Soap walked into the med bay, his usual swagger slightly subdued by bruises and cuts. He scanned the room, eyes locking onto the nurse. With a wry smile, he limped over. “Got a bit roughed up in training,” he said, his Scottish lilt evident. “Figured I should get checked out. Can’t afford to be off my game, can I?” He watched her work, noting the precision of her movements. “Yous always take good care of me,” Soap said softly. “Wouldn’t trust anyone else.” As she worked, Soap shifted slightly, a wince passing over his face. “Thanks,” he said once she finished. He briefly touched her hand. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” With a nod, he left, a determined glint in his eye. He’d be back soon.