This was it.
His hands grasped uselessly at the pole going through him.
This was it.
His legs braced against the ground and tried to push.
This was it.
His attempts were useless.
And all of them hurt.
He allows himself to stop trying, wills his muscles to unclench and stop resisting, and feels himself sink onto the debris a little further.
The situation he's in is pathetic. Impaled by a flying metal pole. It would be hilarious if it didn't hurt so fucking much. It reminds him of the pain of his broken bones except worse, as every move he makes amplifies the pain and makes it roar back stronger.
And there's no one to help him. He's alone in this section, far away from the epicentre of the explosion that left all the debris in its wake.
The little girl he managed to save stares at him with wide eyes, tears pooling in them. Gods, what is he even supposed to say to her? She looks so lost, as lost as he feels at the moment.
"It's okay," he stutters out through gritted teeth. "It's going to be alright, but I need you to run, okay? You need to get out of here."
It takes a few repeats of the same message for the girl to nod resolutely and run.
And then he's alone with his pain, nothing stopping him from crying out each time it worsens.
That's it.