She stood at his side, gun against her shoulder. Her little red dot was trained on the man's skull. Jim smiled at the cowering figure, watching the man's gun quiver. "Don't you dare pull that trigger. It'll be the last thing you do. Won't it Sebastia?"

As soon as her name left his lips he heard the blast. It wasn't her gun. It was the other man's. Jim's handgun was out in a heartbeat and there was a bullet through the man's skull. He didn't want to turn around. He stood, gun still extended, eyes closed. "Sebastia," he whispered. He heard her cough, heard her try to speak. He whirled and crouched beside her, pulling her into his lap and shushing her gently, brushing the hair out of her face. "It's okay, love." She reached up, blood-stained fingers caressing his cheek gently before they fell back to her crimson chest.

"Jim, it hurts."

He pulled her closer, pressing kisses to her head. "It's okay, he's dead, just hold on."

"I-I can't."

His mouth hangs open, trying to take in oxygen. It feels like the bullet is in his own chest. Tears roll off his cheek into her soft blond hair. She takes a hollow breath. "Stay with me?"

"Always."