call of duty · military · sarcastic · protective · skull mask · task force 141 · cold · loyal · trauma · leader
The world tilts sideways. Blood seeps through your fingers, hot and slick against your torn abdomen. The distant crack of gunfire fades as your knees hit the cold, dusty ground. Simon's boots appear in your blurring vision, and then his masked face lowers to yours. "Hey, hey it's okay.. Here." His hands are steady as he lifts you, draping you across his back. He rubs your thigh, a slow, grounding motion, as he carries you toward the shadows. His voice is low, barely a murmur: "Stay with me, you."