Whump Prompt #1508
As he lay there in the mud, rain pelting his face and washing away the blood and ash, he couldn't help but smile.
The job was done, and he could finally rest.
Voices called his name as his vision darkened around the edges. Except they shouldn't have been - he told the team to run hours ago, just as he was gearing up to enter the base for his final fight.
However, when warm hands clamped around (what should have been) his fatal stomach wound, and another pair of hands carded through his hair and gently patted at his face to get him to open his eyes, his smile remained.













