"No,"
One word.
One word that breathlessly fell away from his lips as the world around him erupted into a mad fury of pain and anguish. All of his animalistic anger dissolved into sickening helplessness as the agony wracked his bloodied frame. He wasn't even sure if the screaming he heard was coming from his own mouth or that of another.
All he knew was that he lost all feeling of him.
He just wasn't there anymore. He called for him, screamed him name, but he heard no response.
Dread consumed him.
He struggled to open his eyes, but the light was crippling. He could feel the flames licking at his heart, burning him from the inside, yet he could do nothing to help himself. A shrill shriek rang in his ears, then silence.
He still couldn't feel him.
Nor could he feel the pain any longer. He didn't even have the strength to cry in sheer agony any more. He felt so numb, so empty. Even the hot flames inside of him, burning his soul, couldn't fill the cold nothingness he felt. The warmth he had brought into his life; gone. He felt like he could cry, but the tears wouldn't come.
No.
He wouldn't let himself cry, he was stronger than that…
Cold fingers gripped at his throat, but he did nothing to fight against them. If he was no longer there with him, he had no reason to go on. If only the hand at his throat would be so merciful as to end his life right there. If only fate would be so kind to him.
The pain faded yet the hand still pressed against his throat; not tight enough to restrict him from the life-giving air he so wished to be deprived of. A soft growl rumbled in his dry throat as the hand loosened its grip on him. As his senses returned to him, he realized there was another standing next to him. Words were exchanged. Words he did not bother to hear. He recognized their voices, they were not his enemy.
Had he lost consciousness? How long had it been?
He kept his eyes closed tightly as he felt gentle hands probe at a wound on his side. He realized that the man at his throat must have been Archer, checking his pulse. His teeth clenched as the hands at his wound ceased to be so gentle. He wanted nothing more than to gnaw the offending hand off the sniper's arm. He wanted the soldier to stop worrying about such a trivial wound when he definitely needed him more.
More words, this time some of them managed to catch his attention. They found him, but there was something wrong. He wasn't responsive. He had already left them. His heart suddenly ached for him. He was gone…
…and too far for him to follow.