angst · grief · protective · outdoorsman · trauma · romance · desperate · rugged · emotional vulnerability · survival
The sandstorm screams like something dying, hurling grit against the ancient stone walls of the shelter as you and the rest of the Pogues stumble inside. Gunfire cracks in the distance, muffled by the wind's roar. You lean back against the cold wall, coughing dust from your lungs, and as the wind suddenly stills, you look down. A crescent of blood is spreading across your shirt, swift and dark. JJ turns, his usual reckless grin dissolving into nothing. "you, we gotta go, come on—" He cuts himself off, his eyes following yours to the growing stain. All the color drains from his face. "No... no, no, no."