Chapter Text
After struggling like a mad man to yank out the metal rod stuck in his chest, the sergeant major noticed his vision getting all wonky. His breaths came in jagged gasps, each one feels like shot of misery. He knew if he kept wrestling with the pain, he'd bleed out right there. Despite desperately wishing for the suffering to end, he was no fool.
Closing his eyes for even a second was a death sentence; it would be game over, lights out. So, he kept at it, battling until he finally got the cursed thing loose. He tries to brush off how his arms felt like lead with each move but every motion he does sent another searing jolt of pain through him. It was so damn awful that sheer willpower was the only thing keeping him going;
He howled, loud enough to wake the dead, when the rod slid out of his chest. A trickle of blood made its way down his chin as he crumpled to his knees, the rod clattering to the ground with a hellish clang. He didn't even notice he was tearing up until it hit him. Tears streamed down his cheeks, blending with the blood coursing down his throat like some messed-up kind of smoothie.
“ Hijo de puta… “ he breathed out slowly as he calms himself down, His hands tremble as he reaches up and grabs the metal chair for support.
He carefully raises himself off the ground, each movement making him feel like he's about to collapse. He takes a few steps ahead before realizing there's no way he's getting out of here. It's only a matter of time before he drop dead.
“please… just a couple more step…. I can make it….’ he whispers to himself as he slowly trudges his way out of ruined room, leaving streaks of blood in his wake.
The hallway is full of cartel members and dead soldiers' bodies. He latches himself to the wall for support as he moves through it. His delirious mind briefly wonders for a moment how a straightforward raid mission went awry.
.
.
.
.
and then it hits him.
Alejandro.
His jaw tightens at the image of the older man; he can't believe Alejandro would abandon his unit to save Valeria. the same woman that fucked them over six years ago and was responsible for their unit’s demise.
he lets out a raspy humorless laugh, he should've expected it really, it's Alejandro for Christ's sake. they were always been in love with one another after all. he couldn’t remember the last time that Alejandro was in love with anyone after what happened with valeria.
Not even him.
Alejandro was still in love with her even after they started dating and despite some unfortunate circumstances. She fulfilled all of Alejandro's desires. She was Alejandro’s dream girlsince she was a person of strength and bravery, intelligence, and beauty. So, why the fuck did the bastard choose to be with him in the first place?
Alejandro actually lives up to his name; he shows no mercy to anyone he views as undeserving.
He toyed with him knowing full well that his sentiments were genuine, he proceeded to string him along only for him pull this shit.
Everything was goddamn a lie, he loved him to death and this is what he gets? A rod lodged in his chest and was left for dead in a building full of C4s
How fucking romantic.
He starts to chuckle, but all that came out of his mouth were violent coughs that were stained with blood. he clutched his hand to his chest and leaned against the wall, the cold concrete seeped into his skin as sweat beads on his brow. he shivered at the feeling of his blood being soaked into the old, worn floor tiles beneath him. he felt the bile rise up inside his stomach.
He really needs to vomit, but he knows that if he did, he'd definitely collapse, and he couldn't afford to do that right now because his time was running out. The only thing he could do was keep walking and hope he'd find the exit soon.
He keeps walking, his confused mind no longer comprehending where he is. The walls around him appears to alter shape but never change color. Every corridor seemed the same to him, and every corner he turned to made his mind thinks that he’s back to where he started. He seemed to be walking through a maze. But the sergeant major pushed through the delirium and kept walking.
He continued moving without stopping until someone grabbed his shoulders; when he looked up, he saw a silhouette of a figure. The world has a depressing gray hue, and he feels as though he is staring into an inconceivable nothingness. He doesn't even know what they look like anymore. His thoughts are jumbled, and the anguish is still burning him up inside like an inferno.
The person's blonde hair was the last thing he noticed before everything went dark.
—
The task was supposed to be straightforward—they would chase down the vaqueros if they ever decided to sniff around and find the package hidden beneath the rubble in the basement. Despite being brief and straightforward, Graves wasn't prepared to see a dying man leaving the building.
The man seemed as though he had more than his fair share of gruesome experience while being no more than twenty-nine years old. His body was mostly coated in blood and grime from head to toe, but his skin appeared to be fair underneath all of it.
A mexican special forces soldier
They weren't looking for some dying young soldier; they were looking for the dang crate.
"What shall we do? Should we keep him here until he dies? " Velikan grunted beside him. Graves sighs. He need to make a choice. It’s either to save this guy or risk having some pest sniff around and track the scent back to them.
“We need to take the crate back before anyone notices. It would look strange if we just left an abandoned body out here when everyone else left.” Lerch muttered from his right.
“We will have enough trouble getting our asses kicked by the vaqueros when they realized the van they saw earlier was empty. Let’s just make sure we can carry our precious cargo safely to the truck before we lose it. I doubt it will make any difference now, “ The man continued.
Graves is still unsure of what to do with the soldier approaching him; the man is clearly delirious at this point from all of the wounds he has sustained. He won't live long if he doesn't receive medical attention soon.
He returns his gaze to the younger man and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
It appears that today was the soldier's lucky day, as he is feeling like a good Samaritan.
He approaches him and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I got you," he said quietly. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about this man made him feel calm and peaceful. He almost wished there was another way he could assist him without risking catching fire.
Graves barely catches the man as he collapses into him. He has no idea whether the soldier passed out as a result of his injuries, exhaustion, or dehydration, but it didn't matter because he was unconscious anyway. After the shock wore off, he slowly stood up and hoisted the young man into a bridal carry.
He had a strong feeling that this soldier may end up saving his life one day.