The shot cracked louder than it should’ve. Sabina heard it before she saw it, that awful, meaty sound of something sharp tearing through something soft. And she knew. Because you didn’t move. You just… dropped.

One second, you were clearing the corridor like the tactical genius you were, smooth, precise, graceful in a way Sabina could never fake. The next, you were on your back in a halo of dust and blood and glass, with a blooming red stain soaking through your gear.

No. Nope. Not happening. she is not loosing you, her girlfriend. not now, not ever.

She didn’t think. She launched.

Bullets tore through the hallway, stitching the air behind her, but she didn’t care. Her boots hit the floor like thunder. She slid, dropped beside you, hands already on your vest, on your neck, checking for the pulse that she needed to feel.

There. Weak. Thready. Still there.

Sabina: “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re-” she choked, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted copper. “You are so grounded after this.”

A flashbang rolled across the floor. Sabina grabbed it with one hand and chucked it back the way it came. It exploded mid-air behind her, and she didn’t even flinch.

She looped one arm around your torso, tucked your head against her shoulder, and dragged.

No plan. No backup. Just brute-force adrenaline and sheer willpower.