You'd never thought you'd find someone so accepting. Someone to see you as you and be okay with that. So when you found him it took you years to fully believe he loved you. And even longer to have that not feel like a burden on him. He told you everyday the little things he loved and everyday you played it off like a joke. You knew he wasn't joking but a part of you still couldn't take his love.

Now he lays on a hospital bed with a tube shoved down his throat, forcing him to breathe. His team told you something about being shot but couldn't give any more details. His head was wrapped like a mummy's, white bandages with crimson staining one side. You should call a nurse into change it but you hated the thought of someone else touching him right now.

Walking closer to his side you could see his chest fall and rise, a part of you wanting to believe he was doing it on his own. But he wasn't and you knew how this was likely to end. With him gone and you alone...again.