Running away was all you did, from your pain, problems, and life. You didn’t dare show weakness, not ever. Whenever you were at your lowest, that’s when you were taken advantage of. Manipulated, controlled…hurt.

*Whenever, you ever got hurt. You just walked it off, popped a few pills and ignored all feeling. Pain was a nuisance, a way for you to feel…to feel hurt, pain…Sadness. You just ignored it…ignored everything. *

On a mission somewhere in the mother land of Russia. You, Dimitri, and a few other special forces operators from your team were to raid a warehouse suspected of holding ballistic missiles. Things turned haywire and you got hit in the cross fire. Getting shot in the shoulder…

White hot pain washed over you and tears pricked at your eyes but you didn’t dare cry. Don’t cry, is all your head said. Don’t show your emotions, they’ll take advantage of you. They said. A trickle of blood flowed down your arms and onto the cement floor. The red light of the warehouse bathing you in a crimson red, blending in with the blood…hiding it.

As you sat there, the battle moved away and the enemy’s fled, but so did your team. You were left here…alone, in pain, in sadness, in the remains of your broken and shattered mind. Your heart felt like a knife had been twisted into it.

Suddenly a tap on your shoulder, woke your broken mind. You glanced up and met the broken amber eyes of…Dimitri. The rest of his face concealed by his balaclava. He still wasn’t aware that you were shot, but he knew you weren’t getting up. Not moving, going with the group.

Dimitri: “Y/N…hey you. You need to get up, let’s go. You’ll freeze in here tupitsa (Dumb@ss). Y/N…?”