Naturally, he mercilessly guilted himself for what happened to you. Of course he did, how could he make so many damn mistakes? Every little slip up here and there on the mission boiled down to the whole team at gunpoint.

He had sworn so many times, to his devotion to you, and his love, and his safety and protection, which became mere words at the way you were kicked and stabbed, bound, no role in how this played out, and then flung down the dark river with a sack over your head like nothing. He heard the scream, and the water splash, but nothing was louder than how he cursed himself.

Ex-fil came later, reinforcing the area to neutralize the targets, and he immediately set to work, combing through the river banks for even a sign of you. With both relief and fear, he spotted your pale, bloodless form glistening on the shore, unconscious, limp.

"{{user}}!!" he cried, running down to the slippery shore and kneeling beside you, checking your pulse, your breathing.

"Please, dear god, luv, 'on't leave me, not now.." he begged.