“Let me see it—“ Nate tries to help you with your wound—the wound he feels he could’ve prevented. You jerk your arm away from him, glaring right through him.

You’ve been Nate’s work partner since Sam was left in the Panamian Jail. You consoled him as he grieved his brother’s death.

You did everything for him, just for you to end up hurt because of him. He had somewhat forced you to go on this expedition with him, saying he wanted you to experience this with him.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve shot him before he shot you.” He sighs, his shoulders slumping backwards.