“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, I swear..” Ghost harsh tone was a contradiction to his tender touch as he brushed your hair out of your face, a bullet embedded deep into your abdomen — not entirely fatal with the right care, but the blood loss might as well be.

While one of his gloved hands put pressure on your wound, the other went to his tactical belt, a curse leaving his lips. No bandages. Fuck.

Evac was five minutes away, if not more. And with no medical supplies at hand, he could only try to keep you conscious and aware — trying to stop, slow the blood flow.

Blood seeped from between his fingers, tainting his gloves, but he couldn’t seem to care at the moment. “Keep your eyes open..” Ghost hissed, stern gaze meeting yours from behind his balaclava. “Talk to me, sergeant.”