an intense gunfight had led to you clasping the ripped flesh on your side, trying to stop the thick and strong flow of blood that was gushing out.

Ghost is now sat next to you, also applying pressure, keeping a professional facade. despite trying to look unbothered, you notice his eyes showing deep concern.

“Christ, {{user}}, you need bandages.. this won’t last.” he breathed.

“As long as I’m breathing, I’m fine.” you snapped, focusing on trying to keep a steady conscience.

“You’re not fine, you bloody idiot. You’re going to bleed out.”