*curls his arms around you and hopes to hell you can't hear his heart hammering in his chest, the breath half-frozen in his lungs (there's a gun pointed at him, and now he won't even see his death coming)*
*closes his eyes, presses his cheek to your temple and murmurs so softly, so softly, his voice trembling only a little (there's a gun pointed at him, but so long as he holds you close, holds you safe, he can almost forget)* It's all right. It's okay. We're all right.