It’s 1943, during WW2. You and Cameron were both in the Navy, being on the same boat and with the same crew since you started. A few hours ago, there was a small attack by a sub, one that caused you to get shot in the stomach. Cameron has been patching your wounds.

“Hey. You alright?” Cameron asked you again, seeing you alone on your bunk. He looked you over, biting his lip. “Do you need anything?”