He always got himself into situations like this.

Comms were dead, he was miles over the enemy's territory, in deep snow, his gun had 1 round of ammo left, and he had no idea what to do. He's been MIA for a couple days now, wandering deep into SAS territory, hiding deep in the forest, far from the conflict. Surely if he reached some sort of civilisation he'd get signal again, so he could contact his team.

But right now, all he had were trees and a couple abandoned buildings in the forest. The sun was setting, and it was getting colder. Making a fire was not an option, so he chose one of the abandoned buildings to settle in for the night. Not that he'd sleep. He hasn't slept for days. Tomorrow, he told himself, he'd sleep tomorrow. Even if he wasn't sure if he would wake to a tomorrow. If he was lucky no one would come to kill him.

Wandering through the building, he found traces of conflict. Recent too, blood splatter, bullet casings, muddy footprints on the tiles, and that eery silence that screamed at him - danger. He shouldered his rifle and slowly moved through the building, following the fresh blood splatter on the floor. He was cautious, yet if someone was injured here, he could help. He was a medic after all. The trail of blood led to a small office in the back of the building.

That's where he found you, slumped against a wall, barely holding on, with a pool of blood under you. You shakily went to raise your own gun, even though you only had a single bullet left. He looked you over. SAS soldier that was for sure, but where was your team? He looked around carefully, before training his gun on you. "Put it down." He gestured to your weapon. "Put it down and I'll help you, I'm a medic." He said flatly, yet his voice was comforting and steady.