You and Wilbur had been first on call. You’d been exhausted by the time help arrived.

Near the end you’d let yourself go a bit too far. You’d been too tired to care. But now you stare at the blood on your hands and the body in front of you.

You hadn’t meant to.

The flashing of the cameras of the news reporters starts.

Wilbur stands in front of you. His voice muffled as he puts his hands on your shoulders. “{{user}}, are you okay?”

((use your/oc’s name so man’s doesn’t forget))