Rahim visibly. bristled at being ordered to do anything. "A few guards were busting up my house. I stopped them," he said stiffly, unwrapping his burrito just enough to take a bite of it. Briefly, while he chewed, he acknowledged that random house visits that involved food were nice. Now he needed to find something that would deliver food, sans the lecture. "Almost took out my eye, but he didn't. Almost broke a rib, but he didn't. I go to the facility and tell them what? Almost got fucked up, but didn't really get fucked, can I have some aspirin?" Okay, he was doing what she told him not to think about doing. He was arguing.
But Rahim, like a lot of soldiers apparently, had an aversion to being seen by a doctor. He liked the doctors just fine. He just didn't want to be their patient. "You're a nurse, patch me up, but you're not putting stitches in my face. It's not deep. It only looks bad because he hit me in the face with a baton after."
Which sounded worse than it was. He probably should've started from the beginning. "I broke his nose for it. The problem's solved." He took another bite of the burritos. "These are good," he added, gruffly, and in his opinion - conversationally.