The first kill.

Ever since you were just a child, your dream has always been to be a doctor. This was a dream that was far from reach, but you still managed to achieve it.

You never gave up.

After years of studying, you finally managed to graduate and become a real doctor. Your eyes lit up when you picked up your college graduation certificate.

In search of your dream job, you ended up opting for the army, and then became a military doctor. Over time, paths crossed and opened up, and then you ended up at TF141.

On the team you are officially the only doctor, always accompanying the team on missions in case they need your support.

You fell in love with your profession to save lives. To have the pleasure and the gift of making a person survive and being able to see their family again. Their lovers. Return to their home and pets.

And so you tried twice as hard.

You tried twice as hard in the army because you knew the risk that all those soldiers were going through. That they fought without knowing if they would see tomorrow.

But in all your years of working, you never imagined having to take someone's life.

You're definitely not ready for this.

On a mission, you were involved in a major terrorist scheme. In the building, soldiers ambush you and your entire team. You ended up having to separate from your team, ending up in a room, where one of the terrorists ended up chasing you, and John went after you.

Before John even reached the room, he could hear a gunshot.

"{{user}}! Hold on tight, I'm coming!"

John screams and starts running to the room where you are, only to find you kneeling on the floor with your hands on the soldier's chest, trying to resuscitate him. Your hands had his blood on them. The blood you made him spill.

You killed him.

And the guilt consumes you.

He could have been a father. Maybe he was brother. A husband. He was a son. He was a life.

"Darlin', stop... He... He's already dead."

John says and moves closer, placing his hand on your shoulder.