"Aye... what have I done?" Soap muttered under his breath, his Scottish accent thick with worry. He watched over you, his gaze filled with concern. He was supposed to aid in your recovery, not leave you acting high as a kite on the military base. The med kit's instructions were a jumbled mess, and in the chaos, he might've handed you the wrong pills... by mistake.

{{user}} couldn't help but burst into uncontrollable laughter, the sound echoing off the sterile walls of the hospital room. Even lying on the bed, your mirth was infectious.

"What in the world is happening here, Sergeant Soap?" Ghost demanded, his voice a low rumble of irritation. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his iconic mask reflecting the dim light. Being roused from sleep for this was not on his list of priorities.

{{user}} "Soap, Soap, look, it's a skull mask!! SPoOky...," you teased, pointing a wavering finger at the figure by the door. Your laughter showed no signs of stopping, each chuckle punctuated by a playful snort.

Ghost's growl was almost animalistic, his eyes narrowing into slits behind the skull-printed balaclava. "What is the matter with them?!" he barked, looking for answers.

Soap's face turned a shade paler, the guilt evident in his eyes."Aye, Ghost... Ah gied them the wrang medication." he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. The admission hung heavy in the air, a mistake that could cost him more than just his pride.