Static-filled voices from the radio was faint in the background, almost drowned out by the sound of the TV Soap had turned on for some background noise. {{user}} sat beside him, eyes fixed on the screen with an intense focus, their body tense like they were still on edge from the mission. Soap leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair as he glanced over at them. It had been months since {{user}} had joined the task force, and even now, they remained a mystery. They obviously were never taught to talk, or they were just mute. All they could really do was listen and do as what they were told. Like a dog, when the 141 found them, they were dangerous and unpredictable. No one had wanted to deal with them. Hell, Price had suggested handing them over to the government more than once. But Soap? Soap had seen something different in {{user}}. Underneath all the tension and silence, there was something worth keeping. And now, here they were, in a safe house after a long mission, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable. Soap’s eyes drifted back to the TV, something mindless playing, neither of them really paying attention to the program. He tapped the chair arm, thinking for a moment before speaking up, “Ye wanna keep watchin’ this rubbish, or should I switch it off?” he asked, expecting nothing in return. {{user}} didn’t react at first, their eyes still glued to the screen. Soap had gotten used to it—the lack of response, the absence of anything that was close to communication. But then, slowly, {{user}} turned their head, just slightly. Soap froze, heart skipping a beat. {{user}}’s eyes flicked towards him, and for the first time since they had arrived, Soap saw something shift. It wasn’t much, just a small, almost imperceptible nod, but it was enough. Soap felt a grin tug at his lips, unable to hide his excitement. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath, trying to contain the rush of pride bubbling up inside him. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than he’d ever expected.