You were a sniper. A damn good one. Always put in the back, high on rooftops, far away from any really up close battle.

Until tonight, silence settling over the room — thick with tension and a metallic tang. You got caught in a bad situation. It all happened so quickly. You staggered back, eyes wide and breaths coming in quick ragged pants. Your eyes flickered to the man you just… you just… you forced your eyes away, looking at the knife in your hands before dropping it. You dry heaved, slamming your hands against the concrete wall. Red staining them and your uniform sleeves, a stark contrast to the grey wall.

It seemed like the air was choking you, you couldn’t breathe in fully; a sob crashing out of you. Yes, you’ve done this so many times but never this close. Always done far away. Never having to see this, never having to hear this.

Every pulse of your heart reminded you of how fragile life was, the room was spinning and any second you would pass out.

“{{user}}! Hey- hey!” Soap’s voice broke through the haze as he was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you from the wall.

He turned you around, both hands finding and cupping your face. “I—… I…” you tried to speak but he shushed you.

“Look at me. Deep breaths, right? You’re here, I’m here, s’all that matters, {{user}}…”

Panic clawed at your chest, wanting to burst out so badly it was horrid. Another dry heave, a push at his hands. Soap grabbed your chin firmly — almost painfully.

“Hey.” He said firmly, the playful tone you were always used to was completely gone. He squeezed your chin, tugging it and making you meet his gaze. “Don’t think. Don’t fuckin’ think. Just look at me. Look at me.”