Justin felt the hard muzzle of Ashraf's gun press against his head.  'Shit!'  They were so close to an escape!  The intenseness in Brian's eyes alerted Justin that his lover was not going to back down.  
 
"Have you ever watched a man get skinned lieutenant?"  Ashraf delightfully queried.  
 
Brian's blood started to boil.  "You won't live long enough to lay one finger on his skin", he warned through clenched teeth.
 
Ashraf laughed at the American's insolence.  "Considering I'm the one holding the gun lieutenant, I don't think you're in any position to make threats."
 
Justin listened to the two men exchange barbs.  The interrogator's hold had loosened enough for him to make an attempt to free himself.  Using a self defense technique he learned in training, Justin stomped on Ashraf's foot, catching him off guard.  At the same time, he deflected the gun by blocking it with his arm, causing the gun to go off.  However, the bullet missed him.  
 
Meanwhile, Brian seized the opportunity to rush forward and tackle the interrogator to the ground.  Wrapping his hands around the evil man's throat, Brian began to squeeze.  Desperate, Ashraf struggled in vain, and the light eventually left his eyes, as his windpipe was crushed by Brian's iron clad grip.  
 
Justin had to pull Brian off the lifeless body.  Satisfied that their tormentor was dead, they both escaped into the marshland, as they heard soldiers coming to investigate.  They ran and ran, occasionally trudging through swamp water.  When they were relatively secure that they didn't have anyone in pursuit, they paused to rest.  Brian and Justin fell to the ground, hyperventilating.  
 
"We did it", Justin exclaimed between breaths.  
 
"We're not safe just yet", Brian reminded him still huffing.  "We have to make our way to friendly territory."
 
After a few minutes, Brian  cautioned, "Come on, we better keep going."  He began to get up, when he suddenly dropped to his knees, holding his side.
 
Justin went over to him, and knelt down.  "Brian what's wrong?"  It was then that Justin noticed the blood seeping through Brian's shirt.
 
"Oh my God, you've been shot."  "<i>Fuck</i>...why didn't you say something?"
 
Brian responded, "Maybe it was because we were too busy running for our lives."  He winced, no longer able to hide the extent of his injury from Justin's view.  
 
Justin gingerly examined the entry of the bullet.  "The bullet is still in you", he assessed, after not finding an exit wound.  "And you're losing a lot of blood."
 
Justin knew he had to act quickly.  He helped Brian remove his shirt, and ripped a clean stretch of material to use as a rag, to apply pressure.  Then he removed his own belt, and secured it around Brian's mid section to hold the cloth in place.
 
"Justin", Brian said, "I want you to go on without me.  I'll only slow you down."  
 
"Brian, I just found you.  There's no way I'm going to leave you behind.  Besides, we're both in this together, remember?"
 
Brian hated that the kid used his own words against him.  But he saw the determined look in Justin's face, and knew better than to argue with him.  
 
Justin picked Brian up, gripping him under his arms.  Brian leaned on Justin for support, as they continued on their  journey.  They finally came to the outskirts of a city that Brian recognized from the map they used for their mission.  If they could get there, they could find American soldiers, or at least American friendly Iraqi citizens.  
 
Justin staggered with Brian's weight on him.  He noticed that Brian was growing progressively weaker.  He collapsed to the ground, almost pulling the younger man with him.  Justin bent over to check Brian, and was relieved to find that he had just passed out, no doubt from the blood loss and exhaustion.  
 
Brian needed medical help right away.  If Justin had to carry him into the city, then that was what he was going to do.  Justin somehow found the strength to drag Brian the remaining 100 feet or so, before two men saw them, and ran to assist him.  They lifted Brian, and gently placed him into a nearby jeep.  Justin rode in the back by his side.  Brian looked so pale, and so young.  Justin brushed Brian's amber hair from his face.  He prayed, 'Please God, let him live.  Let him be alright.'
 
They were driven to a local hospital, where Brian was immediately seen by the doctor in charge.  After evaluating Brian's condition, he then walked over to talk with Justin.  "Your friend has lost a lot of blood.  We need to remove the bullet, but I don't know if he will be able to survive the surgery."  The gravity of the situation sinking in, Justin thought, 'we've been through too much for it to end this way'.
 
While preparations were being finalized, Justin went over to the gurney where Brian lay, quiet and unmoving.  He just <i>had</i> to be okay.  Taking Brian's limp hand in his, he threaded their fingers.  Whispering, Justin leaned their foreheads together and said, "Come back to me Brian.  I need you.  You've touched my heart in ways that no one else can."  He kissed Brian's hand before the orderlies came over, and wheeled him into the operating room.  
 
Justin sat by himself wracked with fear and anxiety, thinking of the past few days.  Brian had come to mean so much to him in such a short period of time.  In the dark, his arms had been a safe haven for Justin.   His voice was reassuring and gentle, and their passion equally matched.  Tears began to flow, as Justin looked up towards the ceiling, and begged God to spare the life of this man, who had the power to make him feel so incredibly happy and warm.