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There was a single shot and the sound of a body hitting down hard on the pavement. Turning around he saw Steve writhing out of the hard pavement; painting the grey ground a brilliant red as he continued to bleed out.
“STEVE!” He rushed over to the man, searching his body for where exactly the bullet had sunken into his skinny frame. There. Right above his diaphragm. The blood was flowing out too quickly, too much at once which could only mean that.
“Steve how are we doin’? talk to me here.” His voice already began to waver as he pressed down onto the wound, eyes searching the man’s face for any sign of life in his bright sapphire eyes. His skin had already begun to get pale and Sam’s hope that the man would make it through this was wearing thin.
Steve was dying and Sam couldn’t do anything about.
He can’t save him.
He’s not sure when he started crying. Maybe it was when he finally realized that he wouldn’t make it. Maybe it was when backup arrived mere minutes later, taking him away from Steve so they could try to revive him. Maybe it was once he noticed how much of Steve’s blood coated his hands.
Maybe it was once he noticed that he had failed him.