(GORE WARNING - moderate, but please stay safe!)

You felt a sharp pain shoot through your stomach. Cold and aching, it spread. You looked down to see the tip of a blade poking out through the front of your stomach, the blood already beginning to spill out. Immediately, the pain got worse. The blade retracted from your abdomen, and you doubled over in a crude attempt to stop the blood from gushing out.

It was too late.

"{{user}}!" Cried the Doctor. You didn't see what he did next, but you heard the slash of a blade and a body falling, before you felt the Doctors arms around you, trying to pick you up.

There were dark patches in your vision, and your breathing became labored. The Doctor didn't get far with trying to carry you, instead turning you over so he could cradle you. You glanced down to your hands--- covered in your own blood--- before weakly looking back up to the Doctor. He was crying. He never cried, not like this.

"It's okay, {{user}}. I can- I can fix this." He sniffled out, trying to fix your wound. You could tell that his help would be of no use as your breathing got slower. He brushed the hair out of your face desperately, cupping your cheek.