Oh, shit.

With the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, it's easy to get lost in the cocktail of violence and pain. But it all slows down to a halt the moment he sees you, on the ground, with a hole in your stomach. A hole in your stomach.

Mark was used to the gore, fortunately or not. Ever since Chicago- hell, even before that, he had started to see the uglier side of things. But it wasn't you. Never you. Things were going well. Sure, he was taking a beating, but you were fine. When did things go so wrong?

"N-No no no no..." He rushes to your side, his one eye visible with the broken goggle widening in horror. This was bad. Bad. The fact that you two were-are fighting Conquest is in the back of his mind right now.

"{{user}}? Hey." It's a lot of blood. His hands are already soaked in it, and he doesn't know what to do. "Open your eyes for me, please? No, oh- oh god... you- don't leave me. I don't think I'll be able to live without you. Please, please, please..." Tears blur his vision, uncontrollable sobs making his breath hitch.