The bullet hit you, a hot iron pressing itself under your ribcage. There was a burning pressure that felt like eternity, then searing pain. You gasped and fell to the ground, clutching the wound. Keegan yelled your name, rushing to you. "Leave me," you told him, your breathing ragged. "Get to cover." His hands pressed your wound, trying to staunch the flow of crimson to no avail. "I won't leave you." his voice seemed solid, but there was a waver. He knew you weren't okay.