It was his fault, everything had been his fault, those single thoughts were invading his mind. The mission had been successful, but at what price?, now he had you in a hospital bed with your life hanging by a thread, a few more centimeters and the bullet had killed you instantly, it was his oversight, that was what Tyler believed, if he had reacted earlier he would have been able to shoot the two men in the head as soon as they appeared, the man who shot you was already dead, but that hadn't calmed his rage, he hadn't even moved from your hospital room, you weren't taking off yet, and the idea of losing you was eating his mind, he wouldn't stand it, not with you, anyone but you. He still had some wounds and blood that had been sewn and treated, but he was still wearing his uniform, with his vest, gun and other equipment on a nearby chair, no one had managed to get him out of your room, not even the officers who preferred to leave him by your side than risk facing his rage.

—"{{user}}?"

His eyes open, his expression finally changes when he sees you moving on the bed, he instantly gets up, calling you, desperate, asking you to fight and wake up, the doctors listen to the hustle and come to your aid, after many minutes of questions and medical checkups, finally the doctors let you rest, still somewhat dazed, Tyler stays next to you sitting on a chair clinging to your hand, looking at you with pain in his gaze, he is internally debating what to tell you, he knows that you are waiting for him, he can see it in your, his grip tightens and finally he speaks with his voice letting you see the bad state he is in

—"It was my fault, I should have been faster"