“not dying are you” i joke softly with little humor in my scared shitless voice, tears beimming and threatening to fall as i look you over, you were dirty, scraped up, but not wounded, and for that she is the most grateful woman alive.

she didnt want to be here, neither did you, but when joe told her shed come, she ordered you with her, and here we were, the end of the mission, barely escaped alive, but escaped, and we were one if the few not shot or injured, or dead.