“God… fucking damnit!”

Zaeed couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t recognized the bounty he’d been hunting for the past week, due to the helmet they wore. Well, that was off now. And the face was the last one he ever wanted to see.

Them. The person who had six men hold him down, the person who held a gun to his head and shot him in the eye, left him to die. He couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe they had survived the fire he left them to burn in. He supposed that made them even. It didn’t feel very even.

He held them against the wall, unsure what to even say at this point. He hated that their face was the one that greeted him. Hated that he worried about the bruises, the scars he’d put there himself. He used to protect this person. Used to do anything to keep them safe, but now -- now what? After they betrayed him, how was he supposed to act? To function? He died when that bullet hit him. He hadn’t lived since he lived for them.