The rain was falling softly against the window as the previous drops slowly trailed down the glass. The soldier pulled his head up softly to look as the sound of the rain had awoken him. He looked at his surroundings trying to remember where he was. He was always used to waking up surrounded by medical instruments and handlers who would instruct him on his every move. Now he was alone on a couch in a living room in an apartment. No one there telling him what to do just the soft sound of the rain. Then it hit him and he remembered now where he was. The man on the bridge, whom he knew from somewhere, brought him here. The only man who had refused to fight him. The one who found him yesterday sleeping in an ally in the cold rain. He took him to his apartment, gave him clothes to wear, made him dinner and told him he could sleep on the couch. The soldier didn't know why yet but he knew that this man was trying to help him. He was not used to this and that made him a little uneasy. But mostly he felt comfort here and he liked that feeling. He laid his head back and stared at the rain. Something he never got to do for as long as he could remember. Just to regard something beautiful and as simple as the rain, hitting a windowpane and sliding down the side of it in long slow tracks.