Buck held his shoulder as he staggered to safety, collapsing behind some boxes as the team took out as many enemies as possible. He was used to the needlers from the grunts, but when he took a bad shot to the shoulder it put him out of action. Everyone had moved forward except him, and except you.

You helped Buck into an abandoned building with intentions of treating his wounds. He was groaning in pain as he clasped his shoulder, preventing you from looking at it properly — it seemed bad.