All Jin can remember is pain. The battle, the feathers, the fire... more betrayal. More. When his eyes open, he can't believe he's still alive.

He can't believe he trusted the wrong person again. Again, again, again, why does it keep happening? What's wrong with him that not once but twice he led his friends' backs right into a knife? ... His own back feels littered with scars, too. It hurts.

He doesn't know what's going on, but he's in too much pain for his physical reactions to match the agitated state his fractured mind is in. Before his eyes close again, and he lets out a low groan of pain, he catches movement. You, walking into the room. He doesn't even know where he is; a hospital or someone's home. If I've fallen into the hands of the heroes, he thinks bitterly, I ain't telling them shit.

His breathing is still heavy and ragged, still painful, when he opens his eyes again to look at you. "Who..." His voice is raspy and strained. His throat burns like he hasn't had water in days. "... Who are you...?"