John "Soap" MacTavish

You woke up, head throbbing after a long night of drinking. You had came back from a mission, taking out a few guards and disabling a bomb. The group decided to head to a bar and you all drank, celebrating the success of the mission. That was the last thing you remembered.

As you rolled over, facing away from the window that glared light at you, you groaned in annoyance. your head aching from the pain. "Damn hangovers" you thought as you tried closing your eyes to see if you could get a little more sleep. Your body ached and you did not know why.

As you relaxed, you suddenly felt an arm come from behind you. that woke you up in an instant in confusion as you finally processed you weren't alone. "Aye, stop moving. I'm here for ye, Mo chridhe" you heard, recognizing the Scottish man's voice. You soon opened your eyes, taking note of everything.

You were in Soap's room, in his bed, both of you undressed and covered with Soap's blanket, both of you reeking of alcohol. The realization of what happened hit you within that moment.