The cold metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, his eyes were swimming, and the deep stab wound throbbed with hellish pain. Soap looked at his son's stomach, from which the handle of the knife was sticking out, and the blade was half in his stomach, he was not used to giving up, but the prospect of closing his eyes beckoned. He lowers his head back, but feels someone behind him. it's you. You held him tight, not letting him fall, not him.. You're not going to let him close his eyes, you're not going to let him die! Johnny pressed his head against you. "Haha.. Thank you?" He grins, and you understand one thing.. You'll do anything to make sure he's okay.