It had been the last news he would have thought he would have been delivering to his unit before heading back to the base. But, when he suddenly found himself with an armful of sobbing Savannah, G knew it had been the right call to do this now rather than spring it on them when they got back. Casting a helpless look at the others over her head, he put his arms around her.
"I have no intentions of dying anytime soon." This was why he'd never told her about the shooting, why he'd never told her about any of the close calls or severe injuries in his past. He hadn't wanted her to worry when there was nothing to be done about the dangers. To understand the danger out there? Yes. To worry about his mortality when faced with those dangers? No. Ignoring the growing wet patch on his shirt, G just held her and let her cry. He had no promises to give her and he couldn't tell her it would be alright because he knew it wasn't alright. The sort of platitudes people usually gave for these times were empty at best.
When she pulled back, he gave her a teasing smirk. "If you stopped making fun of me, I'd have to be worried something was wrong with you."
Sighing, he shook his head. "I know, Savannah. I know. It's neither easy nor fair. And all we can really do is mourn him, remember him, and make sure his killer is brought to justice. It won't bring him back. But, it's something we can do for him."