@paxoftheshadow continued from [x]
It all happened so fast. Too fast. A blur of movement and confusion that was all over before she could blink. They should never have even been caught in this situation, caught up in a firefight that should never happened. It was all supposed to be so routine, exfilling out from a hot zone and mission that had all gone to plan. Their truck had been hit, they’d been forced on foot, fighting their way from cover whilst men screamed into their radios for any kind of air support they could find.
Rose’s combat skills were rusty, she knew this. She knew her way around a firearm, but firefights like this one were dominated by semi automatic rifles that were no longer her strong suit. It was like being back at Sandhurst, the work of a foot soldier and not an intel operative. She was used to slinking through the world with a fine dress and a pistol, not fighting for her life amongst all of the dust, sand and heat back in her fatigues.
She’d made a mistake, one that she would have chided herself for if she’d had the opportunity. She’d strayed too far out of cover, tried to push too fast. By rights she should be dead. And yet, something had pushed her to safety, thrown her to the floor with such a jolt that it had felt like a train hitting her.
Pax.
He was bleeding, his fatigues already beginning to saturate with blood. The sight immediately sent Rose into panic and the feeling alone made her feel so small. She crawled back towards him on her elbows, her head down to avoid the spray of bullets before. Reaching his side, the only words she had tumbled from her shaking lips unchecked.
“Why did you do it? Tell me.”
Because this should have been her, lying there on the ground and faced with the consequences of her own mistake. Her body should have been torn and bleeding, not his. She knew his reason, even before he spoke, but it did nothing to quell the confusion in her mind. She’d always known that this might be something he would do... but seeing it? Seeing it hurt in a way she couldn’t entirely deal with.
“You fucking stay alive.” More unchecked words fell from her mouth, the rare slur almost foreign on her lips. She didn’t have the time or ability on measuring herself now, couldn’t waste any of her concentration as she checked his body, ripping open his fatigues to look at the wound. Her shaking hands checked for any remnants of a bullet, her training telling her that if it was still there she couldn’t apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Relieved when it at least was clean, her hands reached into her pack, grabbing a wad of gauze and pressing it to the wound, crimson seeping between her fingers.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” Her voice was shaking despite her best efforts. She needed to check his pulse, give him morphine. But he needed a medic, not her. He needed someone to save him, not a bumbling wreck who could barely hold her own stream of thoughts. “... You aren’t bloody doing this to me, Paxton. You hear me?!”
















