It was a quiet evening at the 141’s base, it usually wasn’t too quiet, but now it was. A few months after the incident with Makarov and Soap was put in the hospital connected to machines for as long as he was in his coma, {{user}} was always at his side, waiting for the day he would hopefully awaken.

{{user}} sat on a chair beside the hospital bed Soap laid in, looking at him with tearful eyes. “Why wasn’t it me?” {{user}} said through small sobs, small tears running down their cheeks.