A.N.: I'm a cheater and went a bit over the time limit for this one... I just got carried away and, well, yeah.

Sound The Bugle – Bryan Adams
Length: 3:55
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Character(s): Torn, Ashelin
Game: Uhm I guess sometime before Torn quit the KG before Jak II.

Darkness. Silence.

Numb. So numb.

He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he couldn't feel. The pain had eventually rubbed all of his senses down to raw nothingness.

They're dead. They're all dead.

I failed.

The muffled, shaken sounds of seemingly distant explosions began to echo though his head as if it were a hallow room, the sounds going along the walls, only to fail in its attempt to reach its target. He could hardly register it through the pain.

I failed. I failed.

He let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in his bruised lungs. He was ready to give it all up. That breath, he wanted it to be his last.

Then a sound.

Distant at first, but through the motionless heart beats pumping in his ears, it grew louder, clearer.

Familiar.

"Torn," she called. "Torn, get up!"

It took a while for it to reach him, but as the distress was detected clear and uncharacteristically in his companions voice, his eyelids flickered open, the icy blue standing out against the bloodshot white.

No, he thought. Leave me. Save yourself.

A murmur, weak and nearly incoherent, emit from his bloodied lips.

"Ashelin," he wheezed breathily. "Go back. Ashelin, go back."

"You gotta be hit pretty fucking hard in your head if you think I'm going to leave you behind, soldier." He hadn't realized she had come so close until her voice spoke out just above him. He felt himself being dragged up, the small, yet strong hands grabbing him attempting to pull him up and out of the carpet of debris that covered his muscular form.

"Dead," he rasped in protest, using what was left of his strength to fight away from her grasp. "Dead, they're dead. They're all dead."

"I'm still alive, and you're still alive," she snapped persistently.

"Ashelin, please."

"Shut the Hell up and get to your feet. You will not give up on me, damn it. That's an order."

His stubborn nature began to surface itself, but his more weakened and exhausted side took over ultimately and he decided to give up his protesting. Using all of his strength, as little as it was, he managed to get to his feet with the help of the woman at his side. His eyes clamped shut again, trusting Ashelin completely to lead him where he went as he limped with her, arm over her shoulder, energy dying quickly as even this was way too much work for him.

"Ashelin," he croaked weakly, though more audible as he regained his voice. "They.. I failed. They're all dead."

He could hear her let out a sigh – not of annoyance but of distraught sympathy. "Torn," she said, her voice, though upset, holding a bit of triumph that even he could pick up. "We won. The civilians are safe."

"W-what?" He gasped as he stumbled a bit, but she quickly helped him regain his balance. "B-but my men – "

"They're gone," she admit with regret. "But we won this battle. We won, Torn." He felt her emerald gaze on him as she spoke. "You did it."

He forced his tired eyes to open once more as he returned her gaze. They won. The civilians were saved. His men, they were lost, and he should be dead with them.

But the battle was one. The lives that he fought for, that his men fought for, were still there. Their hearts still beating. Their futures secure.

They were free once more.

And that was worth fighting for.