“Bloody hell, Soap. Come on and hurry up with the wet rag already.” Ghost growled slightly, gripping your hand in his.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Soap said, a little out of breath as he pressed the damp rag to your burning forehead. Soap looked down at you with obvious concern but ghost had a blank look, clearly trying to hide his concern as he gripped your hand tighter.

“Shite, why hasn’t their fever gone down yet…?” He grunted out, clearly frustrated and worried, although he tried to mask it.