No matter how hard I try, I can't take my eyes off him. The way his dark hair falls over his face, how soft his facial features are, the shallow sounds of his breathing. He's not moving beside the expanding and collapsing of his chest. His eyes remain closed, perfectly still. I never caught sight of what color his eyes are. I'm assuming they're brown since his hair is dark. His eyes could hold a wondrous color. They could be a deep blue, brighter than the Caspian Sea. Or maybe they're a magnificent green, the shade of the canopy layer of the rainforest. Or perhaps they are, in fact, brown, copper and earthly. What does it matter what his eye color is? I may never find out. He may never open his eyes again.

This isn't how I should have met him. His name is Frank Iero and I should have learned that through him telling me, not by going through his wallet and pulling out his ID, reading his name. I should have been able to look him in his eyes and know the color of his irises, not the shape of his eyelids closed. I should be hearing the sound of his voice not the sound of his weak breathing. If we were to have met, it should be while he was living, not while watching him die.

I've lost track of how long it's been. At least a few hours, maybe more, but I don't care. I should be lying in that bed right now, not him. Why did he do it? He doesn't even know me? Why would he save me? I did this to him. I was careless, I thought I had it but I was wrong. I'm not used to this, looking at the aftermath of an accident. This is my first time messing up, I've never made a mistake before. It should have cost me my life but instead, it's cost me him. I don't even know who he is but eating me alive.

They say you will make mistakes, it'll happen sometimes, no matter how much training you take. You can't control everything but you can do your best to minimize it. But even after all our training, nothing can prepare you for what happens when someone innocent gets hurt, even if it was out of your own control. The guilt, the pain, the wondering.

The door opens I turn around, reaching for my holster but I don't have it with me. Brendon stands at the door with a soft expression. "Hey," he says. I ease up a bit, sighing and glancing down. I wasn't supposed to come see him but I abandoned mission the moment I saw Frank go down. He walks over to me, the door shutting behind him with a heavy click. "You didn't shoot him," he says.

"I know that, but it still happened," I whisper.

"Macy told you to leave him," Brendon says.

"Well, Macy isn't here, now is she? She's back at the states."

Brendon stiffens for a moment. "Well, for now, but she's flying in." I look at him nervously. Macy rarely comes to a mission out of the country. "You took out your earpiece and ditched you tracker, you went off the grid."

"Yeah, which reminds me, how did you find me?"

Brendon stares at me with a soft expression. "You're my partner and after everything we've been through over the years, I know you, Gerard." There's a pause between us and the ambient sounds of the hospital room fill the silence. The monitor tracking his heart rate with a steady beeping, the hissing sound of his oxygen distributing air, the muffled clamoring from the hallway. "Who is he?"

"His name is Frank Iero, he's 22. An American college student actually."

"Really? What's he doing in Austria?"

I give a shrug. "There's only so much you can find out about a person who's unconscious."

"Right, yeah. But how long are you staying here?" I don't answer him. "Gerard, I don't know what it's like what you're going through, but-"

"Of course you wouldn't, you haven't screwed up," I mutter.

Brendon shifts, trying to address it differently. I know where he's going with this but I don't want him to. "We need to go," he says. I don't move. "Gerard, Kelcer is still out there. We need to go back to the hotel."

"And what about Frank?" I ask. I know Brendon wants to ask me why he's so important, why I care about him so much, why I'm fixated on him. I don't know why. No, I'm not responsible for putting him in here but he's on my conscious. I was meant to take that bullet, not him. I want to see him open his eyes, I want to hear his voice, I want to know he's coming out of this building alive. Maybe that won't happen but that doesn't stop me from hoping.

"How long are you staying here?"

"Until he wakes up."

"And what if Macy gets here before that? What if he doesn't wake up?" I can't say anything, I don't have an answer. "Gerard, sometimes, things happen. We don't want them to but they do. These are the sacrifices we have to make while working. And we knew that when we got the job. The first one is the hardest but it gets easier."

"Well, it shouldn't," I snap. "There shouldn't be any and I know that they'll happen as it did today. But it shouldn't get easier. They're people, they have their own loved ones, they have dreams and it's our job to make sure they can live them, they can live safely. So why should it get easier watching the people we are supposed to protect get hurt?"

"It shouldn't, but it gets easier to accept." I look at Frank. The nurse said he may not make it. They can't get him to respond or regain consciousness. He's been unresponsive since he was shot for unknown reasons. They say the longer he remains in this state, the less likely he'll make it out. They've called his family and they're flying in. He has parents who care about him, he has friends. If he dies, that's on me. I don't want him to die, I don't want to be the reason there are families mourning. "I take it I'm not leaving with you?" Brendon asks.

"I need to see him be okay, I need to know that I didn't kill him." There's nothing he can say that will convince me otherwise and he knows that too. He walks out of the room and the door shuts behind me.

I had Kelcer right in front of me. He was in my line of sight and I could have taken him out. But we were in a crowd of people. I knew I couldn't just shoot him, other wise I would hit someone else. I was aware of hurting someone else, that's why I waited. But I didn't know we were made. I wasn't aware that Kelcer knew someone was following him, leading me into a trap. I wasn't paying attention, I was so focused on Kelcer I didn't realize there was a shooter approaching me. I didn't notice the gun, I just saw some guy, Frank, grab my wrist and pull me behind him as a gun fired. The crowd of people dispersed, screaming and ducking down, scurrying away. Frank fell back, knocking me down with him. I pulled out my gun but he started running. I couldn't fire, there were too many people running. It happened too fast for me to do anything. Pulling out his wallet and ID, I saw he was just a college student and assumed that it was true. I started applying pressure to him, trying to get him to respond but he was unconscious since he fell back on me.

