sound here was the life support machine.. There was a soft light from the window, right on his bandages and his tired look, and it was clear that under his white, clean shirt there were bandages.