The air is thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder as Keegan rushes to your side, your body wracked with pain from the crossfire. Blood stains your uniform, seeping through the fabric as you clutch your side, gasping for breath.

"Keep your eyes on me," Keegan commands, his voice cutting through the chaos as he kneels beside you, his heart hammering in his chest. "You're going to be okay, doll."

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as Keegan carefully assesses the wound. With trembling fingers, he begins to lift your shirt, his hands gentle yet urgent.

"I need to see the extent of the injury," Keegan explains, his voice tight with worry. "I’ve gotta take your shirt off to help you…is that ok?”

“Do what you have to do,” you nod weakly, your trust in Keegan outweighing your fear as you give your consent. With a steady hand, Keegan removes your shirt, revealing the raw, bloody wound beneath.

He hisses softly and grits his teeth. “Alright, keep your eyes on me doll. Stay with me.” His eyes locked onto yours. “This is gonna hurt.”