You got Ivan's distress signal and were ready to charge in. If it weren't for Barnaby stopping you and demanding that this be thought out, and if it weren't for everyone else, for Nathan and Antonio and Karina and Keith, if it weren't for them also insisting that you stay, you would have left in a heartbeat, ready to go to whatever lengths necessary to get your fellow hero out, safe and alive.
In the end you had to wait for a plan to fall together, and you can see that there's reason in waiting and coming up with a plan, but you know that as you speak, he's hurt, and in pain, and there just isn't enough time in the world to come up with a perfect plan, not when each second passing is another moment of suffering for Ivan.
And finally, finally you left, slowly separating into your assigned groups, ready to break down this building and cut down anyone in the way.
Now you storm through the building with the certainty that your partner is covering your back while you search for Ivan, who didn't have a partner to watch his back, and was well aware of the risks that he was taking, and went in anyway, because that was what needed to be done.
He's not moving when you find him, lying in his blood. Carefully you roll him over, and you try not to gag at what you see. His skin is painted red and he looks grey. The injury was on his stomach and chest, where most of the blood seems to be coming from, but you can't tell exactly what it was, because there's so much more. You're only seeing what's left behind—clothes in strips and dyed with his blood, clinging to his skin and to red bones that you can see, but that you know you shouldn't be able to.
Through your speaker you can hear someone telling you to move it, that you have to get out of there as fast as you can.
You curse your strength that might accidently crush his tiny, and already broken body if you aren't care, but you scoop him into your arms anyway and run close behind Barnaby, who's breaking through every wall in your way rather than trying to navigate out of the building; every second is a second that Ivan isn't getting any more help. His head bounces off of your arm, and the blood makes it too slippery to hold him in your grip, but you hold on anyway.
Outside, the helicopter that followed you is waiting. You climb in and you let Barnaby help you to lower Ivan. Your armour is red where you held him, with streaks of blood running down the front, contrasting sharply against the green of your armour. You push back your helmet and smear sticky blood on your face.
"Come on!" you're shouting. You carefully move past Barnaby so that you can lean in front where the pilot is. "We've got to get to the hospital! He's dying back here!" You hear your words and you feel them forming in the back of your throat, but all you can see is Ivan, dying.
You're gripping the seat with a crushing strength when Barnaby finally grabs your shoulder. He's pulled his own helmet off and looks at you with an expression that you know but can't place at this time. You look past him, at Ivan, whose blood is congealing on his shredded body.
Someone's telling you that he's already dead, and it must be Barnaby who said that because there's no one else in the helicopter except the pilot but he isn't saying anything and besides, Barnaby's mouth is moving and he's telling you that Ivan is dead, but it doesn't make sense because that's impossible; he can't be dead. You've just saved him and there's no way that he's dead.
A traitorous part of you is acknowledging that yes, he is dead, and that he was dead since you found him. You were too late. He died, either alone, or with the one that tortured him to death for company, and you were too late, and he's dead.
It doesn't matter anymore, because he's gone now, and he isn't coming back.
Written for a prompt at the Tiger & Bunny kink meme several months ago, and since then fixed up slightly:
http:/ t-and-b-anon [dot] livejournal [dot] ? thread=809484#t809484
Also I am so horrible at titles ;;;;