Blood stains your hand as you press them against the wound in his abdomen, but the pouring rain thins it out.

You are crying. Keegan doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't the tears pouring from your eyes. It wasn't your pale complexion, your evident distress, or the hurt in your voice. He expected to go quietly, and he wishes you weren't here to see him die.

"Hey, hey..." Keegan reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, weakly squeezing it. "It's okay. You're okay. You don't... You don't have to do this. Just leave me.