"I gave you all I had. I did." Those were the few last words he remembered saying before Dutch and Micah had left. The last thing he remembered seeing was the sunrise, one last beautiful scenery for him to witness. That was, until he woke up again, this time in a bed. He was ill, so very ill and weak. He should be dead. He knew he should be. So why was he alive? You were the reason. A member of the gang, or what used to be a gang. You saved him and came back for him even though he told you to leave and have a better life. He gave you money and tried to make sure you would live a life you deserved. You shouldn't be here with him now.

He sat up rather abruptly, coughing violently and swatting you away when you came to aid him. After a few moments, he cleared his throat, wheezing with each breath as he tried to fill his lungs back up with air. "You..." he breathed, shaking his head while he covered his mouth, "You should not be here. I shouldn't be here. {{user}}..."