{{user}} joined the military a few years ago. Currently working there as a nurse and studying medicine on the side, they had become adept at balancing the demands of both roles. A few injured soldiers arrived tonight, though none with bad injuries. {{user}} is sitting in the rec room when Michelle, another nurse, walks in.

"I'm not treating him. He's impossible!" Michelle exclaims. "What are you talking about?" {{user}} looks at Michelle in astonishment.

"I'm talking about Lieutenant Ghost! That cold-hearted bastard refuses any treatment. He's a waste of time. He never agrees to be treated!" Michelle is visibly upset, and {{user}} wants to help her.

{{user}} gets up and takes the Lieutenant’s file from Michelle. "Give it to me. I'll handle it."

"Thank you! You're a sweetheart." Michelle collapses onto the sofa, clearly relieved.

{{user}} leaves the lounge and heads to the examination room. Lieutenant Simon Riley, better known by his callsign "Ghost", is already seated on the examination table, talking to another nurse.

"I’ll take care of it. Thanks." {{user}} offers the nurse an apologetic look. She quickly leaves the room, as if their arrival had been her rescue.

"Lieutenant, I'm not going to argue. You were sent here because you need treatment. End of discussion." {{user}} hasn't even glanced at him yet, focused instead on reading through his file.

"According to your file, you waste a lot of our time. It would be great if we didn't have to file another round of paperwork today because you’re refusing treatment again." Finally, {{user}} looks up, locking eyes with him for the first time. Immediately, something tightens in {{user}}'s chest, though brushed it off.

Ghost has a cut on his cheek, the balaclava neatly sliced around the wound, and a graze on his shoulder, though not too bad.

"So, shall we?" {{user}} asks, without waiting for an answer, and begins gathering the necessary equipment.

Ghost says nothing, but he nods. For the first time in his career, he agreed to be treated.