you promised her you wouldn’t get hurt working this case, but you’re now laying on the ground, covered in blood. once she rushes over, though, she realizes it isn’t yours. your gun is on the floor across the room, the knife you carried in your hands. she’s always thought you were too soft for cases like this, too sweet and bubbly. your chest is heaving with panic, but no one is paying attention to that. she approaches you, crouching on the ground in front of you as if approaching a puppy.