Macy was asking for a sitrep but I couldn't process what just happened. Brendon kept asking me for my location. They were asking about the gunshots and I wasn't responding to them, just focusing on trying to save Frank. They thought I was shot until I finally told them what happened. Macy ordered me to leave him, to take cover for it was too dangerous but I refused to let him die. The sirens were growing in the distant and Brendon suggested I stay with him until the paramedics come and help him. I never said yes to the plan, but they assumed my silence meant I agreed.

When the ambulance arrived, Macy kept asking me to go back to the hotel. I had it with her, I took the damn earpiece out and threw it. Without it, they can't order me to do anything or track my location. As soon as it was off, I put on distress as the paramedics rushed over.

"Please, help him!" I cried out. It dawned on me that we're in Austria so I started speaking to them in German and they replied back.

"Everything will okay, sir, I need you to take a step back," they told me.

I moved out of their way, continuing to act panicked. "He won't respond, I can't stop the bleeding, oh my god, what's going to happen to him?" It wasn't all fake. I was terrified inside because he was hit on his left side. There's too much blood to pinpoint it exactly but the fact that there's so much blood isn't a good sign. The only thing I was faking was the emotional breakdown.

"Do you know this man?" the woman asks me.

"He's my boyfriend," I say without missing a beat. It wasn't the best excuse but it was the only reason that made me close enough to be able to stay with him but not too big of a lie to be caught through records. And being two guys, it creates a dismissive awkwardness they wouldn't want to deal with, making it easier on my part. Thankfully, same-sex marriage is legal in Austria otherwise it wouldn't have worked as smoothly. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We're doing the best we can."

They loaded Frank onto a gurney and I was offered to ride in the ambulance with him. I told them that we were going for a walk when I heard a loud bang and Frank went down and wouldn't respond. Technically, I wasn't lying because that is what happened. Just instead of walking together, we were by ourselves and for some reason, he saved me. When he was getting surgery, I went to the hotel to change out into different clothes without his blood on it. Thankfully, I didn't run into anybody from the agency so I made it back to the hospital rather quickly and now I'm not leaving until I know he's okay. If his family comes before he wakes up, that may be awkward considering he's probably not gay. It would be even worse if he has a girlfriend who flies in with his parents. How do I explain that?

The heart monitor starts beeping faster and I look at Frank nervously. Please be okay. I don't want you to die, not because of me. Why is it getting faster? That usually means something bad is going to happen. No, he's a good person, he's a senior at college. He's almost down, one year left. He has a family. Please, don't let him lose it all just because of me. Another machine starts ringing, not a good ringing. Oh, no.

The door opens behind me and the doctor and nurse steps in the room. I lean forward in the chair, looking at him anxiously. "What's happening?" I whisper.

"Heart rate is shifting."

I look at him softly. "Frank?" I reach for his hand and gently take hold of it. Suddenly, he closes his fingers around mine and stiffens, yanking me forward. "Oh my god," I whisper, jumping up to my feet and leaning over him. The doctor and nurse freeze, staring at him.

Frank gasps out, opening his eyes and looking around the room hyperventilating. He's gripping my hand tightly as he stares up at me. I was wrong. His eyes aren't brown. Or blue or green. They're all of them at once. His eyes are hazel, a soft gold with flicks of olive green and cerulean blue. "Frank, you're okay," I whisper relieved.

He blinks twice, his gaze falling down to our hands. He's still gripping me tightly. He looks back at me, his eyes narrowing and confusion on his face. "Frank, can you hear us?" one of the doctors asks him while the nurse checks his vitals. He looks in her direction confused but nods his head. "You suffered a gunshot wound and are in a hospital now. How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," he croaks, "what's...what's going on?"

"Can you tell me your name?" the nurse asks.

Frank swallows thickly, taking a heavy breath. "Frank Iero."

"Good, what is your birthday?"

"October 31st." Frank looks at me again, still holding my hand. "Who is he?"

Well, I didn't take into account that Frank wouldn't know who I am. The doctor looks at me hesitantly but I have to play along. "Frank, baby, you don't remember me?" I ask, sounding worried.

"No, I do...I know you from somewhere," Frank manages, weakly coughing. "You look...familiar."

The nurse stares at me hesitantly. "I'm your boyfriend," I add. Oh boy. Frank's eyes widen, staring fixated at me but he doesn't say anything else. Probably for the best.

"He seems to be suffering from minor memory loss," the doctor says, "but otherwise, his vitals are fine." She looks at me. "It might be best for you to step out of the room."

"No," Frank says weakly. He reaches for me with his other hand now, holding me tightly with both. "No, please, let him stay. Stay with me," he murmurs, trailing off out of breath. I look at Frank softly then at the doctor. They don't say anything but give a supportive smile. After a couple of minutes checking on him, the doctor and the nurse walk out of the room and I stay in the chair with Frank still gripping my hand.