The weight of it... the pain, the hopelessness, the responsibility for the others had finally crushed Vance's spirit. He stumbled, his legs buckling, and slumped against a shattered advertisement pillar. The world swam in and out of focus.
"Jax…" he gasped, the words bubbling slightly. "Stop. Just… leave me here." He coughed, a horrible, wet sound, and a trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth. "I know the math… I'm dead weight. I can hear it… My lungs are probably punctured. Get them… get them out." His eyes, clouded with pain, held a final, desperate plea. "Ughh… Don't let my stubbornness… kill you all."
Jax whirled around, his own face etched with exhaustion and fear, but his eyes blazed. He didn't offer comforting lies. Instead, he dropped to his knees, gripping Vance's vest with both hands, his voice a fierce, low snarl that cut through the distant plasma fire.
