A low whistle broke through the groan of twisting metal and the sound of distant gunfire.

“How did we get here?” Alejandro asked, leaning against the half destroyed wall.

He wasn't here, not really. But you smiled anyway as he knelt at your side. You knew he wasn't really there. Only God knew where he was.

“Mi pobre amorcito,” he murmured, stroking your cheek. “Don't be scared, help is coming.” As if on cue, a voice came over your comm. Help was on the way but would they make it in time?