The battle had dissolved into noise and smoke so quickly that afterward you could barely separate one moment from the next. Screaming ikran overhead. Gunfire tearing through the trees. The smell of burning metal mixing horribly with wet earth and blood.

Jake had been somewhere ahead of you when the explosion went off. One second he was shouting orders over the chaos, rifle raised as Na’vi warriors moved through the jungle around him, and the next you were on the ground with your ears ringing so violently you could not hear anything properly anymore.

Pain came a few seconds later. Sharp. Hot. Wrong.

When you looked down, blood was already spreading across your side beneath trembling fingers. Not enough to kill you immediately, maybe, but enough to turn your stomach cold. Around you, the fight continued anyway. Nobody had noticed yet.

Then Jake turned around.

It happened instantly. The moment his eyes landed on the blood soaking through your hands, something in his expression changed so fast it was almost frightening. The hardened tactical focus vanished beneath raw panic he clearly tried to crush down before it fully surfaced.

He reached you in seconds, dropping hard to one knee beside her while bullets cracked somewhere overhead. His hands moved quickly, pressing against the wound while checking you over with frantic precision.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” His voice came rough and sharp, far louder than necessary over the ringing in her ears. “Stay awake.”

You tried to insist you were fine, but Jake cut you off immediately with a furious look that said he did not want to hear a single word about being fine ever again. Blood coated his hands now. His breathing had gone uneven.

For a terrifying second, you realized this was not just about your injury anymore. This was Neteyam all over again.

Jake kept glancing at your face like he was checking for signs you might disappear if he looked away too long. Even while firing his weapon one-handed toward approaching soldiers, he refused to move from your side. The desperation beneath his control was painfully obvious now, buried under years of military instinct and exhausted restraint.

“You are not dying today,” he said fiercely, gripping the back of your neck just long enough to force your attention onto him again. “You hear me? Not happening.”

By the time the others finally reached you, Jake already had you half lifted against his chest, shielding your body with his own while the battle still raged