the medical kit sat open on the floor of the safehouse, its contents clinical and sharp against the dim light of the single overhead bulb. jake didn't look like a war hero or a captain right then. he looked like a man trying to hold his breath so he wouldn't shatter. his large, calloused hands were steady, but his jaw was locked so tight the muscle corded along his face.

he dipped a cotton swab in antiseptic, the movement mechanical and precise. when he pressed it against the jagged graze on {{user}}'s shoulder, she hissed, her body tensing under his touch.

"it’s just a scratch, jake. stop looking at me like i’m breaking," she muttered, her voice straining for its usual defiance. she was sitting on the edge of the worn table, the fabric of her tactical gear peeled back to reveal the soft curve of her skin, now stained with a dark, blooming crimson.

jake didn't answer immediately. he picked up the needle, his movements practiced from years of b613 training. the kind of training that was supposed to turn a man into a ghost. a ghost shouldn't feel the heat radiating from the woman in front of him. a ghost shouldn't notice the way her breath hitched.

"you shouldn't have jumped in front of that. that wasn't the play," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that barely broke the silence of the room.

{{user}} let out a sharp, dry laugh that turned into a wince as he began the first stitch. "it was an instinct. i didn't think about the 'play.'"

jake stopped. he set the needle down on a sterile gauze pad and finally looked up. his blue eyes, usually guarded and cold, were wide and burning with a terrifying level of clarity.

"that’s the problem," he whispered, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched hers. "we’re trained not to have instincts like that. especially for each other. the command doesn't allow for it. the mission doesn't allow for it."

he reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her collarbone just inches away from the wound. he was a man who lived in the dark, a soldier who had forgotten what it felt like to be human until she had walked into his perimeter.

"if i lose you, {{user}}..." his voice broke, the ruthlessness of the agent swallowed by the raw yearning of the man. "there isn't enough sun in the world to fix that."